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❝ john gilbert is my father? ❞
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ENOLA IS DEEPER THAN MOST PEOPLE. And that is probably why no one gets her. She is a bit too much for anyone. That is perhaps the reason she is always alone. She is more mature than anyone else her age. Maybe that is why she understands what others cannot.
But Enola wants to feel understood. She does not want to be lonely anymore. She wants to be normal so that she can fit in with others. She wants to change herself because she just wants to be loved. And that is the saddest thing in the world. Because she is so extraordinary and there is no one in the goddamn universe that could be as much as her. But she doesn't realize that and she blames herself every night for not being ordinary. She hates herself for being this unique human being.
Enola wanted to feel things the way Elena felt things. But she knew that she would have to open herself up to that. And then all those feelings she had worked so hard to force down would come to the surface. She knew that she wasn't ready for that. To be seen. Not with her mother in town. She needed her walls high if she was going to get through this.
"You look beautiful," Elena beamed.
Enola wore this beautiful white and pink dress with a lot of lace and silk that accentuated her hips and waist. A gorgeous pearl necklace sat upon her collarbone as the matching earrings dangled with every turn of the head. And her beautiful bronze tresses were pulled into a graceful bun on top of her head with a few strands framing her delicate features. She had twisted her hair every which way in order to hide her pink highlights. And for the most part, it worked. Carol Lockwood had thrown a fit about the colorful hair and would not let her on the float if it was still visible.
"You look beautiful," Enola corrected, eyes flickering over to the Salvatore brothers who were currently staring at them in awe. "And I think they would agree."
"Stefan, maybe," Elena shrugged. "But Damon is staring at you."
"Do not start with me, Elena." Enola warned.
"Have you spoken to him about it?" Elena questioned worriedly.
"About what?" Enola played dumb.
"Isobel was right," Elena began slowly. "Damon is in love with you."
"He is in love with the idea of me." Enola corrected.
"That's not true," Elenas shook her head in protest.
