15 | ๐’•๐’‰๐’† ๐’‘๐’‚๐’”๐’•


๐’๐Ž๐๐†: ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐Œ๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ ๐ˆ ๐Œ๐š๐๐ž ๐›๐ฒ ๐๐š๐ซ๐š๐œ๐ก๐ฎ๐ญ๐ž

...๐ŸŒ‘...

๐๐‘๐„๐’๐„๐๐“, ๐‘€๐‘Œ๐‘†๐‘‡๐ผ๐ถ ๐น๐ด๐ฟ๐ฟ๐‘†

๐ƒ๐ž๐œ๐ž๐ฆ๐›๐ž๐ซ ๐Ÿ๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ—

๐’๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐จ๐ง ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฉ๐จ๐ซ๐œ๐ก ๐ฌ๐ฐ๐ข๐ง๐ , ๐ˆ ๐ฐ๐š๐ญ๐œ๐ก๐ž๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฆ๐จ๐ซ๐ง๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ฅ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ฌ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐›๐š๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฒ๐š๐ซ๐ ๐ข๐ง ๐š ๐ฌ๐จ๐Ÿ๐ญ ๐ ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฐ.

The chill in the air seeped through my sweater, and I pulled it tighter around me, curling up as I held my phone to my ear.

"How's your aunt?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Hovering," Bonnie replied, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

A sad smile tugged at my lips. "Are you still not talking to Elena?"

"I just can't right now. You almost died. Grams died. We saved Damon and Stefan, but at what cost?" Bonnie's voice cracked, each word laced with pain and frustration.

"I just...I just wish she was here," I murmured, feeling the weight of Grams' absence like a leaden blanket.

"Me too." Bonnie took a shaky breath. "I don't blame you, Selene. So don't blame yourself because Grams wouldn't want you to."

"Okay."ย 

I hung up, the hollow feeling inside me growing.

Elena came out onto the porch, her steps tentative, and Jenna followed with a coffee cup. Elena sat beside me, her presence comforting yet heavy with unspoken words. Jenna sipped her coffee, her eyes flickering between us.

"What are you doing out here? It's cold," Jenna said, her tone a mix of concern and mild reprimand.

"Thinking," I replied, staring out at the yard.

Elena cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "The, uh, funeral for Bonnie's grandma, it brought back a lot about mom and dad. I was wondering...you said that you would do some digging about them, our adoption."

"Right," Jenna nodded.

Elena hesitated, then asked, "So did you? Dig?"

"Come on inside." Jenna led us into the house.ย 

We moved to the dining room, where she pulled out her laptop and sat at the table. Elena stood beside her, and I took the other side, watching as she opened a journal and flipped to a marked page.

"Your dad kept everything from his medical practiceโ€”records, logs, old appointment books." Jenna pointed to an entry. "I found an entry from the night you were born. Patient and a birth date. Isobel Peterson."

I leaned over Jenna's shoulder, peering at the screen.

"Do you think that's her real name?" Elena asked, her voice tinged with hope.

"Pregnant teenage runaway? Probably not. First name, maybe. But where'd she get Peterson? Classmate? Best friend? So I binged it." Jenna typed into the search engine, pulling up a list. "I searched for all the Petersons in this area born the same year as Isobel, found threeโ€”two men and a woman, Trudie, who lived in Grove Hill, Virginia."

"It's not far from here," I added, glancing at Elena.

"Watch this." Jenna clicked through a few more links and pulled up an image from a high school yearbook.ย 

"Isobel." I breathed.ย 

Elena leaned closer, a small smile forming. "She was a cheerleader."

"Trudie still lives there." Jenna handed Elena a post-it note with an address. "This is her address."

"What about Isobel?" Elena's smile faded, replaced by a look of apprehension.

"I couldn't find anything about her." Jenna's voice softened as she saw Elena's disheartened expression. "Listen. There's something else. Mr. Saltzman, Ric, his wife was from around here, and her name was also Isobel."

I blinked, trying to process the connection. "Was?"

Jenna's expression grew somber. "She died."

...๐ŸŒ‘...

I stood with Elena outside a quaint house, double-checking the address on the Post-it note. It matched perfectly. "Ready?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Not really," Elena admitted, squaring her shoulders and approaching the front door. She hesitated for a moment before finally knocking.

No one answered.ย 

We turned to leave when the door clicked open, and we turned to find a blonde woman opening the door.

"Trudie? Trudie Peterson?"

"Yes?" The woman's eyes were wary but curious.

"My name is Elena Gilbert. This is Selene Hastings. We wanted to talk to you about Isobel Flemming."

Trudie's eyes widened. "Well, I haven't heard that name in years. How do you know her?"

Elena glanced at me, then back at Trudie. "We think that, um, well..."

"Do you know the babies that she gave up for adoption?" I interjected, feeling the need to cut to the chase.

Trudie's jaw dropped. "My god. You're her daughters." She laughed softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "I was just gonna make some tea. Would you like some?"

"Sure," Elena said, her voice trembling slightly.

I nodded, following Elena and Trudie into the house. Elena removed her jacket as Trudie led us into the kitchen. The house was cozy, filled with old photographs and the scent of fresh herbs.

"We weren't gonna come," Elena began, settling into a chair.ย 

"She was driving and hit a stoplight." I finished for her.ย 

"It made me think about when I was learning how to drive, and then my mom would always warn me about this blind turn on the left-hand side. I was thinking about my mom, andโ€”I had your address."

"We're sorry for barging in," I added quickly.

Trudie waved it off. "It's no problem. Just a surprise, though."

We sat down at the table, the atmosphere tense yet hopeful. Trudie seemed to be processing the information as she made tea.

"I haven't thought about Isobel in years," Trudie said, handing us each a cup.

"When was the last time you saw her?" Elena asked, her curiosity palpable.

"About seventeen years ago, when she left to go have you two. We kept in touch for a while, but, well, you know, people drift apart."

"You don't know where she might be?" I pressed, desperate for any clue.

"She was in Florida for a while. She was on her own. I know it wasn't easy," Trudie explained.

"Do you have any idea who our father is?" Elena asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I could never get her to fess up. Anyway, she finally pulled it together, got into college on a scholarship."

"Do you know where?" I asked.

"Somewhere in North Carolina. Duke, I think. Smart girl, smart school."

The kettle whistled, and Trudie got up to fetch it. I glanced at Elena, who looked both hopeful and overwhelmed.

"This is crazy," Elena muttered.

"You think?" I replied, a weak smile tugging at my lips.

"I just..."

"You just want to know about our mom," I finished for her.

Elena nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Yeah."

I glanced around the house, a bad feeling gnawing at the pit of my stomach.ย 

"What is it?" she asked.ย 

"I have a bad feeling," I whispered, leaning closer to Elena.

Trudie returned with the tea and an old yearbook in hand. She placed the steaming cups on the table, their herbal scent filling the room. With a nostalgic smile, she handed the yearbook to Elena, who eagerly began flipping through its worn pages.

"They came to the games for us. The football team hadn't won in years. We were the stars. Well, Izzie was. But I was a damn good backup," Trudie reminisced.

Elena smiled. "This is great. Thank you."

Trudie looked at our untouched teacups. "You haven't touched your tea."

"Oh. Yeah," Elena said, picking up her cup and taking a cautious sip. I followed suit, but the taste made me furrow my brow.

"What is this?" Elena asked, sniffing her tea.

"Just some herbal mixture," Trudie replied nonchalantly.

"Vervain," I stated, my voice tense.

Trudie didn't respond.

"You know," Elena said, her voice hardening.

Trudie stood up, her demeanor changing. "I think that you both should probably leave."

"Wait," Elena pleaded, but Trudie was adamant.

"Please leave. Now!" she demanded.

Elena grabbed her jacket, pulling me toward the door. We headed for Elena's car, but I froze as I spotted a man standing in the middle of the road.

"Elena?" I whispered, my heart pounding.

Elena followed my gaze, her eyes widening. She quickly unlocked the car, and we slipped inside. The engine roared to life, and Elena sped away, the man's figure growing smaller in the rearview mirror.

...๐ŸŒ‘...

As I entered Mystic Grill, the buzz of chatter and clinking glasses filled the atmosphere, which was lively, with the Founder's fundraiser in full swing. I navigated through the crowd, searching for familiar faces. The room smelled of grilled food and perfume, a blend that somehow grounded me.

I spotted Alaric standing near the stage, preparing to go up.ย 

"Isobel was my wife," he said quietly, his voice laden with unspoken pain.

"I know," I replied softly. "Jenna told me."

Before he could say more, Mrs. Lockwood pulled him and Damon onto the stage. Damon's eyes met mine, dark and guarded, before he was dragged into the spotlight.

I moved through the Grill, finding Elena snuggled close to Stefan. She smiled at me, but I could see the tension in her eyes.

Damon's voice broke through the crowd's murmur. "Well, I'm tough to fit on a card," he joked into the microphone, his smirk barely hiding the malice beneath.

Mrs. Lockwood asked, "Do you have any hobbies? Like to travel?"

Damon's gaze briefly flicked towards me before answering, "Oh, yeah. L.A., New York. Couple of years ago, I was in North Carolina. Near the Duke campus, actually. I thinkโ€”Alaric went to school there. Didn't you, Ric?"

I saw Stefan stiffen beside me.ย 

I whispered, "Stefan, what's going on?"

Damon continued, "Yeah, 'cause Iโ€”I know your wife did." His eyes gleamed with something dark. "I had a drink with her once. She wasโ€”she was a great girl. I ever tell you that? Cause she wasโ€”Delicious. Mmm! Mmm mmm mmm."

Tears filled my eyes as I stared at Damon, my mind reeling. I glanced at Elena, who looked equally horrified, tears brimming in her eyes.

Jenna's voice broke through my daze. "Are you two okay?"

Elena stood abruptly. "I just need some air," she said, pushing past Stefan and out of the Grill. Stefan followed quickly, leaving me standing there, my gaze locked on Damon's smug expression.

As the fundraiser ended and the crowd dispersed, I approached Damon. He was still smirking, the satisfaction in his eyes evident.

"Sunshineโ€”" he started.

"Did you do it?" I cut him off, my voice trembling with barely restrained anger.

"Do what?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"Did you kill Isobel?" I demanded.

He blinked. "Am I missing something here?"

"You killed my mother," I whispered, tears streaming down my face.

Damon went still, his smirk fading. "When I found out I was adopted and that Elena was my sister, we discovered who our birth mother was. Aren't you going to reminisce about how you killed her? How delicious she was?"

"Sunshine, I didn'tโ€”" he began, but I interrupted him.

"โ€”know. That's just perfect, Damon." I turned and walked out of the Grill, the cold air hitting my tear-streaked face. The wind whipped my hair as Damon appeared before me, his expression pained.

"I'm sorry, Sunshine," he said, his voice softer, almost pleading.

"I thought you were different, Damon. Not like the other vampires who only cared about drinking blood and killing those who got in their way. I thought you were trying to protect me, so there was good in you."ย 

I saw the hurt in his eyes deepen.

"But I guess I was wrong," I finished, moving around him only to stop abruptly when I saw a man standing in the middle of the road.

"Selene?" The man asked.

Damon grabbed my arm, pulling me behind him protectively. "Do you know him?"

I shook my head, my eyes locked on the stranger. "No."

The man spoke, his voice monotone. "I have a message for you."

"What message?" I asked, my voice steady despite my racing heart.

"Stop looking," he said simply.

"Looking for what?" I pressed, confused.

"She doesn't want to know either of you. She doesn't want to talk."

Realization hit me like a truck. "Isobel?"

Damon stiffened beside me. "You both need to stop looking. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I nodded, my voice barely audible.

"Good," the man said, stepping backward into the road.ย 

A truck horn blared, a deafening sound that shattered the night. I barely had time to register the man stepping into the street before the truck slammed into him. The impact was brutal, sudden, and final. I gasped, covering my mouth in shock. Damon grabbed me, pulling me into his arms as if to shield me from the horror unfolding before us.

Cries echoed around us, a chorus of panic and disbelief. People rushed towards the scene, their faces masks of shock. Damon and I moved through the chaos. Damon crouched beside the lifeless body, his expression hardening.

"He's gone," Damon muttered, his voice a grim verdict. His eyes scanned the scene, calculating our next move.

My gaze landed on a phone lying a few feet away, likely dropped during the accident. Without thinking, I scooped it up and slipped it into my pocket. Damon's grip tightened around my arm, and he pulled me to my feet, his movements decisive and protective.

"We need to go. Now," he urged.

Numbly, I let him lead me to my car, my mind spinning with everything that had just happened.

Is she alive?

...๐ŸŒ‘...

Sitting on my bed, I stared at the dead man's phone, my fingers trembling as I clutched it.ย 

The night's events replayed in my mind like a haunting melody, each note bringing back a wave of pain and confusion. I took a deep breath, opened the phone, and found the last number dialed. Without a chance to reconsider, I pressed the call button and held the phone to my ear.

After a few rings, a woman's voice answered, sharp and expectant. "Was there a problem? Did you find them? What's going on?"

I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper. "Isobel?"

There was a moment of silence, and then the line went dead. She hung up. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I shut the phone, feeling a deep sense of loss and frustration. I slipped the phone into my dresser drawer to steady my breath.

"Sunshine?" Damon's voice broke the silence, and I turned to see him standing in my room, his expression unreadable.

"Get out, Damon," I said, my voice wavering.

"No," he replied firmly, stepping closer.

I stood up, crossing my arms over my chest. "Please, I'm not in the mood to fight. Not tonight."

Damon closed the space between us in a few strides. "Then listen."

I nodded, signaling for him to continue.

"I turned her," he confessed, his voice low and filled with regret and defiance.

I blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"She came to me, looking for vampires. She begged me to turn her, so I did."

"So she's alive," I said, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"Yes, Sunshine. I don't know where, but she's alive. Well, as alive as a vampire can be."

He moved closer until only a sliver of space separated us. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me against him.ย 

"You hurt me," I whispered, my voice cracking.

Damon's eyes darkened, filled with an intensity that made my heart race. "I know."

His touch sent shivers down my spine as he held me tighter. "You should go," I said, my resolve weakening every second.

"You remember when you told me we wouldn't work," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear.

I could only nod, lost in the storm of emotions swirling inside me. His touch, his presence, made everything else fade away.

"I'm willing to test that theory," he murmured.

I furrowed my brows. "Howโ€”"

Before I could finish, Damon slammed his lips onto mine. The kiss was bruising and desperate, and I found myself kissing him back with the same fervor. His intensity matched mine, a raw hunger that pulled us both under. When we finally pulled back, gasping for air, I looked into his darkened eyes, feeling his fingers dig into my hips.

"This is a bad idea, Damon," I said, trying to catch my breath.

"I don't care," he replied, his voice raw with need.

I turned away, biting my lip, trying to ignore how I felt about him. But the truth was undeniableโ€”Damon meant something to me, something deep and unexplainable.

"Sunshine?" he called softly.

I turned back to him, and at that moment, I decided. "Fuck it," I muttered.

I stormed towards him, grabbed the collar of his leather jacket, and pulled him down for another kiss. Damon groaned, gripping the back of my head and deepening the kiss. His hands moved under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. I gasped, wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling the world blur around us.

He had me sitting on top of my dresser in a heartbeat, his kisses feverish and consuming. I pulled him closer, needing him like I needed air. Everything else faded away until it was just us.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against mine. "Sunshine?" he whispered.

"Hmm?" I responded, looking into his eyes, which were filled with vulnerability and determination.

"I think we work," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. Damon leaned in and kissed me again, slower this time. His lips moved gently against mine, the intensity from earlier replaced by a tenderness that made my heart ache. I felt myself melt into him, every fiber of my being responding to his touch.ย 

For the first time in a long while, I didn't think about the consequences or complications between me and Damon.ย 

For tonight, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, a relationship between a witch and a vampire could work.

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