100 songs: The concept is simple, you take 100 songs, you tell 100 fragments of a story, each to the song in question. The only catch? You only have the length of the song to write the story.

So on with the show. And for the record? I don't own the Vampire Diaries.

Talk - Ross Copperman

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He was only waiting because he had to. She had told him to hold on – to wait for her, because she would come back. She had to come back.

He was alone. Lonely, scared, silent, and filled with a million words which held no logic whatsoever, because he was alone, and she was gone, and he wanted her back because he could barely hold it all in. Because he was cold, frightened and alone, like a child, lost to their parents.

Only she was not his mother. She was nowhere near as cruel.

"H-hello?" A voice, heavy from lack of use, stuttering because he's still scared. Scared it won't be her.

"I don't have keys." She said simply, "And I know you're at home. Baby, answer the door."

There was a moment of pure tableau, his face a picture of shock, excitement and genuine relief. Then he was on his feet, pounding creaking floorboards, tripping over shag-pile rugs, just so that he could open the door to her, so he could hold her again. So that the dull ache that laid heavy in his stomach would just go away.

He groaned as the door swung open, and with it, a wave of his scent swam in to tilt him off balance.

"Bonnie," And he buried his face in her hair, breathing her in as she almost flattened him, jumping into his arms, "I know."