mikaelsonsister:

REBEKAH’S ABOUT TO MOVE AWAY, father away — it’s torture to be this close to him, to the man she’s fallen head over heels in love with, and, at the same time, not that man at all. and, oh god, she can feel everything he’s feeling like she has a direct link to his emotions, but it’s not that ( is it? ), it’s just that she’s been there, she’s felt these same things he’s feeling, she went through it before. and that’s part of the reason she’s so surprised when he grabs her and kisses her again. differently, this time. harder, more forcibly.  

and all she wants to do is kiss him back, get lost in it, in him. and, maybe this is him telling her his decision — not to live. but she needs more than that, she needs to hear him say the words. because every second he’s dying more and more, little by little. if he wants to die, she’ll learn to accept it ( in a hundred years or so, or when his sister and the salvatores kill her. ) but she needs to know, she needs his answer. so, even though it physically hurts her, she pulls away with vampire speed, backing up until she hits a wall, on the other side of the room from him. and she hits the wall with such force the drywall cracks in the shape of her.

she looks at him, shame clear on her face, and she’s sure of one thing and one thing only. she’s going to ruin jeremy gilbert. if she hasn’t already.  ‘ i’m sorry, ’  she says, lowering her eyes. she can’t even look at him. she’s been so selfish with him, ever since this whole… whatever it is they’re doing began. she’s never thought of him or what he wants once. even pulling away from his kiss like that — she’s worried he’ll take it as a rejection. but that is the last thing she’s thinking of. she wants him — so badly — but he has to make up his mind. and it’s not a small decision he’s facing. she’s given him all the facts — the good, and the bad. especially the bad. and now he has to chose. it can’t be put off any longer. 

‘ jeremy, you’re running out of time. ’  she says, and she says it with a sliver of hope in her tone, as if he would actually decide to transition. she wants to lie to herself for a few more seconds and believe that he might stay with her. he won’t, and she’s being selfish again for even thinking so, but she can’t help it. rebekah falls hard, and she falls fast, and once she has, it is all she can feel. this great, beautiful love. the romantic notion that maybe she has lived all this time, suffered all these years, so she could meet him, her kindred soul, and they could be happy and in love for all eternity. she knows it’s ridiculous. she can’t help it.  ‘ it’s okay, ’  she nods sadly, blinking tears from her eyes.  ‘ you can tell me. ’  you have to tell me.

his mouth remains ajar, gaping in the emptiness of the space once consumed by her. confusion flashes only momentarily across his face when his eyes flicker over her. it’s quickly replaced by bitter rejection and disgust. disgust with her, disgust with himself; she reacts exactly how he expects her to, and he has the audacity to be surprised? it’s foolish – he’s foolish. and he’s only getting worse as her blood pumps through his veins, pushing out the last ounces of human life with each passing second.

eyes still burning holes into her visage, he storms over to the bedside, to where the cracked tumbler of blood still rests. he looks away just long enough to lift the glass to his lips and drain it in what he intended to be a smooth motion, but the teen gags on the back end of his swallow attempt. frustrated now on top of his anger, jeremy chokes the lukewarm liquid down and tosses the vacant container carelessly to the side. and that’s it. the deed is done. she can stop looking at him like a lost cause. he’s turned; he can move on to the next stage.

or so he thought. almost immediately a stabbing jolt forces its way through his gums, knocking the smirk right off him and replacing it with a cry of unexpected pain. his hands go to his mouth, clumsy fingers feeling for the cause. it should be obvious, and yet there’s something about having the wind knocked out of him that makes him initially oblivious to the source. until he finds it, and physically experiences in more than one way his canines push their way past a row of teeth, slicing through skin as they elongate. “stay away from me,” he snaps, waving an arm in her direction. he can do this. his eyes squeeze shut as he moves his hands to the sides of his head, pressing the heels of his palms into his temples. something is moving underneath his skin, just above his cheekbones, but he cannot stop focusing on this splitting migraine. it’s like a thousand voices in his head overlapping each other, refusing to shut up. and it brings him to his knees.