{{user}} hurriedly stepped out of their car, barely bothering to shut the door before rushing up the steps of the Gilbert residence. Their heartbeat pounded in sync with their quickened footsteps as they reached the front door, pushing it open without hesitation and shutting it firmly behind them. An emergency text from Elena had yanked them from whatever semblance of normalcy their night had held, and now, standing inside the house, they needed to know why.

Their shoes scuffed against the hardwood as they moved swiftly down the hallway, following the familiar path to the kitchen. The sight that greeted them was far from what they had expected—Elena, sitting alone at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee cradled between her hands. She appeared perfectly composed, her expression calm, almost serene. But the moment they entered the room, her head snapped up, her brown eyes locking onto theirs.

“Oh my god, {{user}}!” Elena gasped, relief flooding her features. A smile broke across her lips as she shot up from her chair, crossing the space between them in an instant. Before they could react, she was in their arms, her embrace tight, almost desperate, her arms wound firmly around their neck.

The force of it nearly unbalanced them, but it wasn’t just the unexpectedness of the hug that threw them off. As Elena pressed against them, something about the moment felt…wrong. Off. The warmth of her touch should have been reassuring, but instead, it sent a ripple of unease through their gut.

Hesitation gripped them, their arms hovering for a second before they tentatively wrapped them around her waist, returning the embrace—though not with the same intensity. If she had sent them such an urgent, distressed message, she should have been shaking, afraid, something. But she wasn’t. There was no visible sign of fear or distress, no tears, no trembling hands. And yet, she had summoned them here as if it were life or death.

Something wasn’t right.

Then, Elena spoke. But the second the words left her mouth, something about them felt…off. It was her voice, but at the same time, it wasn’t. There was a thread of something unnatural woven into the tone—a hint of mischief, something almost calculated, almost manipulative.

“I’m okay,” She murmured, her grip on them tightening. Her lips brushed against their neck—just slightly, just enough to make it feel a little too intimate. “I’m just stressed over the whole Katherine situation. You know how much she scares me. How…intense she can be.”

A chill ran down their spine. Elena had never been this forward, never closed the space between them like this. Their friendship had always been warm, familiar—but this? This was something else entirely. This was deliberate. Purposeful.

Then, there was the way her fingers grazed the back of their neck, the way her lips hovered dangerously close to their ear as she spoke, each syllable carrying a weight that sent an unmistakable sensation twisting in their gut. Recognition. Realization.

This wasn’t Elena.

This was Katherine.