"Just a little, yeah," he teases, though his smile no longer reaches his eyes. He'd assumed the worst, based on Hope's presence at his boarding school, but Freya's joke had indirectly confirmed some of his suspicions.
He looks older than the last time Freya's seen him, for certain; he's taller, and his facial features have settled in, as if finally telling the world that he's growing up.
"You staying just for the night, or...?" He sounds more hopeful than he wants to let on. "Maybe a little longer than that?"
"I was instructed to take a vacation and see my niece, so I am following doctor's orders."
The joke has a slight bittersweet tone to it, given the way things have ended with Keelin, but it's likely for the best. Their relationship had been important, to both of them, but Keelin needed more than a girl that was always caught up in saving her family, while Freya couldn't bear to choose a life where they truly could never be together again - where Klaus couldn't be in the same room as his daughter.
She would always love her, as much as she could have, but it's for the best that they're moving on.
"So yes, I am staying. At least for a little while. Klaus invited me to visit him in Australia at the end of the summer, but until then I have no ... definite plans."
So that's where Klaus disappeared off to. Stefan had suspected the worst, from what Caroline had told him, but his old friend would do just fine down under. Make some friends with the fishes, maybe learn to grill on the barbie...
"Better hope he means our summer, and not an Australian winter," Stefan quips, though his smile's lost a little of its luster. "I'm sure the school is probably the last place you'd want to stay in, but we've got space if you think you'll be around a while."
He couldn't blame her if she turned him down: as much as he loved teaching the kids American history (and literature - he couldn't forget how many hours he spent grading their essays), they were quite the handful. Even though he'd lost his superhearing, he could've sworn he'd heard a few giggling about him underneath their breaths.
Still, it had given him a renewed sense of purpose. Without his brother, Stefan wasn't sure if he would've found the will to live again - and when he's with the kids, he sometimes forgets how hopeless everything had seemed in the beginning.
"I'm staying with Hayley, but thank you." The offer is a kind one all the same. "It's probably better that way - I'm not really the best with children beyond Hope."
Vincent would probably be horrified if he knew that she was influencing young magical minds. Then again, a place like this is probably something Vincent would love, if he didn't have his responsibilities in New Orleans with Marcel.
"But if you need to get away from the school and would like to give me the grand tour of Mystic Falls, that I believe is an offer I can accept."
"Gladly." He wouldn't mind the break, either. Stefan needed a couple of hours away from being Mr. Salvatore - and he's pretty sure Jeremy and Caroline can hold down the fort in his absence. In a real crisis, anyway, he would be a sitting duck.
As his fries come in, he shoots her an apologetic look, as if he can't bear to part from his food -
She laughs a bit at that before shaking her head. "You can eat first. I won't be standing here, tapping my foot impatiently. I actually came in for something to eat myself."
So if he doesn't mind sitting and talking to her for a little while longer, they can both get what they want.
Oh thank God. Stefan's shoulders sink with unspoken relief as he keeps the basket of salty, gooey cheese fries between them. Prior to rejoining humanity, he wouldn't have given the unhealthy treat a second thought. Now? Every moment is precious, and he figures he can indulge in this more often.
“In that case, I can safely recommend everything. You can't go wrong.”
Though he will pull the waiter over, just to pay for the meal before she can.
“They're incredible. Also the most unhealthy thing known to man, which is probably half of its appeal.”
He reaches for a fry and takes a bite. He will regret this in the morning, he can already tell, but he's gotta sell it – so he gives Freya a wide grin and motions for her to try.
She eyes him for a moment, curious, before reaching forward and taking one of the fries between her fingers. There's only a moment of hesitation before she pops it in her mouth, and her eyes widen in surprise. One hand comes up to cover her lips as she tries to speak as she chews.
Perhaps he shouldn't sound so confident about a dish that's pretty much guaranteed to increase his risk of cardiovascular disease, but he only lives once. (As the kids say.)
"It's supposedly even better with chili, if you wanna spring for that."
It's definitely something to consider as she weighs her food options, then she smirks slightly.
"But is the chili here as good as the chili at Rosseau's?" The tiny New Orleans bar had suffered a great deal since the loss of Sophie Devereaux in terms of food, but they did manage to find a chef who could get very, very close.
Or at least that's what she's been told. Sophie was already dead by the time Freya arrived in New Orleans.
"Well, you've got a pretty good guide with you." Stefan grins, helping himself to a few more of those unhealthy fries. God, how did he ever subsist on animal blood again?
"Food aside, is there anything you really wanna do?"
She pauses for a moment, before giving a small shrug. "Unfortunately, there happen to be multitudes of answers to that question. Even though I'm technically a thousand years old, I have never really had the opportunity to do much."
Stefan reaches out for his phone, making a big show out of opening up a note-taking app. "That just means we've gotta hit the ground running."
Chalk it up to his newfound humanity, or his desire to actually live again, but Freya's lack of experience is an opportunity to get themselves out there. See what the world has to offer.
Or at least, what Mystic Falls and the greater state of Virginia can.
A whole century, condensed in an evening or two... Stefan raises his eyebrows at the challenge. A lesser man might think it impossible. That lesser man also doesn't have Stefan's penchant for self-punishment.
"In that case, we'll go with the short version." He laughs too. "Oh, what about slang? Do we need to get you up to speed on that too?"
"I think slang I have handled," she says with a small nod. "The benefits of having a young niece who spends a lot of time with the people creating it."
Some words still trip her up every now and then, but Hope knows she's surrounded by very old people and is always willing to take it step by step. At least they don't shun her for it or try to correct her language.
Plus, Hope and her peers are far more reliable. While Stefan takes pride in his linguistic ability, slang and him don't always agree. It's either because he's a few years behind, or he didn't catch up to his supposed "peers," or honestly, some decades, he just didn't bother.
(Why "ginchy" went out of use in favor of "apprehensive," he'll never know.)
"Now multiply that by nineteen, and you've got my life," he teases, finally helping himself to his soda. "Not that I particularly mind it."
"As long as you enjoy it, that's what matters." She finishes off her own fries, before knocking back the rest of her drink. "Though speaking of Hope, I should probably get back before she thinks I'm neglecting her. Perhaps we can make plans for that tour another day?"
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deathlessness) wrote2017-06-25 03:31 pm
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He looks older than the last time Freya's seen him, for certain; he's taller, and his facial features have settled in, as if finally telling the world that he's growing up.
"You staying just for the night, or...?" He sounds more hopeful than he wants to let on. "Maybe a little longer than that?"
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The joke has a slight bittersweet tone to it, given the way things have ended with Keelin, but it's likely for the best. Their relationship had been important, to both of them, but Keelin needed more than a girl that was always caught up in saving her family, while Freya couldn't bear to choose a life where they truly could never be together again - where Klaus couldn't be in the same room as his daughter.
She would always love her, as much as she could have, but it's for the best that they're moving on.
"So yes, I am staying. At least for a little while. Klaus invited me to visit him in Australia at the end of the summer, but until then I have no ... definite plans."
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"Better hope he means our summer, and not an Australian winter," Stefan quips, though his smile's lost a little of its luster. "I'm sure the school is probably the last place you'd want to stay in, but we've got space if you think you'll be around a while."
He couldn't blame her if she turned him down: as much as he loved teaching the kids American history (and literature - he couldn't forget how many hours he spent grading their essays), they were quite the handful. Even though he'd lost his superhearing, he could've sworn he'd heard a few giggling about him underneath their breaths.
Still, it had given him a renewed sense of purpose. Without his brother, Stefan wasn't sure if he would've found the will to live again - and when he's with the kids, he sometimes forgets how hopeless everything had seemed in the beginning.
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Vincent would probably be horrified if he knew that she was influencing young magical minds. Then again, a place like this is probably something Vincent would love, if he didn't have his responsibilities in New Orleans with Marcel.
"But if you need to get away from the school and would like to give me the grand tour of Mystic Falls, that I believe is an offer I can accept."
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As his fries come in, he shoots her an apologetic look, as if he can't bear to part from his food -
"Let me just take this to go."
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So if he doesn't mind sitting and talking to her for a little while longer, they can both get what they want.
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“In that case, I can safely recommend everything. You can't go wrong.”
Though he will pull the waiter over, just to pay for the meal before she can.
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She sighs as she glances down at the menu, before looking back at the cheese fries again.
"Those look delicious though."
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He reaches for a fry and takes a bite. He will regret this in the morning, he can already tell, but he's gotta sell it – so he gives Freya a wide grin and motions for her to try.
“Go ahead. I can't finish this by myself.”
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"That is delicious."
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Perhaps he shouldn't sound so confident about a dish that's pretty much guaranteed to increase his risk of cardiovascular disease, but he only lives once. (As the kids say.)
"It's supposedly even better with chili, if you wanna spring for that."
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It's definitely something to consider as she weighs her food options, then she smirks slightly.
"But is the chili here as good as the chili at Rosseau's?" The tiny New Orleans bar had suffered a great deal since the loss of Sophie Devereaux in terms of food, but they did manage to find a chef who could get very, very close.
Or at least that's what she's been told. Sophie was already dead by the time Freya arrived in New Orleans.
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"No," he admits with a small laugh. "Though I'd pay to have something like this down there."
Now that, you know, he can actually enjoy the taste of food rather than pretending and going through the motions of it all.
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"Food aside, is there anything you really wanna do?"
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Chalk it up to his newfound humanity, or his desire to actually live again, but Freya's lack of experience is an opportunity to get themselves out there. See what the world has to offer.
Or at least, what Mystic Falls and the greater state of Virginia can.
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She laughs a bit at that, before shaking her head. "Well, how about ... everything between 1914 and 2014? I was asleep for a very long time."
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"In that case, we'll go with the short version." He laughs too. "Oh, what about slang? Do we need to get you up to speed on that too?"
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Some words still trip her up every now and then, but Hope knows she's surrounded by very old people and is always willing to take it step by step. At least they don't shun her for it or try to correct her language.
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(Why "ginchy" went out of use in favor of "apprehensive," he'll never know.)
"Now multiply that by nineteen, and you've got my life," he teases, finally helping himself to his soda. "Not that I particularly mind it."
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