Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction, just a Delena drabble that I found while sorting through my documents, set sometime during season 3 but before the whole Evilaric ordeal :) Enjoy!

The sound of heavy, harsh rain shattered the serene atmosphere she had created. Her calm bubble, destroyed. Her thoughts dissipated into the vacuum of reality. Her brow creased in displeasure as she steepled her pointer fingers, then ran a olive-skinned hand through her messy chocolate-brown hair.

Elena stood and wandered absently over to the fireplace to stoke the now softly glowing embers of the once roaring fire that burned when she entered her mind; her bare feet gently scuffing the antique-rugged floor of the parlor of the once esteemed Salvatore Boardinghouse, now home to the frequent and infrequent comings and goings of her friends, enemies and various others that had resided there - for however short a time.

Though just now the enormous residence had only her as an occupant; only her and the relentless rain to keep its elegantly hulking mass of dark corners and unused rooms company.

Elena then noticed the dark skies, though she was sure that it had been at least an overcast noon when she had started trying to sort through her many thoughts. Momentarily she distracted herself with checking the time - 6:17. She exhaled slowly - Damon would be back soon. He was tending to dealings with Klaus, and promised her to be home by seven. She tugged on the hem of her plum camisole and smoothed down her black fatpants, hands detouring once again to the softly tumbling waves that were her mahogany tresses, pulling them into a loose high ponytail.

A flash interrupted her thoughts, and a draught caressed her bare arms; reminding her that just outside a fierce storm was brewing. She hoped Damon didn't get caught in it, as she didn't exactly want to spend the night alone - with Stefan out of town with Bonnie, Caroline rejoicing with Tyler over his breakthrough with Klaus' sirebond, and Jeremy and Matt having some much needed chill-time; she had no-one else to hang with, and she hated thunderstorms - though she would never admit it to anyone, especially not Damon.

She headed up the stairs to grab something warmer, and started heading to Stefan's room for one of her jumpers she left here when they had frequent sleepovers back before Klaus, when something made her not want to encroach on the memories that came with entering his room - of times when everything was fine and dandy and she wasn't fighting for her life every single day. That same something turned her - almost without realising - towards Damon's room to grab one of his jumpers. Her feet carried her across the floorboards and deposited her in front of his armoire, and before she knew what she was doing, she had a close-knit black woolen jumper that smelt comfortingly of Damon in her hands. She shrugged it over her head and was immediately enveloped in his unique scent - bourbon, the musky scent that all men had and something she couldn't quite place, but it lulled her into a sense of security, so she didn't question it any further.

She headed back down the stairs and sat down on the rug in front of the fireplace, stretching out her legs to warm her cold feet. She leaned back on the palms of her hands and tipped her head backwards, eyes closing. The warmth of the fire tickled the soles of her feet and the flames cast strange orange shadows on her eyelids; and soon she was in her own little world again. If only Damon was here, he would warm her up faster than any fire.

And she was dreaming...

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of a door closing. She was lying on the floor in front of the fire - now glowing embers again - with her arms splayed out beside her and bits of hair falling over her face. Soft footsteps entered the room and leather boots came to rest by her head. Damon.

'Hey. How'd it go?' she asked, still in a half dream state. He had crouched down and scooped her up in his arms, and her head fell against his warm, hard chest; slightly damp, but she didn't mind. He was here.

'It went fine, how're you doing? Sleepy, by the look of it.' There was his ever-present smirk colouring his velvety voice as he laid her down on the couch, taking off his leather jacket and claiming the space next to her.

'I'm alright. Just a bit lonely, but not now.' She smiled as she settled into him again. He pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it over her shoulders. There was another flash and the rumble of thunder, this time sounding close to the house. Elena jumped, then buried her face in Damon's shoulder blade, the emotional fatigue of the day getting to her.

'I take it someone doesn't like thunderstorms?' He stroked her hair and tried to get her to look up at him, a long finger gently tilting her chin upwards.

'Not exactly. They unnerve me.' she mumbled. He noticed she was wearing one of his jumpers and smiled softly - she could deny it all she wanted, but she needed him. She cared.

'May I ask what you're doing raiding my wardrobe and wearing my clothes? I know I have great style, but seriously...' He broke off when she hit him lightly on the chest, her palm colliding with a triangle of smooth, pale skin, warm to the touch and silky soft.

'I was cold, and...' She sighed. 'I missed you. Happy?' Her eyes were playful now, as sleepy as she was.

'Very.' He smiled down at her, his knuckled softly grazing her cheek when her eyes fluttered shut. 'Better get you into bed, huh?' He scooped her up and headed up the stairs to Stefan's room to deposit her in his bed.

'No, what are you doing? I don't like this room, don't leave me here, Damon!' Her outburst in her sleepy, worried voice pulled him back down the hall to his room, where he set her down in between his high thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets and headed over to light the fire. The storm continued brewing outside his window and he drew the curtains, quickly muffling the harsh tapping of the rain against the window pane.

'I'm going to have a shower now, then I'm gonna head downstairs and sleep on the couch, okay?' He leant over her and stroked her cheek with his thumb. Her eyes fluttered open again and took his hand in hers.

'Don't go, Damon. You don't have to leave, this is your room. Stay here, I don't want to be alone,' She sounded almost helpless as she clutched his hand to her. 'You can sleep with me, I don't mind, just don't leave me, Damon. Not now.' Her eyes overflowed and a single tear rolled down her cheek, a result of the emotional stress she had been sorting through earlier getting to her.

'Okay, Lena. I'm just having a shower and I'll be here. Don't worry I'm just around the corner, you'll be fine, okay?' She nodded, exhausted.

The shower started running and once she heard him humming contentedly, she got out of bed and shrugged out of her fatpants and his jumper, exchanging it for one of his v-neck tees that he loved so much. She then climbed back into bed, now happy with her choice of clothing.

She had almost drifted off when he returned, and she couldn't open her eyes more than a tiny fraction so was only aware of him once the bed beside her dipped with his weight. He chuckled when he saw what she was now wearing - her love of nicking his clothes was something he could deal with later. He shuffled over to her, and she suddenly was engulfed in his warm embrace, her cheek now resting on his bare skin as he always slept shirtless. She hummed with pleasure and rubbed her cheek against him.

'Thank you.'

He pulled the covers up around them both and kissed her gently on the forehead.

'Any time, my princess. Sweet dreams.'

She sunk into a deep sleep, and the last thing she remembered was his arms protecting her from all danger.

Reviews are love! Thanks xx

-M