"We mourned you! We were heartbroken when father told us you'd died! When all this time you've been alive, how selfish are you?" Damon seethed, his teeth clenched and hand pointing accusingly at Val.
"You have no idea what I have been through, what...
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♥︎°~°♥︎
Valerie had long gone up stairs. Stefan briefly heard her say something about a shower and having to scrub the doppelganger germs off her. He lay on the couch holding one of his journals in his hand. It had been a long day and he didn't really know what to think all the Katherine stuff. A part of him wanted to believe that she was being genuine and that she truly did come back for him, because as much as he didn't want to admit it, his love for her in 1864 was true and a part of it was still there, just covered by 145 years of resentment.
Then there was the fake break up with his girlfriend. Elena was another story, since he'd met her, his life had felt better, like he had a purpose he didn't have before. Before he was just drifting, living through the displeasures of immortality with no reason. And then she came into his life and suddenly he had something to live for, he and Damon were now on speaking terms which was definitely an improvement and Valerie was back. But although Elena says she's always there for him and would never judge him. He still fells kind of stuck, I suppose he'd always felt that way, well since that day.
Since that dreadful day, his life had never been the same, and when you're immortal, it tends to way down on you forever. He supposes that was the reason he was never close the Valerie, she came at a time in his life where he was not himself, he hadn't been himself since she died and in 1863 when Valerie showed up and connected with his brother, in a way he hadn't seen Damon connect with anyone since her.
And now that Valerie was back, and alive somehow. And she saved his girlfriend, he doesn't want to think what would have happened if Valerie hadn't been running in the forest that night, because he was too late. So, he owed her for that.
"Stefan!" The sandy haired boy almost fell of the couch in shock. The Journal fumbled from his hands as the front door slammed shut. Oh shit, Damon's home, and he hasn't told him. Stefan internally cursed himself, that should have been the first thing he had done.
The younger Salvatore turned around on the couch with a sheepish look on his face to see his fuming older brother.
"Where is she?" The raven-haired man demanded.
"Hi Damon," Stefan waved sheepishly.
At that moment, the brunette girl skipped down the stairs, her hair wrapped in a towel. Looking up, she came face to face with an awestruck Damon. She awkwardly scratched and gave him a wave.
" Hi Damon."
"HI? A hundred and forty-five years and all you have for me is hi?" Damon yelled; his eyes were glossed when he took in the 5-foot 7 girl in front of him. She was just like he remembered, her hair was shorter, cut just below her ribs instead of down to her hips like it used to be, but her features were the same. She still had her green that reminded him of their mothers' eyes, why? He had no idea, it might have been his brain trying to connect her to him as family, he didn't know. What he did know was that he missed her like crazy. And he was pissed.
