A/N: So I decided to do one of those "Put your iTunes on shuffle and write until the song ends" things, and I almost did that - but I might have hit the repeat button once of twice :) Song list with artists at bottom. Enjoy! (Elena's POV, no set timeline)


Their drive was long; amazingly so.

Warm sun and cool breeze and freedom. She felt free, like she never had while she was alive.

Death really did set me free.

She let out a light laugh at the thought, and he smirks over at her with that smirk and those eyes and she feels free – she is free. So she slides down the bucket seat and presses her lips against his and down his throat to rest her forehead in the curve of his neck.

The wind is tangling her hair, and she would have cared before – before, when she cared – but now closed her eyes and leaned her head back to enjoy the air and sky and sun.

She was dead, yet she had never felt more alive.

A Rush of Blood to the Head

Her head was pounding in sharp, powerful bursts. She could feel the hole in her abdomen expelling the last bit of blood and life from her body.

She had chosen this. She chose to die. And it was worth it – to save the people she loved, she would do anything to save them. Keep them safe. They're safe and she'd chosen this, but now she was having a hard time breathing and her vision was blurry and her arms and legs were numb and she didn't regret it but she was scared.

Her blackening vision became even murkier when her tears of pain and loss filled her eyes. I don't want to die.

She didn't want to die – she wasn't ready, she hadn't lived. She'd never been to Disneyland, she'd never rock-climbed, she'd never travelled, she'd never lived. In the last few seconds (she'd chosen those last few seconds) when all she could comprehend was that she wanted more time, there were arms around her broken body, and liquid metal flowing into her mouth.

Then she died.

Her entire being ached, and her eyes opened.

Then she had more time.


"Lick, shot, lime," he said, the tone of his voice matching seamlessly with the undeniably dirty look on his face.

She couldn't help but bite her lip, smile, and lick the inside of his wrist (his eyes darkened) before shaking the salt over his quickening pulse. It was nice to know that he was just as affected by her as she was by him.

Lick off his wrist (he inhaled sharply at the feeling).

Shot of tequila (she swallowed without a wince).

Lime (she licked her lips at the taste).

Kiss (he improvised that part).


"Hey," she heard behind her, the sound prompting her attempt to discreetly wipe the tears from her eyes. Discreetly wipe the tears off her cheeks.

"How did you get back here?" she asked, wrapping her arms tighter around her body to fight the chilling air. Deep inhale of the chilling air. She ripped up the grass under her.

"Hopped the fence," he replied as he sat down next to her on the backyard lawn; the grass was slightly wet, as grass always seems to be, and she could feel the moisture seeping slowly through her jeans. He mirrored her cross-legged position and they ripped up grass together.

They were silent for a while, with only the quiet sounds of crickets and a distant clanging of dishes floating from the house. The sound of grass being torn from its home in the ground. The sound of him waiting.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said.

"Okay," he answered.

Quiet for a while.

"Just one question," he said, in a lighter tone than was probably appropriate.

She sighed, rolled her watery eyes, but gestured for him to go on.

"Did you at least name the grass 'Stefan' before ripping it to shreds?"

She turned her head towards him in shock, and let out a harsh exhale in disbelief.

"You are unbelievable!" she said, feeling an unnecessary rush of anger towards him. "We just broke up, like an hour ago! Do you seriously have no comprehension of what 'sensitivity' is?"

He didn't react, which only fueled her more. She really wanted to throw something at him, but all that was available were the lawn bits she'd spent the last hour dislodging.

Her face was scrunched up in fury and he was soon being showered in grass as she desperately tried to throw the pieces hard enough to do some damage. She was breathing heavily, and her arms ached and twitched in response to the over exertion. He was running his fingers through his hair to remove the large array of grass that had landed on his head.

She slumped over in exhaustion, her tired eyes once again filling with tears, a choked wet sob escaping her throat. She felt his arm wind around her back, his hand rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. She dropped her head to his shoulder.

Deep breath.

"You made me mad on purpose," she stated simply. She could feel his heart beat – it seemed wrong that it should be there. If you had a heartbeat, you were alive. That was logical. He was dead. Illogical.

"Yeah, well I figured you needed some kind of outlet," he shrugged, his voice uncaring yet his arm tightened around her. He was full of contradictions.

She took a deep calming breath.

"Thanks," she whispered quietly.

He didn't respond, but reached his free hand forward to pluck a blade of grass from the ground, then another, then another. She placed her hand over his to make him upheave an entire handful, then another, then another.

"Now all I can think of is that the grass is Stefan," she said, tearing it to shreds.

He smirked and let out a small laugh before joining in.


"Mmm," she groaned, stretching her limbs lazily before turning to her side and curling into the warm body next to her, sightlessly placing a kiss on his chest. She squinted her eyes open before quickly snapping them shut at the sight of bright rays of sun that broke through the open curtains.

"It's too bright," she complained, reaching out to throw an arm over her face.

"Then close your eyes," he said dryly, his chest rumbling slightly under her head. She hit him on the stomach causing him to laugh, "I'm sorry, was that supposed to hurt?"

"Oh, shut up," she said, hitting him again and hearing the same laughter again.

She pulled the comforter up over their heads.

"Much better," she mumbled happily, red spots still floating over her closed lids.

His arm tightened around her waist, his lips pressed against her hair.

They both sighed contently.

Daylight - Matt and Kim
A Rush of Blood to the Head - Coldplay
Crystalized - The XX
Sheets - Damien Jurado
Flume - Bon Iver

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