theherosalvatore
There was a pause in his movements the moment he saw her. It seemed like a dream, really. Stefan stared at the woman before his mouth opened of its own accord.
"Evelyn?" Quiet surprise, like he was seeing a ghost. The last time he had seen her was a few hundred years ago. It made no sense to see a ghost nowadays.
"What...how...are you alive?"
BleedingCanvas-
≺【 @theherosalvatore 】≻ The touch nearly unraveled her. Evelyn stood perfectly still beneath his hands, blue eyes searching his face with the sort of aching disbelief that only came from loving someone across lifetimes. For a moment, she leaned into the warmth instinctively — into him — as though some part of her had spent the last century waiting to be held like this again. Her lashes fluttered once at his words, a quiet laugh escaping her despite the tears threatening behind her eyes “wisdom,” she repeated softly. “That’s a very generous way of saying I’ve made an impressive number of terrible decisions.” But her smile trembled around the edges. God, he still looked at her the same. Not with fear. Not with suspicion. With tenderness. That hurt far more than anger would have. Her hand lifted slowly, resting lightly over his wrist where it cradled her cheek, almost like she needed to reassure herself he was real too “you shouldn’t be this kind to me after all this time,” she murmured. “I disappeared, Stefan. I let you grieve me.” The confession sat heavy between them. Evelyn’s gaze flickered briefly over his face again, memorizing every changed detail: the sharper edges of him, the sadness settled deeper in his eyes, the weight immortality had pressed into his posture. And yet somehow… he still felt like home. “I thought about you constantly,” she admitted finally, voice quieter now. “Both of you. Every city I ran to, every year that passed…” A small breath escaped her. “There were moments I almost came back. But I didn’t know if the person you remembered still existed” her thumb brushed faintly against his hand before she added, softer still: “And seeing you now…” a pause “I think I was more afraid of you forgiving me than hating me.”
theherosalvatore
It was her. Not a hallucination or a mirage created by his mind scape but something physically here. She was real, and that nearly broke him on the inside
A vampire. Something old, quiet, mournful. There was no way that this wasn't here given there past. Stefan's feet carried him towards the woman, looking through her very soul with the kind of pain a man who has lost everything. In a way he did
He lost her after all.
"You were turned." He says, finality in his voice. There was plenty of mixed emotions, but relief was one of them. He shook his head at her next set of words. "Oh Eve...you have nothing to apologize for." He finds himself saying.
His hands shot up, cradling her face before she could protest. He ran his thumb along the cheek bone as though he was memorizing her very existence. "You look older as well. Like you gained more wisdom." He finds himself saying, warmth and kindness in his voice.
Like they hadn't spent centuries apart
BleedingCanvas-
≺【 @theherosalvatore 】≻ For a moment, Evelyn forgot how to breathe. Not because she needed to — she hadn’t in over a century — but because Stefan was looking at her exactly the same way he had the night she disappeared: like losing her had carved something permanent into him. Her expression softened almost painfully at the sound of her name in his voice. “Stefan…” The word left her quietly, uneven around the edges. She hadn’t prepared for this part. For him. A small, disbelieving laugh escaped her as she glanced down briefly, fingers tightening around the strap of her bag before her eyes found his again. “I suppose technically,” she said softly, “I’m not” there it was — the truth sitting carefully between them. Evelyn took a hesitant step forward, like she was afraid he might vanish if she moved too quickly. “I wanted to come back sooner.” Her voice lowered then, threaded with guilt she had carried for lifetimes. “I did. But after I turned… I couldn’t control it. And the thought of hurting you—” she stopped herself, swallowing hard “you were human, Stefan. You and Damon were everything good I had left, and I was terrified I’d destroy that just by staying.” Her gaze flickered across his face carefully, memorizing him all over again “you look older,” she murmured with the faintest trace of warmth. “Which is unfair, considering neither of us earned it naturally” then quieter: “I’m sorry I let you think I was dead.”
