Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
☆═━ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗 ━═☆
Isn't it funny how the memories you cherish before a breakup can become your worst enemies afterwards? The thoughts you loved to think about, the memories you wanted to hold up to the light and view from every angle--it suddenly seems a lot safer to lock them in a box, far from the light of day and throw away the key. It's not an act of bitterness. It's an act of self-preservation. It's not always a bad idea to stay behind the window and look out at life instead, is it?
Charlotte never thought the day would come where she had to hate everything that reminded her of the Salvatore boy with hero hair and a sharp jaw, but nothing is ever impossible.
The brunette decided to try one last time to talk to him before she would completely give up on their relationship. She went into her carriage, and the Bernard's loyal cab drove her to the Salvatore mansion.
On their way to the Salvatores, they had to pass by Charlotte and Stefan's little place or what they used to call such. The place where he had first kissed her, the place where they first admitted their love for one another, the place where he had given her an empty diary to write, and lastly, the place where he had broken heart.
"Stop here, Mr. Lance," Charlotte asked him, and he stopped in front of the small garden, "Thank you, it won't be for long."
To boost some of her confidence, Charlotte decided to take a small walk in the place. To intentionally remember all of her memories with Stefan and convince him that whatever thing he feels for Katherine was temporarily.
However, she stopped in her tracks and her thoughts faded as she heard the high pitched laugh of a girl, followed by the voice of the man she would never forget, "Katherine, wait! It was my turn."
"But darling, you lost," The brunette Pierce chuckled, turning to face Stefan Salvatore as he caught up to her, his hand grabbed her waist, ushering her closer to him before his lips brushed against hers.
So that was that. They were finally, finally over.
Charlotte looked at him, and she felt so sad, this was their place, their hearts and names were marked on almost every tree in that garden. If the trees could talk, they would have told the tale of the epic soulmates that carved their names on every branch, and their rendezvous haunted the forest.
She felt it, in the pit of my stomach, the familiar ache, that lost, regretful feeling. She should have never come, or even hoped to mend whatever it was Stefan and she had.
