THE MOMENT Harper opened the door, she was greeted by Elijah, who stood confidently on the doorstep, a bouquet of delicate flowers in hand. His signature smirk was firmly planted on his face, and he looked almost too pleased with himself. "Of course, you'd do that," he said, his voice dripping with playful amusement.

Harper couldn't help but scoff, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms in mock disapproval. "Already on the road to wooing my mother, huh?"

Elijah chuckled softly, a glint of humor in his eyes. "I try to make a good impression on the first official meeting," he replied with a wink.

Harper couldn't hold back a laugh at his smooth words. "Oh, what a fine young man!" she heard her mother exclaim from behind her. Harper jumped, startled by her mother's sudden appearance, and gave her a small glare.

"I—Mom! Couldn't you have waited in the living room?" she said, her voice a mix of exasperation and affection.

"Oh, hush, dear. You're both standing right here," her mother said, brushing past her with an enthusiastic motion, effectively shoving Harper aside. She could only facepalm in response as her mother beamed up at Elijah. "Why don't you come inside, Mr. Mikaelson? It's a pleasure to meet you," she added warmly.

Elijah, ever the gentleman, extended his hand with a charming smile. "It's a pleasure, Ms. Kingsley. My name is Elijah Mikaelson."

Harper groaned inwardly as her mother's eyes sparkled with joy, clearly enamored by Elijah's polished manners.

"Oh, he has an accent!" Joan exclaimed, her voice full of delight. "I can already tell, you're going to be a hit with me, Elijah. Just call me Joan"

Harper couldn't help herself as she raised both hands to her face in embarrassment. "Mom! Seriously?!" she muttered under her breath.

But her mother ignored her, clearly too pleased with her newfound connection to Elijah. "Come now, Elijah! You must meet my husband!" she said, practically dragging Elijah inside as Harper walked behind them, shaking her head in disbelief.

When they entered the living room, Harper's mother, still brimming with excitement, called out in a voice full of pride, "Darling! This is Elijah Mikaelson!" She pronounced his last name a little off, but neither Elijah nor Harper corrected her, knowing better than to spoil her enthusiasm when she was in such a good mood.

Harper's father, Wayne, stood up from his chair, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he sized up Elijah. The man was impeccably dressed, as always, in his usual suit and tie.

"You dress like this all the time?" he asked, a teasing note in his voice.

Harper let out an exaggerated groan, stepping forward as though to stop whatever awkwardness might arise from this question. "Don't answer it," she quickly cut in, giving her father a pointed look. "Dad's just trying to be funny."

Elijah let out a small, polite laugh at the banter. "Actually—" he began, but Harper swiftly interjected.

"Don't answer him, Elijah," she said, her voice exasperated yet fond.

She turned to her father. "Dad, this is Elijah Mikaelson. Elijah, this is my dad."

Both men shook hands firmly, a sense of mutual respect passing between them. "Wayne Kingsley," her father introduced himself, his tone measured as he scrutinized the young man before him.

Without missing a beat, Wayne clapped Elijah on the back and steered him toward the backyard, seemingly eager to discuss who this man was and what his intentions with his daughter were. Harper watched them walk off and turned to her mother, who was already heading toward the kitchen.

"Mom, I'm going to help with dinner," Harper said, following her mother into the warm kitchen. Joan had already started chopping vegetables for the evening meal.

As Harper began stirring the simmering broth on the stove, her mother watched her for a moment before speaking up. "So, Elijah knows about you?" she asked cautiously, her tone soft but filled with genuine concern.

Harper paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before responding. "Yes, he knows," she said, her voice steady but carrying the weight of the truth.

Her mother set down the knife she had been using and gave Harper a look of quiet understanding. "And he still stays?" Joan asked, her voice filled with a mixture of incredulity and worry. Harper could hear the unspoken question between the lines—did Elijah truly understand what it meant to be with her, to know that time was running out?

"Yes, Mom, he is," Harper answered, her voice unwavering despite the uncertainty she felt inside.

Joan's brow furrowed as she walked over to Harper, her expression softening with maternal concern. "Do you ever think it's unfair to him?" she asked gently, her eyes searching her daughter's face for answers.

Harper felt a pang of guilt. She paused, looking down at the wooden spoon in her hand as if it could offer her some sort of clarity. "I... yes, I think it is," she admitted quietly, the weight of her words settling heavily in her chest. "I think it's unfair to him, but Mom..." She looked up, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I care about him. I know it's selfish, but I can't help how I feel."

Joan's expression softened even further, and without another word, she walked over to Harper, pulling her into a tight embrace. Harper closed her eyes, her face pressed against her mother's shoulder as the tears she had been holding back finally spilled over.

"Oh, sweetheart," Joan whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Harper's chest tightened as she held her mother just as tightly, both of them crying in each other's arms. The love and concern that passed between them were tangible, and for a brief moment, Harper allowed herself to sink into the comfort of her mother's embrace. She had tried so hard to hold everything together, to shield her loved ones from the truth, but in this moment, the walls she had built around herself started to crumble.

"I love him, Mom," Harper whispered, her voice muffled by her tears. "I just love him."

Joan didn't say anything for a moment, but Harper could feel the quiet understanding that passed between them. She didn't need to explain further—her mother knew. She knew that Harper's feelings for Elijah were real, and that even in the face of everything, she couldn't just walk away from the one person who made her heart feel alive.

Joan gently pulled away, wiping the tears from Harper's cheeks with a tender touch. "I know you do, sweetheart. I know you do," she murmured softly.

Harper took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside her. As her mother returned to preparing dinner, Harper remained in the kitchen, her heart heavy with the weight of her choices. She didn't know what the future held, but she knew one thing for sure—her love for Elijah was undeniable, and she would fight to hold onto it, no matter how unfair it might seem to everyone around her.

As Harper stood there in the kitchen, the quiet hum of her mother chopping vegetables filled the air, but it felt distant. Her mind raced with thoughts of Elijah, of the love she had for him and the inevitable heartbreak that loomed on the horizon. She could feel the weight of every decision she had made and the ones she was about to make. Time was running out, and though she tried to focus on the present, it felt impossible to ignore the shadow that hung over her.

She didn't want to think about leaving Elijah, leaving her parents, or leaving everything she knew. But every moment she spent with them, every laugh, every touch, only deepened the ache in her chest. How could she let go of all the love they had given her? How could she keep Elijah close without eventually tearing him apart with the knowledge that her time was slipping away? The thought of him suffering because of her, the thought of him being left behind in a world without her, broke her heart more than she was willing to admit.

Her mother, as though sensing the storm brewing inside her, turned and gave her a soft smile. "Do you want to set the table, sweetheart?" Joan asked gently, her voice kind, but with a touch of worry still lingering in her eyes.

Harper nodded, pushing the swirling thoughts aside, at least for a moment. "Yeah, sure. I'll grab the plates." She walked over to the cupboard, but her mind was still racing, still tangled with the future she couldn't escape. As she pulled out the plates, she thought about what Elijah had said to her earlier, how he had encouraged her not to erase the memories she had with her parents. He was right. Those moments were precious, even if they hurt to hold onto. She couldn't just take them away, not from them, not from herself.

But could she truly be fair to him? To Elijah?

Harper shook her head, trying to clear away the cloud of doubt that had settled over her. She couldn't keep living in fear of what was coming. She had to make the most of the time she had left, and that meant facing the truth. Elijah wasn't going anywhere, and neither was her love for him. But she needed to make her peace with the fact that it would all come to an end. She only hoped she could leave behind a legacy of love, of moments that would live on in the hearts of her parents, and maybe even in Elijah's.

Just then, she heard the soft sound of footsteps behind her. It was Elijah, his presence as comforting as it always was, though now, it felt more like a balm to her fragile heart. She didn't turn around immediately, unsure of how to face him with all the emotions swirling inside her. But when she felt his hands gently rest on her shoulders, she finally allowed herself to lean into his touch.

"You're thinking too much again," he murmured, his voice low and steady. "You always do this, love. You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Harper sighed, resting her head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "I don't know what to do anymore, Elijah," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I feel like I'm stuck between two worlds. I don't want to hurt you, but I can't keep pretending like everything's fine when it's not."

Elijah's hand stroked her hair gently, his fingers soothing her as if trying to erase the pain in her heart with his touch. "Harper," he said softly, "You're not pretending. You're living. And that's all I can ask of you. I'm not going anywhere. And I'll love you, no matter what."

Harper closed her eyes, feeling a tear slip down her cheek, even though she had tried so hard to hold it back. "I don't want to leave you," she admitted quietly. "But I don't want you to suffer because of me, either."

Elijah pulled back slightly so he could look into her eyes, his gaze intense but filled with warmth and understanding. "You don't have to leave me, Harper," he said, his voice firm with conviction. "We'll face whatever comes together. But don't carry this burden alone. Let me help you. Let me be there for you, as you've been there for me."

Her heart clenched in her chest as his words resonated deep within her. He was right. She didn't have to carry the weight of everything on her own. But the fear, the uncertainty, still gnawed at her. Could she truly allow herself to be vulnerable with him, to trust that he would be able to handle the pain that was coming?

"I don't want you to regret this," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don't want you to regret loving me."

Elijah's hands cupped her face gently, his thumbs wiping away the tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes. "Regret?" he asked softly, his voice full of disbelief. "I will never regret loving you, Harper. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I wouldn't change a single moment of it."

Harper felt a sob rise in her chest, but she held it back, trying to steady herself. She had always feared that her love for Elijah would hurt him in the end, but hearing him say that, hearing him speak from his heart, made her realize that perhaps love wasn't something to fear. It was something to cherish, even in its fleeting nature.

She took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over her for the first time in days. "I love you," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "And I don't want to say goodbye. Not yet."

Elijah's eyes softened, his expression full of tenderness and affection. "And you won't have to, love," he promised, his voice steady and unwavering. "We'll make every moment count. Together."

As they stood there in the quiet kitchen, the weight of their shared emotions hanging in the air, Harper knew that they didn't have all the time in the world. But for now, that was enough. They had each other, and that was more than she could ever ask for. And for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to believe that, maybe, just maybe, love could be enough to carry them through whatever came next.