[ she's not expecting it - the embrace, to be held. she accepts it mutely at first, bends into it because of his strength and height. her eyes are open over his shoulder, her arms lifting and palms hovering over his shoulders with some hesitation. she tries to blink away whatever tears are in her eyes, feels one drop and smear into her bottom lashes. (she's not doing a very good job of stopping.)
he's ready, and she's here, and it feels selfish to feel nothing but relief; elena gilbert holds on tightly to the people she loves. she's happy, bittersweet and wrong. her eyes slip closed and her hands commit to touching him; her arms follow and curl around his neck as she pushes herself up on her toes, presses her cheek into the crook of his shoulder. ]