The air in Mystic Falls always felt a little heavier at night.

Maybe it was the fog.

Maybe it was the history.

Maybe it was the fact that every street corner seemed to hide a secret.

You were sitting on the steps outside the Mystic Grill, watching the moonlight bounce off the quiet road. The night was calm—too calm for a town like this.

Elena Gilbert walked up slowly, her expression guarded, like she was bracing herself for something she didn’t want to say.

She sat beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched.

Neither of you spoke for a while.

You could feel the tension in the air, like electricity before a storm.

Finally, Elena sighed.

“Do you ever feel like… you’re living in someone else’s life?” she asked.

You turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”

Elena stared out at the road, her eyes distant.

“I mean… like you’re always watching me, watching everyone, and you’re trying to figure out where you fit.”

You frowned. “Elena, you know I fit right here. With you.”

She flinched, like she didn’t want to hear that.

“Don’t say that,” she whispered. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Your heart tightened.

Because you knew she was hiding something.

Elena took a shaky breath.

“I’ve been jealous,” she said.

Your eyes widened. “Of what?”

Elena looked at you, and for the first time you saw something real in her eyes—something raw and vulnerable.

“Of everyone you date,” she admitted.

Your stomach dropped.

You didn’t know what to say.

Because you’d always thought Elena was the kind of girl who didn’t care.

The kind of girl who could be with anyone and not feel anything.

But the way she was looking at you now made it clear:

She cared.

She cared more than she wanted to admit.