[Rebekah hates Niklaus as much as she loves him -- that's always been her problem. No matter how awful he is, he's her brother, and after going weeks here in Marina thinking he was dead -- gone forever -- it's harder to hold on.
But right now, she's not thinking of her brother. She's not thinking of anything except how Stefan's lips feel against hers. She spent ninety years in a coffin, for her, their time together wasn't that long ago. It's fresher, making the familiarity easy to give into in the moment.
Her other hand rests on his chest, fingers curling around the material of his shirt. There had always been a rush being with Stefan back then, he was dangerous, like she was. It was always part of the appeal.]