~Chapter Thirty Three~

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Doing it with Stefan was the most riveting and exciting thing I had ever done in my entire life. He told me afterwards that it didn't get any better than this because doing it with a vampire was more intense and far more thrilling than doing it with a human. I believed him. It was hard to imagine anything better. There was, however, one minor downside. I was completely and utterly shattered. Who knew dancing under the sheets was so exhausting? Unfortunately for the rest of me, my brain was still wide awake making sleep impossible. Instead of lying beside Stefan and staring aimlessly at the ceiling, I leaned on my elbow and watched him sleep.
   I thought I'd be used to it now, but every time I saw him lying as still as a statue, his chest rebelling against normal bodily functions, I couldn't help but want to wake him, just to make sure he was still alive. He looked like a smooth, gorgeous, life like statue covered in plain beige sheets. I'd never understood why some people decorated their houses with statues, but I guessed if any statue looked this desirable I might purchase one too. 
   Wearing nothing besides my underwear, I tip toed to the window and pulled back the crimson drape, tying it to the side with the creamy, golden rope tassels. Sneaking into his closet, I pulled his favourite black and grey checkered shirt from the hanger and buttoned it halfway, snuggling into the collar which carried his alluring scent. Rolling the baggy sleeves up to my elbows, I perched myself on the windowsill, gazing out at the moonlit forest. The tips of the numerous pine trees made the sky look as though there were black spiky balls scattered across the navy void of twinkling stars.
   Shuffling across the wooden floorboards, I did my best to relax into Stefan's wooden upright desk chair. His worn, leather bound journal was so tempting but I knew reading it was definitely an invasion of privacy. Pressing the fleshy tip of my nose against the cover, I relished in the beautiful, old leather smell. Without reading the stunningly perfect cursive, I flicked through the pages, my nostrils welcoming the musty scent when a small, cream hued card fell out of the book, landing face down on the floor. 
   Checking to see if Stefan was still asleep, I placed his journal back in it's place and picked the card up off the floor, turning it over to see a picture perfect sketch of me. Biting my lip, I smiled. Stefan hadn't told me if his artistry skills (probably because he was too modest), every pencil stroke was perfect. Despite his perfection, something about the picture did strike me as a little odd. For one, my hair was naturally straight, not curled as Stefan had made it out to be, and sitting on top of my head was a funny looking hat, very old fashioned I thought. Not only that, but I want smiling in this picture, I was scowling and the bodice of the dress I was wearing was very... Different, to say the least.
   Curious as to the inscription on the bottom of the card, I held it up in the moonlight and Stefan's beautiful, distinctive handwriting came into view: Katherine Pierce, 1864.
   My hands began to shake while my bottom lip trembled as I stated into the cold, emotionless eyes of Stefan's deceased vampire girlfriend. The famous Katherine Stefan and Damon continued to talk about looked exactly like me it was a though I was staring into a mirror, or at least looking at my identical twin sister. This didn't make any sense, it was impossible. How could someone from over a century ago have the same face as me? Shock, horror and a feeling of hopelessness filled my sinking heart as I realised what this meant. Stefan didn't love me for me. He loved because I reminded him of Katherine, because I looked like the real love of his life.
   Tears threatened spill as the card slipped between my fingers and fell face up on the desk. Throwing his shirt to the ground, I yanked my jeans up my legs and pulled my top over my messy head of hair. Rolling my shoes, jacket and bag into a bundle, I tore the necklace Stefan had given me from around my neck and slammed it on top of Katherine's picture. Moisture built in my eyes as I ran down the winding wooden staircase, hoping it wouldn't creak and wanted Stefan. The last thing I needed was him coming after me, trying desperately to explain. I burst through the front door, skidding across the gravel in an attempt to put as much distance between me and the house before Stefan awoke.

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