For a man so intimately acquainted with death, there were certain losses that Stefan Salvatore had a hard time accepting. His beloved mother, Mary, had been one of them, and she'd been gone for more than a century and a half. Another one of those was Lexi. Alexia Branson, who had saved his life, saved him from himself. Who would, and had, dropped everything in her life to be by his side when he needed her, simply because he needed her, expecting nothing in return. He'd been so busy with one thing after another that he hadn't really had a lot of time to process the fact that she was absolutely, positively gone and that the next time he needed someone to save him from himself, she wouldn't be the one to take his shouting and abuse and all the hate that he really felt for himself but was projecting onto her. It was easier to file that hurt away than to deal with it, especially when there were things like Originals and Silas and Elena becoming a vampire to take precedent.
He couldn't run from it forever, though. And when he opened the door to the room he'd secured for himself (at least for a few days) and saw her there, concern and worry hiding behind the flirty, playful smile and flashing eyes, Stefan's resolve crumbled. His face screwed up, just for a moment, and then he was pulling her in for a hug.
"You, Miss Lexi, are not allowed to die on me. Not ever again."