The morning air was cool and clean, a sharp contrast to the stuffy, drama-filled rooms of the night before. Leo leaned back against the side of his car, the metal already warmed by the rising sun. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, and looked across the parking lot at the school building. It looked normal, quiet in the morning light, but just the sight of it made his mind flash back to last night.
He remembered the shouting, the tears, the whole ugly mess at the Lockwood mansion. He replayed the conversation with Caroline in his head. He knew he'd said too much. The things he said were true—they had only ever been friends, and she had built up a fantasy—but he didn't have to say all of it. He shouldn't have let his own frustration and anger do the talking. He had seen how each word landed like a slap. But thinking about it now, rehashing it, was useless. You can't grab words out of the air and shove them back into your mouth once they're said.
He pushed himself away from the car with a sigh. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and started walking toward the school's front gate, joining the stream of other students.
The main hallway inside was bright with fluorescent lights and full of the usual morning noise—lockers clanging, friends laughing, shoes squeaking on the polished floor.He made his way through the crowd toward his own locker, needing to grab a couple of books before the first period.
The locker area was crowded, a knot of students milling around. He sidestepped a group of laughing freshmen and reached his locker. He spun the combination lock, the numbers clicking under his fingers, pulled the latch, and swung the small metal door open. He was leaning in, looking for his history book, when a loud, sharp BANG exploded from his right side.
He flinched, startled by the sudden noise right next to his ear. He turned his head quickly to see what had happened.
It was Caroline. The sound was a violent, sharp BANG that cut through the hallway chatter and made several people nearby jump. She had just slammed her locker shut with every ounce of strength she had, the metal door shuddering in its frame. A few students glanced over, their eyes wide, but they quickly looked away when they saw the expression on her face. She was standing perfectly still, one hand still gripping the cold metal handle, her knuckles white. Her back was ramrod straight, her shoulders set. She did not look at him.
For a long, tense second, she just stared at the closed locker door, as if she could burn a hole through it. Then, slowly,she turned her head.
Her eyes found his.
She looked at his face—his bright, clear eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, all the features that were, objectively, enough to capture any girl's attention. For just a split second, looking at him, she felt the old, familiar pull. But it was instantly swamped by a flood of other feelings.
The memory of last night crashed over her. The humiliation of her public outburst. The crushing hurt of his words, delivered so calmly while she fell apart. The image of him kissing Elena. The pain was so fresh and so deep she was sure she would never, ever forget it in her entire life.
You are not a weak girl, she told herself firmly, inside her mind. You are Caroline Forbes. He does not get to see you break. Not ever again. She let go of the locker handle. Her hand fell to her side, steady. Without a word, without any change in her cold, detached expression, she turned her body away from him. She pivoted neatly on the heel of her shoe, a clean military turn, and took her first step to walk away. Every movement was controlled. She was hiding it—the massive, world-ending ache of having her heart ripped out by the boy she loved and the friend she trusted
Leo watched her turn. It was pure habit, an automatic reflex drilled into him over weeks of routine. Every morning, they met here. He'd hear her locker click open, hear her humming, or complaining about a teacher. He'd turn, she'd smile, and he'd say her name. It was what they did.
His brain, still processing the slam and her icy stare, was lagging. His mouth operated on that old, familiar program. Before his conscious mind could catch up and shout Stop! Don't! the word was already out, spoken into the space between them.
"Caroline," he said. His voice was normal, casual, the way he always said it.
The name was out of his mouth before he could think. He immediately shut his lips, pressing them together. He didn't say anything else. He just stood there, his history book forgotten in his hand, his eyes fixed on her back.
Caroline heard it. Her name, in his voice. The same voice that had gently teased her a hundred times, and the same voice that had coolly destroyed her hopes last night. The sound of it now, so normal, as if nothing had happened, was like a small electric shock.
She stopped walking. Her whole body froze for just a moment—one full second where she didn't breathe. Her back was to him, her books held tightly against her chest. Every part of her wanted to turn around. A huge part of her wanted to scream at him, to ask him how he could say her name like that after what he did. Another, weaker part, just wanted to see if he was looking at her with any regret at all.
But she didn't turn. She remembered the humiliation. She remembered her promise to herself to be strong. Turning around would give him power. It would show him he still affected her.
So, after that one frozen heartbeat, she forced her legs to move. She took a step, then another. She walked down the hallway, her head held high, her steps deliberate and even. She pretended, with every ounce of her being, that she had not heard him. She walked straight ahead, not looking back, blending into the flow of students heading to class
Leo watched Caroline walk away, her back straight and unyielding. He couldn't help but let out a soft sigh. There was nothing to do about it now. He closed his locker door with a much quieter click than hers, turned, and started walking toward his first class, the book held loosely in his hand.
He'd only taken a few steps when a voice, clear and soft, cut through the hallway noise and stopped him.
"Hey, Leo."
He turned. It was Elena. She was standing a little way down the hall, having just come around the corner. She lifted her hand in a small, tentative wave.
Leo waved back, a simple movement of his fingers. As she began to walk toward him, the memory from last night hit him without warning—not just the kiss, but the feeling of it. The surprising warmth, the way everything else had just faded out. He had done it to make Stefan jealous .That was the only reason. But now, looking at Elena as she approached, her hair falling around her shoulders, he had to admit there was something else there. A soft, quiet feeling for her that had settled in his chest, one he really didn't want to think about or give a name to.
Elena came to a stop in front of him. She looked up at his face. His expression was distant, like he was lost deep in his own thoughts, replaying something in his mind.
"Leo?" she said again, her voice gentle, trying to pull him out of whatever deep meditation he seemed to be in.
Her voice broke his thought process. He blinked, his focus snapping back to the present, to her worried brown eyes looking up at him. He felt suddenly awkward, caught thinking about her. To cover it up, he asked the first normal, polite thing that came to his mind. The words came out in a bit of a hurry.
"Hey," he said, the word coming out a bit rushed. "How was… how was your night?" He asked it, and immediately knew it was a stupid question. The weakest, most obvious thing he could have said.It was just trying to hide the fact that he'd just been replaying the feel of her kiss in his mind.
Elena studied his face. She had seen more of what just happened than he realized. She'd been coming around the corner just in time to see Caroline slam her locker with a sound that made everyone jump. Elena had frozen, watching. She saw the rigid line of Caroline's back, the way she held her books like a weapon. A sharp pang of pity,had hit her right in the stomach.She saw the cold aura around Caroline, the hurt she was carrying like a shield.
Then she'd heard it. Leo's voice. Just one word: "Caroline." Hearing her name in his mouth, so normal, so familiar, sent a quick, hot little spike of jealousy through Elena's heart. It was an instinct she hated. He's still saying her name.
But that feeling didn't last. It melted away as soon as she got a good look at Leo's face. She saw the way his lips clamped shut the moment the name was out, like he'd made a mistake. She saw the slight confusion in his own eyes, not affection, but a kind of helpless frustration. He looked lost. He didn't know what to do with the fallout of last night any more than she did. He wasn't calling after Caroline with longing; he was uttering a habit by accident, and now he was stuck with the echo of it.
Now, standing in front of him, watching him struggle to ask the most basic question, she felt a small, understanding smile touch her lips. He was trying so hard to act like everything was fine, when absolutely nothing was fine. His awkwardness was more honest than any smooth line could have been.
"Honestly?" Elena said, her voice softening as she held his gaze. She wasn't going to give him a fake "fine" either. "It was… a lot." She let out a small breath, her shoulders dropping just a little. "Hard to sleep. My mind wouldn't shut off. I just kept thinking about… everything." She glanced briefly down the hall, in the direction Caroline had stormed off, before looking back at him. Her expression was warm, but the tired shadows under her eyes were real. "It all felt really heavy. Like a weight just sitting here." She pressed a hand lightly against her chest.
...
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