A/N: Alright-y! So, new VD was amazing. So...much...Delena...goodness. If you haven't seen it, maaajor spoilers ahead!

I decided to write a fic based on one (amazing) scene that I have watched multiple times since. It's just what I envisioned happening after we left Damon and Elena in the bathroom doing the vampire-dirty. At least, that's what it felt like to me. So guys, read, enjoy and don't hesitate to drop me a review.

Disclaimer; Still not mine. I've said this at least three times now.

Apologies for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes. And for my abysmal writing.

Closer.

She didn't know why, didn't know what made her feel it quite so strongly, but she couldn't get past the need to be closer.

So she rolled with it and let her head fall to his shoulder, her fingers clutching his hand and his arm, holding him close to her. She could feel his breathy little sighs and gasps against her hair and his hand came up to cup the back of her head, cradling her gently against him. She pushed harder. Closer.

She felt him stumble back and crash into the wall, and she went with him, and this time, when she pushed herself against him, he didn't yield to the pressure. His muscles were an odd mixture of way-to-tense and gelatinous beneath her. But it wasn't enough. She had the unnerving sensation of wanting to be inside someone else's skin. His skin.

So she pushed harder again. She knew she seemed desperate, damn near writhing against him, but at that point she no longer cared.

She let out a whimpering moan and withdrew her teeth, only to pierce the skin again in a different place and draw more blood from the wound. His breath caught in his throat behind her and she couldn't help the smile the spread against his palm. He choked out a groan and dug his fingers into her hair. She felt him adjust his feet on the floor, raising him higher against the wall before dropping back down to the same level. A mewl escaped the back of her throat before she had time to censor it, and she bit a little harder into his hand to stifle more noise.

"Elena." He whispered, and she drove harder against his body with her hip. That need to be closer was back with a vengeance and it was so intense it hurt. "Elena, you," he groaned, but forced himself to continue, "You need to stop."

And the world came back into perfect clarity. She released his hand first from her teeth, then from her white-knuckled fingers, and stepped back. What she hadn't expected was for his knees to give way beneath him. He sunk to the floor, and for the first time she noticed not only had he been gasping, but he was panting. And pale. So, so pale. Oh God.

"Damon?" She asked, feeling her stomach curdle unpleasantly as she watched him try to catch his breath. He waved his unmarred hand at her to brush her off, but his skin had taken on a grey tinge that made her worry ratchet up a level or two.

"Fine." He gasped.

"No. I-I'm sorry." She whispered, dropping down beside him. "I'm sorry." She brought her wrist up to her teeth, but he wrapped his fingers around it and pulled it away, shaking his head.

"I'm fine. Are you okay?" He wheezed.

She nodded, eyes wide as she watched him force himself shakily to his feet. She stood, too, ready to catch him if he fell again. She owed him that much, after all the times he'd done the same for her. He swayed a little and she grabbed the sleeve of his jacket as though it would solve all of his problems, but he steadied himself without her aid and walked to the sink to splash some water on his face. He inspected himself through narrowed eyes in the mirror.

"Well," He said, "Don't I look a pretty little picture."

Elena smiled a small, unsteady smile and walked to his side. She was struck once again by an urge that she couldn't quite place, but acted on instinct and leant against him, letting her forehead fall against his temple. He closed his eyes and pushed back gently, replying to the silent message she was trying to send him. I am so sorry.

"You did good." He says finally, lifting his head away from hers and turning to look at her. She turned to look at his reflection in the mirror.

"I nearly drained you. If you'd been human..." She shuddered. Damon shook his head.

"You stopped when I told you to. That's progress."

She scoffed and folded her arms. "Doesn't feel like it."

He took her shoulders in his hands and twisted her body to face him, looking at her sternly.

"If you beat yourself up over every little thing, you're never going to get through this. This is exactly why Stefan is so worried about you going on human blood. Has he told you that?"

Elena shook her head.

"Well there it is. He's scared. He's trying to change who you are because he's scared of what you could be."

Damon stepped away, then, heading for the door. He glanced at her, and at the look of puzzlement and concern on her face, and decided it was worth trying to lighten the mood.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I think its lunch time. Feeling a little...famished." He grinned at her, unlocking the door and resting a hand over his stomach. "Italian take-out, you in?"

She smacked his shoulder, hard, as she brushed past him, but smiled and replied.

"No thanks, I just ate in."

Damon's answering laugh was infectious. They walked together to his seat at the bar, and he surveyed the room as though perusing a menu. He turned to Elena with a lopsided smile, gesturing to a booth in the corner of the room where a gaggle of slim, blonde girls were whispering behind their hands to one another, eyeing Damon through lowered lids and fake lashes.

He grinned wolfishly and said with a kind of satisfaction that made Elena want to fume, laugh, cry, and something else she didn't care to dwell on, all at once.

"Table three looks good."

A/N: Boom! Done and done. I know its short and, well...not very good, but I liked the idea, so I've uploaded it anyway.

Please please please drop me a review! And to anyone reading 'A Proper Goodbye' I am still writing the next chapter. It's half-term next week, so I promise I'll try and get more done then, if not before hand!

Thanks all.

Much love,

Someone x