[ he is the biggest idiot, but katherine doesn't think to remind him of it. sitting out here with her, being kind to her — the stefan she knows would think himself to be an idiot if he so much as entertained the idea of being around her of his own accord. he'd perhaps even laugh if it was brought up to him, and say something cruel in return. but katherine knows she's also an idiot for enjoying this — and not in the way many think katherine enjoys much in life. she's truly enjoying herself, as she once had in his company in 1864, as she had with pearl. ]
[ she looks up at him, lips curved up in amusement. playfully, she chides, ] Watch yourself, Stefan. You wouldn't want to be too selfish. Some would say I've become a bad influence on you if you do.
[In return, he sets down his food and holds a single finger to his lips, in that universal shushing motion. Stefan's shoulders are shaking too much, though, for him to ever pull off that stern librarian look.]
What they don't know won't hurt them.
[He means it, too. Stefan would rather hold this close to his chest than broadcast it to the whole world, because if he doesn't? It could be ripped from his hands too.
(Like everything else he had once had.)
A good Stefan might've decided not to play with fire, but that Stefan isn't here, and he's enjoying himself too much to care.] As long as I'm still me, that's ultimately all that matters.
[ god, he reminds her so much of that boy from 1864. she finds herself completely charmed. it's easy to slip into that skin she'd shed over a hundred years ago, and it's all because he doesn't remember. a part of it doesn't feel right, but then again, stefan salvatore's never let himself be free with her ever since. if this is what it's like, she can't say she doesn't hate it. ]
And how will you know? [ katherine smiles, it sitting naturally on her mouth. she knows she's playing with fire right now, but katherine pierce has never burned. she hasn't in a very long time. stefan's flame has always been lukewarm in comparison to the inferno she once found herself burning within. ] Do you feel comfortable?
[She raises another good question. Certainly, Stefan feels more comfortable with her than he would've ever felt at his upcoming Friendsgiving. With Katherine, there's no acting, there's no self-censoring, and there's no holding back on his thoughts.
(All things he'll later come to regret, but right now, he needs someone who likes him for him.)
His smile turns shy, as if he's seventeen all over again.]
Maybe a little. ["Maybe a lot."] When I do [know when he's still Stefan], I promise - you'll be one of the first to know too.
[ if katherine knows anything, it's that she'll know when stefan's back to himself. but what he doesn't know is that this is the most comfortable he'll ever be. it's never rested easily with him that he had ever been close to her. it's never sat well with him to know that she'll always be in his life, an itch he'll never be able to scratch. a stefan salvatore who's comfortable around a katherine pierce is a stefan salvatore she knows is long gone, but it doesn't mean she can't enjoy it. ]
[ sometimes she's stupid enough to let her humanity seep in, and hope that he'll wake up one day and feel comfortable around her without a memory wipe. to no longer be the villain in his story would be a gift in itself, but one she knows is as far-fetched as her being given back everything she's ever lost. ]
[ she sits back, hand resting against the blanket. all she does is smile. ] Eat your food, Stefan. Then maybe I'll have something to be thankful for.
[ like his company on a day she otherwise would feel very much alone. ]
[His expression is an half-amused, half-exasperated one as he finally digs into his meal. It's a little cold, but it's still as delicious as he remembered from his earlier samplings. Any other day, his attention would've been solely on the meal he prepared, but he can't quite help looking over at Katherine and noting how pretty she looks when she smiles. Then and there, he makes a mental note to learn how he can see it again.
Like the people who bend over backwards for their fellow captives, Katherine is far, far kinder than she seems. She has zero reason. She also has zero incentive, despite his kindness, and yet she indulges his every whim.
That, he's coming to realize, is what he's truly grateful for.]
[ katherine likes to consider herself to have a very particular appetite. she likes to drink from the vein and occasionally dine out on the good foods she once enjoyed. she stays far away from home-cooked meals and big buffets as they remind her of her mother, but she otherwise gravitates toward finger food. what stefan's brought her sits somewhere in the middle, and though katherine's obviously eaten during her long, long lifetime, she hasn't exactly done so to enjoy herself. it's always been to look the part of the dainty, human girl. ]
[ besides, she tried junk food once. it didn't survive the night. ]
[ picking up her glass, she drains it. she thinks to tell him he should be worried she will bite, but forgoes it. for once, the reminder of her sharpness doesn't fit. instead, she wishes to be soft, much like that girl from 1864. so she decides to go for an exchange, placing her glass on the blanket to free up her hand. she picks something out of the basket, making a show of it, and finds herself holding between her fingers a delicate baked good. ] I promise. [ and she does as she has promised, taking a bite out of it. now there's no excuse for him not to enjoy his food. ]
action;
[ she looks up at him, lips curved up in amusement. playfully, she chides, ] Watch yourself, Stefan. You wouldn't want to be too selfish. Some would say I've become a bad influence on you if you do.
action;
What they don't know won't hurt them.
[He means it, too. Stefan would rather hold this close to his chest than broadcast it to the whole world, because if he doesn't? It could be ripped from his hands too.
(Like everything else he had once had.)
A good Stefan might've decided not to play with fire, but that Stefan isn't here, and he's enjoying himself too much to care.] As long as I'm still me, that's ultimately all that matters.
action;
And how will you know? [ katherine smiles, it sitting naturally on her mouth. she knows she's playing with fire right now, but katherine pierce has never burned. she hasn't in a very long time. stefan's flame has always been lukewarm in comparison to the inferno she once found herself burning within. ] Do you feel comfortable?
action;
(All things he'll later come to regret, but right now, he needs someone who likes him for him.)
His smile turns shy, as if he's seventeen all over again.]
Maybe a little. ["Maybe a lot."] When I do [know when he's still Stefan], I promise - you'll be one of the first to know too.
action;
[ sometimes she's stupid enough to let her humanity seep in, and hope that he'll wake up one day and feel comfortable around her without a memory wipe. to no longer be the villain in his story would be a gift in itself, but one she knows is as far-fetched as her being given back everything she's ever lost. ]
[ she sits back, hand resting against the blanket. all she does is smile. ] Eat your food, Stefan. Then maybe I'll have something to be thankful for.
[ like his company on a day she otherwise would feel very much alone. ]
action;
[His expression is an half-amused, half-exasperated one as he finally digs into his meal. It's a little cold, but it's still as delicious as he remembered from his earlier samplings. Any other day, his attention would've been solely on the meal he prepared, but he can't quite help looking over at Katherine and noting how pretty she looks when she smiles. Then and there, he makes a mental note to learn how he can see it again.
Like the people who bend over backwards for their fellow captives, Katherine is far, far kinder than she seems. She has zero reason. She also has zero incentive, despite his kindness, and yet she indulges his every whim.
That, he's coming to realize, is what he's truly grateful for.]
action;
[ besides, she tried junk food once. it didn't survive the night. ]
[ picking up her glass, she drains it. she thinks to tell him he should be worried she will bite, but forgoes it. for once, the reminder of her sharpness doesn't fit. instead, she wishes to be soft, much like that girl from 1864. so she decides to go for an exchange, placing her glass on the blanket to free up her hand. she picks something out of the basket, making a show of it, and finds herself holding between her fingers a delicate baked good. ] I promise. [ and she does as she has promised, taking a bite out of it. now there's no excuse for him not to enjoy his food. ]