It's not an original idea. Two broken souls attempting to fix themselves and each other; failing, and hurting everyone in the process – themselves, Ric, Bonnie…Stefan. They were not an original idea, in all of their tortured brokenness; it was a story that she had heard a million times before. One that she had craved; the desire to find a love that was worth that consumed her, that was full of passion and adventure and even a little danger; she just happened to find that love in the piercing blue eyes of the wrong brother. And the funny thing is that if she had paid attention then she would have realised that that is not an original idea either.
Elena Gilbert was not that drunk. Or at least that was what she told the concerned girl she tripped over on her way out of the Lockwood mansion. Stumbling out and away from the pulsating beat of the loud generic dance track that was causing her head to spin. It was cold outside, not that it was surprising for that to be the case given it was November and the skimpy scrap of black fabric that Caroline had forced her in to earlier in the evening clinging to her wafe-like figure was not made for the harsh chills of half-past late o'clock. She clutched her arms about herself in a vain attempt to keep warm. It didn't really work. She should have gone back in, she knew, but she flopped down on the sidewalk anyway. She didn't even consciously register getting her cell phone out; one minute she was starring up at the stars and the next it was pressed to her ear, already ringing. She would have been lying to say she didn't know whom she was calling. He answered on the fifth ring.
"Hello?" his voice alone sent warm tingles through her trembling body. She smiled contentedly to herself,
"Tell me something about you that nobody knows." She said,
"Elena?" he asked in response,
"Damon?" She replied playfully,
"Are you drunk, Elena?" He asked, sounding somewhere between concerned and amused,
"So what if i am? I still want to know, so come on, or tell me something secret. Something no one should know, I don't care what, just tell me something."
There was a long pause before he spoke,
"What do you want to know?" She grinned triumphantly,
"Tell me about your mother?" she asked, and he just sighed on the other end of the line, pausing as if debating whether or not you should divulge that information to her. She waited patiently for him to answer,
"She died when I was about seven. She was such a light and happy person; so passionate and good - she made my father happy but when she died, that died with her. My father blamed me and Stef; never let us forget it either, and then we became the thing he hated.."
Elena didn't respond for a long moment, and for a second he worried that maybe she'd passed out,
"It wasn't your fault, Damon." She said softly, and she can pretty much hear him smiling sadly on the other side of the line, "You didn't kill your mother."
Damon chuckled humourlessly,
"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter now, does it." She laughed lightly, pushing up off of the pavement because her legs were starting to cramp. She stumbled slightly in her tall heels before regaining her near to non-existent composure, but a small squeal escaped her lips none the less. Damon didn't miss it,
"Elena?"
"I wish you'd tell me things like this more often." She said quietly, sadly almost, because it did make her so damn sad, "I wish you'd let me in, let me and everyone else see the good in you."
Damon chuckled gently and it was that chuckle that sent vibrations through his chest in a soft sort of rumbling way,
"Where are you, Elena? Are you at home?"
"No, I'm," She paused while thinking where she was for a second, "I'm a Tyler's. Well, outside Tyler's, he's having a party and it was just too loud in there."
Damon sighed on the other end of the phone.
"You're drunk, Elena, and I can't have you wandering around this town drunk, not with the amount of danger your prone to attracting."
"I really am fine, Damon. Jer is inside but I was planning on crashing at Bonnie's with her and Care. I'm fine, though. I just wanted to talk to you, tell you that I do care... despite how much easier it would be if I didn't." She confessed quietly. And she can tell that he's shaking his head,
"I'm already in my car. We can talk about this later." She sighed and told him that he was being dramatic but gave in any way, Damon could be stubborn and she was too tired to argue,
"Don't move. I'll be as quick as I can."
She was still sat on the side of the road playing with the hem of her dress when that damn car of his rounded the corner. Damon's light blue camero pulled to a stop beside her and he climbed out of the car, coming around the side of the car. He folded his arms and fixed her with a look she hadn't seen since Georgia, but he didn't say anything, just held out one hand to her up. One hand circling her waist to steady her, lingering slightly on her hip, grasping slightly at the flimsy material.
"You're freezing, Lena." He muttered, hand coming up to brush a stray curl out of her eyes. She smiled dopily at him, nestling her head into his chest.
"Why do you always have to smell so fucking good?" She mumbled, and he laughed easily,
"Can you walk or…?"
"I'm fine." She said, pulling away and taking a step towards the car. She stumbled and secretly thanked God that he and his vampire speed was there to catch her,
"Okay, baby, I've got you." He said, and before she could protest he had scooped her into his arms and was carrying her towards the passengers seat.
"Where are we going?" She asked once they were both sat in the car and he was pulling away from the curb.
"Boarding House,"
She tried not to react to that, but the truth was the thought of that both terrified and thrilled her. She had avoided the Boarding House as much as humanly possible in the months since Stefan had left and hadn't crashed their since. She silently dreaded the idea that he would make her sleep in Stefan's room.
They sat in a contented silence for about five minutes before they pulled to a stop in the drive. He cut the engine and climbed out before speeding round to the passengers side and opening the door for her. He didn't bother to ask, instead just picked her up, shutting the door with his foot. He opened the door without even shifting her somehow, shutting it quietly with his feet and then carrying her upstairs. She closed her eyes and nuzzled into his broad chest, the steady beat of his heart soothing her. She opened her eyes again once he set her down, surprised but not at all displeased that she was in his room, on his bed. She sat up and smiled sleepily at him,
"Thank you for this, Damon." She whispered, and he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead,
"Don't worry about it, Lena." He said, before standing up and heading towards his chest of drawers, pulling out one of his shirts and handing it to her,
"You can get changed in here, I'll go get you some water." He said before disappearing out of the room. Elena kicked her heels off and slid out of the dress she was wearing before tugging on Damon's shirt. She tugged her hair up out of her face and into a messy bun before almost subconsciously clambering into the double bed in the centre of the room.
Damon walked back in and she peered over the bed sheets surreptitiously before noticing that he had removed his shirt and Elena's breath hitched in her throat at the sight of his chiseled chest and her mind began to wonder to thoughts of how it would feel under her finger tips, her tongue... He smiled at the sight of her curled up in her bed, cursing himself for thinking about how much he would love to see her like this all the time. He set the water down on the bedside table and sat on the side of the bed, biting into his wrist and then offering it to Elena. She raised her eyebrows at him and gave him a questioning look,
"It's just going to help you sober up, calm down." Elena nodded and quickly drank from Damon's wrist, trying to ignore the eroticism of it. Suddenly Damon pulled his wrist away gently, looking almost pained, and giving her one more look then headed for the door,
"I'll crash on the couch," he muttered, but she sat up quickly at this, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back,
"Stay," she muttered, he hesitated and she could see a desperate longing and pain in his crystal clear eyes as well as a hunger, "Damon, please don't leave me."
He sighed and walked round to the other side of the bed, sliding between the sheets. A more sober Elena would have stayed firmly on her side of the bed at this point, however drunk Elena felt no such boundaries. She slid over and curled into his side, moulding her body against his, legs tangling. His arm circled her shoulders and pulled her closer. She leaned up and looked at him with wide eyes, marvelling at just how right this felt. At how this man who she had once hated, a man who she had broken and hurt and repeatedly used was still there, still protecting her and loving her, despite it all. He was there. He had never left. He had done some bad things in his lifetime, but since meeting her they became less and less; lately it was all for her. Everything he did was for her and she loved him for it. Elena Gilbert loved him for it.
"Damon," She whispered, before leaning up and lightly brushing her lips against his. It was soft and gentle and perfect and sweet, and he leant further into her, arms tugging her closer still as her little hands fisted in his hair as she twisted herself on top of him and his hand drifted tentatively towards her bum, his tongue slipping out and seeking entrance. When they finally broke apart their bodies are tangled and she couldn't help but think it represented them now; tangled together. Pandora's box had been opened and there was nothing that they could do except kiss again. As his hand slid inside the shirt she was wearing he gave up any shred of pretence that he only saw her as his brothers girl. That he cared about the five-year age gap. That he wasn't completely in love with her, and she shed the pretence that none of it meant anything to her. That they were 'just friends', that she only saw him as her boyfriends brother, that she even viewed Stefan in that way any more. That she wasn't entirely in love with him.