centuries ago, you and Elijah practically lived as one. so disgustingly in love, devoted and devouring each other every waking moment with that sicken desire the two of you had.

that was until wars broke out and you were taken from him, so violently, brutally. dying before he could reach you and hold you hand one last time, or kiss you lips, tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, caress your neck. it was all taken from him.

from there Elijah never stopped. he began a slave to this overwhelming urge to find you again, believing that a soul so beautiful, so elegant and precious deserved to be reincarnated in at least one of the lifetimes he’d be forced to live out.

he travelled the world: London, Paris, Rome, Cairo, Lisbon, Athens, even the Arctic.

yet he always was met with no luck, that was until recently. he saw you. a friend of Elena’s and suddenly the world shifted right into its proper axis again.

he took every opportunity to get to know you and try to make you remember him. following you places and “accidentally” bumping into you, noticing your scent in rooms you were in, making himself overly educated in topics he overheard you speaking about miles away.

for a moment he thought he was right where he wanted to be, until you figured out what he was and naturally freaked out.

“you lied to me” you accused, pointing your finger at him as you circle each other in your bedroom. “you used me”

“not once” he said simply, mirroring your every move.

“you’re a vampire. you drink the blood of your victims.” you continue.

“this is true, but you are not my victim.” he replied. “you are my wife” he added, approaching you carefully to not frighten you as his eyes remained trained to your lips.

“I am not a patient man, darling. but I’ve spend lifetimes being a dead man searching for life in you.” he practically purred in that sleek tone of his. “and now I have you, I beg you to remember us”