(Ian Somerhalder.) — boxes of take out and pizza, the many, many empty bottles of beer and scotch and a lot of things she didn't even know. —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — Anything that looked, felt or smelt disgusting went into the big black bag. Soon enough, the living room had started to —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — look like a living room and she could finally breathe without having to want to throw up at the sight or smell of the —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — place. She'd straightened up the couch and had moved to the kitchen when Ian walked back into the living room, dressed and —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — ready to...sit back down on the couch. A soft sigh left the brunette as she put down the garbage bag and moved to the couch —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — once more. Crossing her hands over her chest, she stood in front of the male, her eyebrows quirked at his form.] Are you —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — seriously going to wallow her for the rest of your life? [She wasn't trying to be mean, nor did she want to. But she knew —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — that Ian needed to get out of this. He didn't deserve to be treated like this. He deserved so much more than what he'd ever —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — had or ever gotten but, if he wallowed here, he'd never get to what he deserved, never achieve what he deserved. A soft —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — sigh left her once more as she uncrossed her arms and knelt in front of him. She reached for his hands and held them in her —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — own.] Ian, come on, hon. You really can't do this forever.

(Ian Somerhalder.) [A soft sigh left the brunette's lips as she watched him. The struggle was very evident in his expression. The pain was —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — equally evident, if not more so. Giving his hands a gentle squeeze, she smiled a soft smile.] Well, the fact that I know —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — you pretty well was one thing. Plus, you weren't answering calls, texts... [With a shrug of her shoulders, she let out a —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — soft breath.] Plus, none of your guys had heard from you, Ian. They were worried, I was worried. So I figured I'd barge in —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — and check on you. Which, in retrospect, was a brilliant idea, considering what I walked in on.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Stephstiel Dollwood. I FUCKING LOVE YOU OKAY? OKAY.

(Ian Somerhalder.) [A grin had formed on the brunette's features at his words. She could read his expressions as clear as day, though she wasn't going to acknowledge what he was trying to say. They'd developed their own language by now. She didn't need to acknowledge that she heard —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — what he hadn't said. He knew, just like he knew she reciprocated his sentiments completely] Are you saying you're actually willing to step out of this dump, Somerhalder? [With raised eyebrows, she flashed him a teasing smirk. What she wanted, more than —

(Ian Somerhalder.) — anything, was to get him up and out of the house, back to his usual routine.] We could go get some Chinese at that place you really like. I would've said we could go get a few drinks but you've maxed out for the month, at the very least.