A Wound That Cuts Deep

Stefan's hands were still shaking as he pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over Caroline's name. He didn't hesitate.

Stefan: Why the hell did you show her that memory, Caroline?

Seconds later, his phone vibrated with a response.

Caroline: Oh, you mean the one where you shot your load 3 times without anyone even touching you?

His stomach dropped.

Caroline: You're mad at me? Really? Newsflash, Stefan—maybe be mad at yourself for being a cuck who gets off watching his girlfriend get wrecked by another man.

Stefan's grip tightened around his phone. His throat felt dry, his vision blurred with frustration.

Another message popped up.

Caroline: Don't bother me with your misplaced anger. Own up to what you are. Oh, and we should have told Elena that day at the Mystic Grill.

Stefan let out a shaky breath, his anger swirling into something heavier, something uglier.

Meanwhile, across the cafeteria, Caroline smirked and turned her phone to Bonnie, showing her the conversation.

Bonnie's eyes widened before she burst into laughter.

"Oh my God," Bonnie wheezed, covering her mouth as her shoulders shook. "That was savage."

Caroline grinned. "I only speak the truth."

Bonnie shook her head, still laughing when she felt a presence beside her. Turning, she saw Jeremy standing there, his gaze questioning.

"Can I steal you for a sec?" he asked, glancing briefly at Caroline before settling his focus on Bonnie.

Bonnie raised an eyebrow but nodded, her amusement fading slightly as she followed Jeremy out of the cafeteria.

Behind them, Caroline and the girls continued giggling, but the air around them hummed with something heavier—something inevitable.

_________________________

Meanwhile, across town…

The boutique was upscale but quiet, the kind of place where the scent of expensive cologne and fine leather lingered in the air. Leon had just slipped into a deep navy-blue suit jacket when he caught sight of her in the mirror's reflection—a woman with a striking, exotic beauty, her curls bouncing as she moved, her expression one of slight frustration.

She stood near a row of men's suits, her fingers running along the fabric, eyes scanning for something specific. What truly caught his attention, however, was the way her hot pink leggings clung to her figure, highlighting every curve. The ivory sweater she wore was a contrast—soft, delicate—almost as if she had no idea how much attention she commanded.

Leon adjusted his cuffs and turned toward her, intrigued.

"Looking for something?" His voice was smooth, easy, but there was no mistaking the weight behind his gaze.

She glanced up, surprised, before offering a smile that was equal parts shy and amused. "Yeah, actually. My pitbull tore up a suit, and I need to replace it before my best friend notices."

He raised an eyebrow. "Your best friend's suit?"

She smirked. "No. Her boyfriend's. Long story."

Leon hummed in amusement, stepping closer. " You buying another man a suit? That's a pretty generous thing to do. He must be something special."

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Not even a little. If anything, I'm just making sure I don't have to hear about it when she gets back from Chicago."

His interest piqued further. "Chicago?"

"Yeah, she works in construction management. She's out there for a project, which means I have a bit of freedom to breathe while she's gone." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "And to replace this damn suit before she murders me."

Leon smirked. He liked the way she spoke, the casual confidence, the playful energy in her tone. She wasn't trying to impress him—she was just being.

"You've got good taste," he said, nodding toward the suits she'd been eyeing. "But if you want something that'll actually fit the guy, you're better off with this cut." He reached for a sleek black suit with a modern fit, running his fingers over the material.

She watched him, biting her lip slightly. "You seem to know a lot about suits."

"I know a lot about a lot of things," he replied smoothly, handing her the suit. Their fingers brushed, and he didn't miss the slight intake of her breath.

She hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "What's your name?"

"Leon," he answered, watching her reaction.

She tilted her head, as if considering. "Interesting."

He liked her more by the second.

"So," he said, his voice dipping lower, more intimate, "am I getting your name, or do I have to keep calling you 'Chicago' in my head?"

She grinned, looking down before glancing back up at him. "Nina."

He let the name roll over his tongue, tasting it. "Nina," he repeated, satisfied. "I like it."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Why don't you put your number in? In case you need more fashion advice."

She took it without hesitation, her fingers moving deftly over the screen before handing it back. "In case I need advice, huh?"

He smirked. "Or in case you just feel like calling."

As they stepped outside, she flagged down a taxi, but before she could open the door, Leon placed a hand on her arm. "Let me drive you," he offered, his tone leaving little room for argument.

She hesitated, but the look in his eyes made the decision for her.

"Alright," she said, stepping away from the cab. "Let's see if you drive as well as you dress."

Leon chuckled, opening the passenger door of his sleek black car for her. As she slid inside, he knew one thing for certain—this wouldn't be their last meeting.

_________________________

Elena walked through the bustling halls of Mystic Falls High School, her thoughts preoccupied with the recent turmoil that had engulfed her life. Beside her, Bonnie chatted animatedly, trying to inject some normalcy into their day. As they approached their lockers, a familiar face intercepted them.

"Hey, Elena!" Dana called out, her tone unusually enthusiastic.

Elena offered a polite smile. "Hi, Dana. What's up?"

Dana glanced around conspiratorially before leaning in. "There's this new guy who'll be at the dance tonight. He really wants to meet you."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "Tell him she has a boyfriend."

Bonnie looked at Elena again, "Sort of…"

Ignoring Bonnie's comment, Dana continued, "You should at least meet him. His name is Klaus."

Elena's heart skipped a beat, the color draining from her face. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

Dana giggled, oblivious to the tension. "His name's Klaus. I know the name sounds old-fashioned, but I swear he's hot."

Bonnie's eyes darted around the hallway, her expression turning serious. "Where is he? Is he here?"

Dana shrugged. "I don't know. But he wants to know if you'll save him the last dance. How cute is that?"

Elena exchanged a worried glance with Bonnie. "Dana, are you feeling okay?"

Dana's smile faltered. "Yeah, why?"

Bonnie gently touched Dana's arm. "I think you should go to class now."

As Dana walked away, Bonnie turned to Elena, her voice low. "She's been compelled."

Elena's mind raced. Klaus was here, in Mystic Falls, and he was making his presence known in the most public way possible. The upcoming dance, which she had hoped would provide a brief respite from the chaos, now loomed over her like a dark cloud.

"We need to tell the others," Bonnie said, her tone urgent.

Elena dreaded what was coming, but she couldn't deny that the others Bonnie referred to would do what it took to protect her, even Damon.

Elena nodded, her resolve hardening. "Let's find Stefan and Damon."

They navigated the crowded halls, their previous concerns about schoolwork and teenage drama now seeming trivial. Reaching the Salvatore boarding house, they found Stefan and Damon in the living room, deep in discussion.

"Guys," Elena interrupted, her voice steady despite the mix of emotions bubbling beneath the surface. "Klaus made his first move."

Damon's eyes narrowed, events of the past days melting away, "What happened?"

Elena recounted the encounter with Dana, each word solidifying the gravity of their situation. When she finished, the room was thick with tension.

"So we go to the dance, we find him," Damon declared.

Stefan frowned. "Really? How are we going to do that? We don't even know what he looks like."

Damon smirked. "Something tells me he's not going to be sixteen and pimply."

Elena interjected, "He could be anywhere at any time. He compelled somebody at school. I guess it's not as safe as we thought."

Before anyone could respond, a knock echoed through the house. Damon moved to answer it, revealing Alaric standing on the doorstep.

"There you are," Damon greeted, relief evident in his voice.

Alaric stepped inside, his expression grave. "Sorry I'm late."

Damon's demeanor shifted. "Hey, I need you to put me down as a chaperone at the dance tonight. Klaus made his first move."

Elena's mind raced, trying to piece together their next steps. "Okay, so we find him and then what? What's our plan of attack?"

Bonnie's eyes sparkled with determination. "Me. I'm the plan. He has no idea how much power I can channel. If you can find him, I can kill him."

Alaric raised an eyebrow. "That's not going to be that easy. I mean, he is the biggest, baddest vampire around."

Damon nodded in agreement. "Alaric has a point. I mean, what if he..."

Before he could finish, Bonnie extended her hand, and with a flick of her wrist, Damon was thrown across the room, landing with a thud.

Stefan's eyes widened in surprise. "Well, I was impressed."

Bonnie lowered her hand, her expression fierce. "It doesn't matter if he's an Original. I can take down anyone who comes at me. I can kill him, Elena. I know I can."

Elena felt a surge of hope mingled with fear. The dance was no longer just a school event; it was a battlefield. And they were about to face their most formidable enemy yet.

As the evening approached, the group prepared for the dance, each lost in their thoughts. Elena donned her dress with trembling hands, the weight of the impending confrontation pressing down on her. She glanced at her reflection, trying to summon the courage that had carried her through so many trials.

Still, there were things she felt the need to settle first.

__________________

The dim candle light flickered against the house walls of Leon's house, the air thick with the scent of aged magic and burning incense. Seated around a large wooden table were Bonnie, Katherine, and Greta, each of them exuding a different kind of tension as they planned for the night ahead.

Bonnie's fingers tapped lightly against the table, her eyes darting between the other women, though she kept her thoughts guarded. Katherine leaned back lazily, her expression unreadable behind the mask she wore, and Greta, ever composed, stood with arms crossed, waiting.

Leon looks over his shoulder. The sound of the shower upstairs had stopped.

"Vanessa's finished. Looks like we're out of time." said Leon, "Does everyone know their part?"

Each of them nodded, then all of them felt a presence at the door. Greta reacted instantly, weaving an invisible spell that rippled through the air.

The door opened with a twist of Leon's hand.

Elena stepped cautiously into the house, eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. Her presence caused a ripple in the atmosphere—uncertainty, curiosity, and something else, something darker beneath the surface.

Unseen forces moved, and with a silent command through telepathy, Bonnie moved to leave and Greta, still cloaked, followed her out.

Elena wanted to stop Bonnie, but couldn't bring herself to do so. At the same time, Bonnie didn't seem like she planned to talk to Elena either. She quickly assumed Bonnie had some sort of witch business with Leon. She wasn't exactly sure what dealings they had, she just knew that they were in the same coven. Leon was the leader and Bonnie is a witch royalty.

Elena shook the thoughts from her mind. After all, she and her best friends had just had a conversation about adapting to their new reality.

Katherine remained. Masked. Still.

Elena stiffened. The masked woman unnerved her, but before she could ask for more privacy, Leon spoke. His voice was smooth, rich with amusement.

"I know why you're here."