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[That makes two of them.

Stefan laughs, struggling to keep his face even as he moves onto the next step, simply mixing them together for the next three minutes. There's no sugar here; that'll be added much latter, if either of them need it for taste.]

Masala chai's pretty special. Unlike most teas, the milk's the important part - a lot of others treat it as an aftertaste.

[He hums thoughtfully.]

You said other-me liked this? He has good taste.

Edited 2016-11-23 07:20 (UTC)

[ elena props her elbows on the counter across from him, letting her chin drop into her hand as she watches. only his question pulls her away from her thoughts, reminding her of how very different his trajectory has been to the stefan who came before him. ]

Um. He did, yeah.

[ and she doesn't know that she can convey just how much that man loved his tea. ]

If I tell you the story, you have to promise not to look at me like I've grown two heads.

After the month I've had, I'm sure very little can surprise me.

[He reaches for an electric tea kettle and pours water into it, just so he can have it nice and boiling hot. It's a little unorthodox, waiting for boiling water while the milk simmers, but he'll do what the book says.]

But, [and his laugh's genuine and as rich as the milk he's simmering,] I promise. No weird staring.

[ his laughter makes her smile, even as her gaze lowers to the cup of tea she cradles in between both hands. ]

When you — the other you — first got here, he seemed different to me. He was still you, but he also felt older and ... really grounded? Like very little could shake him. When we started to talk about why, he told me he found a balance through faith.

[ as in, religion. ]

A faith that centered him without consuming him. [ she remembers his exact words. ] He was Muslim.

[w h a t.

He found God? Scratch that, he found God by turning to Islam?]

How?

[Stefan promised he wouldn't stare. He can't stare. So he keeps his back turned to her as he pours the boiling water into the saucepan and adds the tea bags (+ cinnamon sticks in). As he watches the tea simmer, he lets out a small, disbelieving huff.]

Not that I'm uh, judging him or anything, but the Mystic Falls we know is pretty damn white.

Edited 2016-11-24 02:40 (UTC)

[ elena lifts a slender shoulder in a helpless half-shrug. ]

I don't know if you've noticed, but you're kind of old, Stefan.

[ he's traveled the world and then some. he's gone to school and college countless of times. mystic falls is a pretty narrow-minded town, but stefan's never struck her as a narrow-minded person. and the way he talked about it, it just made sense. ]

[He turns around, finally, if only to feign an offended look:] No.

[Elena's right, though. While he's a blank slate at this very moment, he had once carried the burden of centuries-old experiences and lugged around an impossibly heavy suitcase. The memories are still rattling around somewhere, and maybe, for this other, lovey-dovey Stefan, faith had been the way to empty it piece by piece.

Stefan mulls on it for a couple of seconds, stirring the tea and making sure it looks just right.]

I get that wisdom comes with age, but honestly? I still feel like I'm seventeen.

[ elena's smile is a touch warm, and not without shared sympathy.

she leans in, as though conspiratorial: ]

If my recent foray into adulthood has taught me anything? Most people don't know what they're doing, and some days we wake up and we all feel seventeen again. So if it helps, you're not alone. [ elena notices things about people. how some of them ask how are you, but eight times out of ten it's to be polite, not because they want to know.

and she notices they don't actually have the answers. they fake it until they make it, or they find answers of their own. ]

[He sure hopes he isn't alone.

Adulthood's scary enough when it forever looms over a guy: no matter how much he wants to embrace it, he can't. He will forever be seventeen, and the old-Stefan might've had a whole century to accept this.

New-Stefan doesn't. The fear's still very real, and he tries to push it back as he pours them two hot cups of chai.]

It helps a lot, [he admits, holding out a cup as a peace offering.] Just gotta fake it until you make it, right?

[ elena's smile grows a touch warmer.

she takes the cup of tea, accepting it for what it is, all while offering him a cinnamon stick with the very same sentiment in mind. ] Something like that. And eventually, it gets easier, I promise. You look out the window and find the sun still comes up and some jokes are still funny.

[ and life goes on.

he taught her that. ]

[The world will continue to move. He likes that - he likes the reminder that he's a speck in this vast, wide multiverse. Taking the cinnamon stick, Stefan goes ahead and stirs his tea.]

Of course. The universe doesn't exactly revolve around us and our troubles. [Wonderland existed before them and will continue to exist long after. That, Stefan never doubts. He takes a sip too. It's not quite as good as last time, but close enough.] You know, it sure feels like it sometimes.

Edited 2016-12-04 05:43 (UTC)

[ elena gives the softest of laughs — stefan isn't wrong.

mystic falls could be so insular, in more ways than one. the dangers, the consequences, the heartache: so much if it seemed to be drawn to them, as though they were the magnets. trouble found them, even when they didn't go looking for it. ]

Think it's a doppelganger thing? [ it's no longer strange to think of stefan as one, too. ]

Could be. [He leans in, as if he's about to return the favor and tell her a big secret.] Or, knowing our luck? It's just a Stefan and Elena thing.

[Stefan doesn't feel red threads tying them together with impossibly heavy burdens. They're not burdened by the curse here, beyond his mind-link spell and the various ins and outs of their loved ones, so? Ultimately? He's kinda hoping they can make their own fate.]

[ perhaps unsurprisingly, their thoughts are on the same wavelength.

elena lifts an eyebrow in his direction, its arching comically lofty: ]

We make our own luck, Salvatore.

[ now that they have their cups of tea, elena will direct him back to the conversation pit. of course, they will walk past some very intriguing video games that might be cause for a detour. behold the arcade section of the youth center, stefan. ]

[He doesn't follow her.

Not because of the video games, but because he can't once recall them being on a last name basis. The other Stefan was a Salvatore too, right?

He's reminded of this other, loving him, and he has to wonder if he's not meeting invisible expectations.]

I'd hope we do. [He takes another sip, and hm. It doesn't taste right.] Hang on, I think I need some sugar. Give me a sec.

[He turns back towards the kitchenette, gripping his mug with both hands. Maybe it's not the tea that feels wrong. Maybe it's him. But for now, he's gonna fix it the only way he knows how.]

Edited 2016-12-11 05:20 (UTC)

[ elena gives him more than a second.

she's prepared to give stefan all the time he needs, even if that quite literally means forever. time in wonderland stands still, and elena is starting to feel the unnatural element to wonderland in that sense. she doesn't know how vampires deal with it, but she supposes she'll have to learn.

as stefan returns to the kitchenette, elena returns to the conversation pit, picking up the book she'd left behind.

with nothing to actively distract her from her thoughts, a worried, distant frown returns to her expression, as she reads the same passage in the book.

at least three times. ]

[He comes back, hopefully before her fourth attempt, with a still-warm mug and a little bit of extra sugar.

Things weren't always awkward between them - that much he's gathered from his diaries and from the mindscape. He had once been comfort, home, and something more all at once. He isn't that person now. He's not sure if he can ever be that person again.

But God, he wants to figure out the role he's meant to play, so he sits down, curling his legs up under him as if he'd never left. His smile doesn't quite reach his eyes either.]

You know, I never did see what Jane loved about Mr. Rochester.

[ she gives a small laugh. ]

You know, every time I read this book, I ask myself the same question.

[ and every time she reads it, she ends up changing her mind, torn between supporting jane's choice, and being disgusted by rochester's behavior. ] I think ... what it comes down to is: their losses shaped them in really different ways, but they were also similar in equally significant ways. They both knew what it felt like to be alone and unloved. To be on the outside. They found something in each other they didn't find elsewhere.

[ her fingertip traces the book's cover. ]

I don't know. So many people focus on their love, and there is love in the story, but it's not the story. The story is Jane, who wasn't there to be beautiful or to be wanted or to be anything anyone else expected her to be. She fought to live life on her own terms and refused to be powerless. [ she leaves rochester. she loves him and she leaves him. ] However we feel about her choices, they were wholly and completely hers.

[ it's a story worth telling, no? ]

Sure, but other people have the right to react to whatever choices she made.

[There's a gleam in his eye - the kind that can mean no good whatsoever, because a literature debate? He's always up for those - as he takes a sip of his tea and sets the mug down on the table. Stefan pulls a leg up under him as he gets more comfortable.]

I mean, didn't Rochester have a wife locked up in that attic? She might've been mentally insane, but you can't say that he treated her - or Jane - right in trying to have his cake and eat it too.

Edited 2017-01-07 04:23 (UTC)

[ elena's head cants to the side with a small smirk, not unlike the gleam in his eye. ]

Isn't that an answer to a different question? We weren't talking about Jane's choices being free of judgment, or whether Rochester was reprehensible or not. [ she'd agree a lot of his actions are. ] You were wondering what Jane saw in him.

Edited 2017-01-07 18:24 (UTC)

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