♤ ı [3] An Everlasting Love

ı 43 ı Say You Won't Let Go

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"I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old. Just say you won't let go."

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"Go to the place where we first met."

His voice rings around and around my head, too fast for my mind to grasp onto what it really means. I don't know what he's trying to say, and I'm in such a panic that I fear I will never know what he wants me to do. I begin to think of all the worse possible scenarios of how this can play out. What if something terrible has happened? What if these are his last moments? What if I don't get to him in time?

"Stop it. Stop it!" I chastise myself, quite literally smacking myself upside the head. "Focus Blair, come one. You're a freaking detective." 

I hop into Stefan's red Porsche, but don't start it up. Instead I sit in the car with my head on the steering wheel, trying desperately to think of the place where we first met. I dig deep into the memories within my mind, the memories Klaus robbed from me, hoping to find any form of recollection. I force my mind to go as far back as 1863, which is the year I know we first met. The pressure of it all starts to get to me again, as I fear James's life is on the line.

"AHA!" I shout to myself, lifting my head up from the steering wheel. I remember the first time we met, and frankly I'm embarrassed it took me so long. It was so long ago yet now as I'm picturing it, it felt like yesterday. My memories were stripped away from me so many times, I have difficulty putting them into place on a specific time frame. I can clearly picture James arriving in a carriage, walking up the steps of the original Salvatore house- the house that was burned to the ground years later.

We only exchanged glances then, as my father guided his newfound apprentice around the house. It was only a glance, but I knew at that moment it was something more.

I shove the keys into the ignition and start it up before speeding out of the Grill parking lot. I head into the direction of the old Gilbert mansion, the creepy one filled with the energy of dead witches and thick cobwebs. I know our old house, the house I grew up in, isn't far from there. In fact, if I recall properly, we were neighbours with the original John Gilbert.

By the time I get to the end of the road cut off by the thick forest, there is only half an hour left of sunlight left before I'm left in the dark. My heart beats a thousand miles a minute, pounding in my chest. I can hear it so strongly, like a million horses galloping through the streets. I feel a lump form in my throat out of fear, but I shove it back, determined to focus.

I hop out of the car and begin my trek through the forest, using the sunset light to guide me through. "James, are you okay?" I call out to him in my mind, wanting to make the time go by quicker.

"Yes,"  he says, not saying more.

"I'm heading through the forest now," I explain, using his voice to calm me.