𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞-𝕹𝖎𝖓𝖊: 𝗦𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗮𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          
Chapter Twenty-Nine
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Sweet Caroline
                          
April 2nd, 2010
Sensational wafts of a steaming breakfast saunter through the confines of the room, my stiff arms stretch out against the bedcovers as my hands wander across the mattress, only to be met with the remnant cold of Caroline's side of the bed. A knock on the bedroom door captured my attention, the possessor standing at the door frame with a flush plate full of morning grub.
  "Good morning!" Caroline chirps, leaving the plate on the bedside table accompanied by customary cutlery whilst she shifts to sit beside me on the end of the bed.
  "You're in a good mood, where's yours?" I observe, gesturing at her empty hands as I sit up in her delectably comfortable bed, using the stray fork to pick a sliced strawberry from the plate.
  "Kitchen. Just wanted to get you yours first. There's nothing on the itinerary today so, I thought, we could just hang out. Protected by your handy boundary spell." she explains, whisking off into the kitchen to return with her own perfectly designed plate, stacked with pancakes and fresh fruit.
  "That's fine by me, spending the day with you wouldn't be so bad." I joked, leading Caroline to laugh as she sat beside me, leaning against the headboard as we trifle through our breakfast.
  "What's going on? Between you and Elijah." Caroline questions, turning to me with soft, encouraging eyes. There's no judgment, just wonder. It's comforting since the only questions I had received about Elijah had foul intent, there was judgment laced in every word from Damon and or Stefan.
  "Elijah is one of my oldest companions. A long time ago...Damon had abandoned me, I felt lost, frightened and, above all else, alone. I had met a man at one of the bars back in 1917, it was the man's brother, Elijah, who befriended me at the bar. He allowed me to pour my heart out to him, about my mother, my father, my brothers, everything. We bonded quicker than a house of fire and he became like a brother to me not long after that." I explained, sighing at the relief of information that lifted from my chest, happy that I could entrust age-old secrets with someone who could be trusted, someone who would listen.
  "Elijah means a lot to you then." It was more of a statement than a question, her realisation of Elijah's meaningfulness rivalled what she had seemed to already have been notified about.
  "That he does. Like you, Bonnie, Stefan, Damon and Elena. You all mean a lot to me. Some more than they'll ever know." I hinted, nudging her slightly as we sat contently beside one another. I couldn't allow my own feelings to cloud my judgment and I wouldn't let them complicate things between her and Matthew Donovan, not more than Lockwood already had.
  "Do you still have feelings for Matt? You mentioned something to Lockwood about a kiss." I inquire, genuinely curious of the feelings transpiring between Caroline and Tyler.
  "Matt and I broke up, again, he didn't say why, he just left it down to the distance forming between us. Being a vampire puts a permanent strain between us." She murmurs, picking at the rest of her food as I finish my plate, placing it back on the bedside table.
  "I'm sorry to hear that, Caroline. Despite everything that's happened, I am." I returned, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze as the blonde leans into me.
  "I just wish things weren't so difficult," she muttered, discarding her plate to the side as we returned to comfortable silence in each other's embrace, her tender coldness confusingly comforting as we rest against each other.
  "Me too," I whispered back, sliding a piece of stray hair away from the bewitching features of her flawless face. Once I had begun to care for someone, it was difficult to turn my back on those feelings, even almost a hundred years on.