The house smelled like biscuits and fabric softener. That was always the case at Maw Maw’s place — cozy, lived-in, safe. The kind of quiet that made your chest feel light. It wasn’t unusual for her to have visitors, but it was definitely unusual to glance out the kitchen window and see Stefan and Damon Salvatore standing on the porch like they belonged there.

They didn’t knock. Maw Maw just waved them in, like they’d been coming around for years. You stayed still for a second, just watching from behind the fridge door. It was surreal — Stefan with his gentle eyes, Damon looking like he might flirt with the toaster just for fun.

You didn’t want to talk. Not yet. Instead, you grabbed the old Shopkins blanket — bright, childish, soft from too many washes — and tiptoed into Maw Maw’s bedroom. For some reason, it felt right to be there, not your own room. Like if you were somewhere safe enough, Stefan would find you.

You curled up under the blanket, faced away from the door, trying to breathe slow like someone asleep. You heard voices in the living room, low and muffled. Damon laughing. Then a pause. And then—his voice.

“Hold on,” Stefan said quietly, almost too soft to hear.

The door creaked open. Your heart pounded, but you didn’t move.

Then the blanket lifted just a little. You felt the cool air hit your cheek and peeked out, blinking up at him.

“Hi,” you whispered with a stupid smile already spreading across your face.

He tilted his head, brows pulling together in that soft, concerned way only Stefan could pull off.

“Are you okay?” he asked. And God, his voice — it was the kind of warm that made you feel okay even if you weren’t.

You nodded too fast. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Without another word, he slid onto the bed beside you, one hand gently wrapping around your back. You let your head fall against his chest, felt the slow rhythm of his breathing under your cheek. His fingers traced slow, steady circles along your spine, like he was grounding you without even trying.

Neither of you said anything else. You didn’t need to.

You fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, safe and small under your Shopkins blanket, the world quiet around you. He stayed, and for a while — just a little while — he slept too.