Stefan never felt more like a vampire than when he was with you.

It wasn’t your heartbeat, though it was a sound that haunted him, the gentle rhythm calling to the predator in his blood. It wasn’t your warmth, though he could feel it even without touching you, like standing too close to the sun. It wasn’t even the scent of your skin, the way it reminded him of something fleeting, something that could slip through his fingers before he even had the chance to hold on.

No, it was the fear.

Not yours—his.

You were fragile in a way he could never be again, and it terrified him. The way your fingers laced with his without hesitation, the way you leaned into his touch like he wasn’t something to be feared. You trusted him. You looked at him like he was still human.

And Stefan had never been good at staying away from the things that could break him.

But tonight, with your hand resting over his heart, he felt like he was breaking.

“If I hurt you, I’d never forgive myself.” His voice was barely a whisper, his forehead pressed against yours, as if the closeness alone could protect you from what he was. From what he could become.

“Then don’t.”

Your fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away. It was always like this. You had seen him at his worst, had witnessed the monster he tried to bury deep inside himself, and yet, you still stood here.

Still chose him.

A shudder ran through him as you cupped his cheek, grounding him in the moment. His hands trembled where they held your waist, as if he feared gripping too tightly, feared leaving bruises on something so delicate.

Like maybe, for the first time in over a century, he didn’t have to be afraid of himself.

Like maybe, loving you was the most human thing he had ever done.