mikaelsonsister:

she yearns to take his hand in hers, to try to offer some comfort. but she doubts that anything she can do right now will be of any comfort to him, especially physical contact. he has every reason to hate her, and she suspect that he does. after what she’s done to him… if situations were reversed, she knows that she would be filled with resentment. that’s exactly what she had felt when her own parents did this to her. and that’s exactly what she’d felt every time niklaus drove a dagger through her chest. rebekah closes her eyes, and for a moment after he speaks, a sob overtakes her body. 

but then she gathers herself as best she can, looking at him with wet and desperate eyes.  for what it’s worth,   she says under her breath,   you would always have a place with me. dead or alive, human or vampire, you will always have a place with me, jeremy gilbert,   her words hitch in her throat, her voice squeaky as she presses her hands to her chest, right above her heart. she wishes she could beg him to live, and she wants to — it’s right on the tip of her tongue. but hasn’t she been selfish enough with him already? doesn’t she owe it to him, to her feelings for him, to let him go, like he wants? isn’t that the least she could do

you’re right. either way, you’ll have to say goodbye to the people you love. as terrible as my brothers are, i’ve never had to lose them. i may have wanted to…   she attempts a smile, but her lips still quiver and it looks twisted and wrong. there’s no way she can lighten this mood. it’s full of sadness that demands to be felt.   i don’t know what you want me to say. your mind seems to be made up. if you want me to try and talk you out of it, i will, but… just tell me what you want me to do. whatever you want me to do, i’ll do it.

her words are so soft, he actually misses the beginning of her sentence, but once his ears train in on the lower volume, his eyes soften. she’s grieving him already, and he hasn’t even passed yet. there’s a strange comfort in that, even if the words that follow after such a strong sentiment do not offer much clarity for him. they can talk and talk into circles until he dries out, or he can stop putting it off and choose.

cautiously, jeremy steps forward towards her, until unsteady hands are able to reach out and take hers, putting them aware from her chest. his calloused thumbs brush over her porcelain skin, as if trying to divine an answer from that delicate touch. tears sting at the corners of his eyes, and as he takes a deep breath, his grip tightens on hers.

“i don’t know if i’m strong enough,” he admits in a whisper. “i wish i could be strong enough for you.” from the moment he woke up to his new reality, jeremy’s been nothing if not brutally honest. and there’s no point in stopping now. “when i was 15, i was in love with a girl. her name was anna- and she, she was a vampire. and they killed her.” there’s no point in explaining who, or why it happened. there’s no point in describing the way she was tore screaming from his arms, or how she haunted him long after her body grew cold. that night would forever be burned in his thoughts. her death shaped him in ways that he still continues to discover to this very day. “that night, i tried to turn myself with a vial of her blood, because i knew that as a vampire, i didn’t have to feel the pain of what happened to her if i didn’t want to. but it didn’t work- i woke up, and it was all still there.” god only knows what she thinks of him now- fragile tiny human crying about clinging to his fragile human life. but perhaps she needed to hear where he is coming from, and why he’s not just being dramatic for the sake of it.

jeremy attempts to continue. “i need–” but he falters, shaking his head. a few blinks release the tears from the confides of his gaze. “i need a better reason than not feeling the pain, or not being dead. give me a reason to stay.”

  1. mikaelsonsister reblogged this from tetheredtoelena
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