She didn't love him. Not at all. At least that's what she told herself. He was much too complicated and unpredictable. Things weren't simple with him. They fought like divorced parents, their words in the heat of the moment permanently scaring each other. Of all the things she detested about him there was one thing in particular that she hated most of all. The worst thing of all was he made her feel. Around him her body was on fire, every nerve ending standing at attention, waiting for him. She was always waiting. Waiting for him to yell, to do something rash, to kiss her up against a wall and then walk away. He made her think about her parents and all the hurt that had been thrust upon her since their passing. He picked at old wounds until she was raw and bleeding, but then pieced her back together again until she was whole. One second he made her so angry and the next fall irrecoverably in love with him. His love consumed her whole.

"I love you."

She tried it out for size in the darkest hours of the night. "I love YOU."

The words had passed from her lips at least a thousand times, yet when she said it to him she stumbled over the words like a child trying to pronounce a new word. She imagined his face when he said it. The way his dark blue eyes would stare at her in disbelief and confusion. She'd explain it. Give him a speech on how much he meant to her and to help him understand she would say it again, pressing in closer bringing her shaking hand to his defined cheekbones. For once she would surprise him. His mouth would gape open and she'd run her thumb over his bottom lip. He would lower his head to hers until there was only mere inches between them, their breaths mixing with every heavy exhale.

"Really?"

"Really."

And then they'd collide, assaulting each other's lips, exploring each other with fiery fingertips until they lost sight of everything other than each other. On those nights she slept the best, his essence surrounding her and when she awoke she could swear that there was an indent in her bed the size of his body and sheets that smelled distinctly of him.

It was hard for her to be around him. Could he hear her heart racing? Could he feel her temperature increase? In retrospect it was probably a bad idea to go to his house after school, but she had stopped thinking rationally quite a while ago.

"Elena are you okay?"

Her eyes guilty tore themselves away from his plump lips. How desperate could she get? How much longer could she keep denying herself what she truly wanted?

"Of course. Just tired."

"Something keeping you up." he asked nonchalantly.

You, she wanted to say. You're everywhere. You're all consuming. But instead she played it off, like she always did.

"Just restless sleep."

"Bad dreams?" His face one of instant concern.

She blushed slightly.

"Dreams." she admitted "But not bad ones."

A cocky smirk splayed across his face.

"And who might these dreams be about?"

Her blush grew crimson red, flushing her ears with warmth. I can't let him know.

"Stefan" she said panicking, the first name she could think off spewing out of her mouth like word vomit.

"Oh." His face crumpled, his beautiful eyes filling with sadness. "I uh didn't know it was like that again."

Damn it. What was she thinking? The next thing she knew it was one snarky comment after the next as he built up the wall again. She cursed herself over and over and as she laid in bed that night the words "I'm sorry" tumbled out of her mouth until the breeze filtering through her windows dried her tear stained cheeks.

The days that followed were madness. She couldn't sit still. She started writing, running, even painting. A stack of college applications teetered precariously on her desk and every time she looked at them she laughed inwardly. In the last year she hadn't even considered continuing school, but the option was becoming more appealing. Damon changed the way she saw things. He made her want to do more than just live a normal life. Why was she so scared to tell him? Why was she so scared of what could be?

When she called him, her voice choked with unshed tears he was there. One snarky comment,

"Isn't this what Matt or Stefan are for," before settling down next to her without another word. It was so easy with him and yet at the same time so hard. Enough was enough she finally decided, steeling herself to finally admit how she felt. There was only so much torture one person could take before it was too much. And that was how she arrived at his doorstep in the middle of the night, her heart racing faster and faster with each passing second. Her trembling finger hit the doorbell and she fought every instinct to run. He opened the door slowly, his normally perfect hair tousled in such a way that she was sure her mouth dropped open. He looked confused and just as he opened his mouth to say something she beat him to it. It was now or never.

"I love you." Simple. Direct. Precise. She turned her eyes to his face and watched as he blinked several times, before a wisp of a smile appeared on his face.

"I know."

No practiced speech. No uncertainty. No confusion. He knew. In the moment she realized that he knew all along. Before she had even registered the fact herself. He knew and he had waited. She looked up at him with heavy lidded eyes and he gazed at her with intensity that she didn't even know a person could posses. She took a step closer.

"I. Love. You."

He bent his head down, inhaling her. She licked her lips. She didn't know how much longer she could take the anticipation. With just a look he set her body on fire like no one else.

"Elena?" His voice was hoarse, almost a whisper.

"Yes." She was surprised any sound came out at all considering she was pretty sure she had stopped breathing.

"I love you."

Suddenly his hands were on her, frantic as if memorizing every curve, every crease of her skin. She assaulted his lips and he met her advances with every ounce of desire. The passion that was welled up for months came pouring out until she was left grasping for breath. He rested his forehead against hers, smirking at her in full Damon style.

"What?" she questioned.

"I told you so." His grin grew even wider.

"What are you talking about?"

"The night on the porch when you told me it wasn't right. And I told you.."

"That it was right, but just not yet." She broke into a grin.

"So admit it."

"No way in hell." Damon's ego was large enough, she didn't need to inflate it lowered his lips to the crook of her neck, peppering it with hot kisses.

"Admit it." He practically growled sending shivers down her spine.

There was no way she could resist him. "You were right." she sighed and he chuckled that hearty laugh that made her word fit into place. And he was.