The living room is warm with the low glow of the TV, the opening credits of some cheesy movie rolling while everyone argues about popcorn. Your phone sits forgotten on the side table, plugged in, screen lighting up occasionally with notifications you aren’t there to see.

You’re out with Elijah—just a quick snack run, he’d said, hand warm and possessive at the small of your back as he guided you out the door. You’d laughed, teasing him for insisting on coming with you, unaware of the tiny piece of your world you’d left behind.

Damon’s eyes flick to the phone as it lights up again.

“Well, well,” he murmurs, already reaching for it. “Someone left their entire life unattended.”

Elena frowns. “Damon, don’t—”

Too late. He unlocks it with a smug grin, eyebrows lifting. “Wow. She really needs to change her passcode. Who still uses—”

He trails off, scrolling.

At first it’s harmless. Texts. Normal ones. A mix of you checking on Elena, teasing Damon, a few short, affectionate messages signed with a simple E. Damon smirks, then stills.

“…Huh.”

Stefan leans forward. “What?”

Damon opens the photos app, expecting selfies or something equally mundane. Instead, he stops short.

There you are.

The room seems to go quieter as everyone leans in despite themselves.

It’s clearly a mirror photo, taken in warm, golden light. You’re wearing that black dress—the one Caroline once called illegal, the one that fits you like it was made with dangerous intent. Your head is tipped slightly to the side, a soft smile on your lips, eyes half-lidded with something unmistakably pleased.

Elijah stands behind you.

One of his hands is wrapped firmly—but reverently—around your throat, thumb resting just beneath your jaw, not tight, not cruel. Possessive. Intimate. His other hand spans your stomach, anchoring you against him as his lips brush your neck, caught mid-motion. You look utterly at ease. Happy. Claimed.

Bonnie’s breath catches. “Oh my god.”

Caroline’s hand flies to her mouth. “Is that— is that Elijah Mikaelson?”

Jeremy blinks. “Since when is she—”

Elena stares, heart pounding. “She didn’t tell me…”

Damon doesn’t make a joke. For once, he just looks… impressed. And surprised. “Well,” he says slowly, tilting the phone. “Did not see that coming.”

As if summoned by the universe itself, the front door opens.

Your laughter reaches them first, soft and familiar. Then Elijah’s voice—low, smooth, unmistakable—murmurs something meant only for you.

You step inside, Elijah close behind you, his hand automatically finding your waist.

And the room goes very, very still.

Elijah lifts his gaze, immediately taking in the scene: the too-quiet room, the way everyone’s eyes snap between you and the phone in Damon’s hand.

His expression doesn’t change much—still calm, still composed—but his hand tightens just slightly at your side.

“My love,” he says gently, eyes never leaving Damon. “I believe… that is yours.”

All eyes turn to you.

And suddenly, movie night just got a lot more interesting.