I do not own TVD or TO.
I saw these text starters on tumblr that inspired this glorious little one shot, which when I wrote it had nothing to do with text messages. Anyhoo I hope you enjoy my fun little foray back into oneshots.
"Another!"
Elena slammed down the shot glass in front of the bartender with a grunt. She was on her fourth shot, or maybe it was her fifth. She didn't care anymore because it didn't matter.
"You've had a lot," Matt sighed. "That's six shots on an empty stomach."
Elena lurched over the bar and swiped at the bowl of peanuts; half of them fell to scatter over the marble. She hooked her heels around the stool to keep from falling over and made a show of shoving a small handful in her mouth.
"Happy now?" Her eyes were slightly unfocused. "I just found out my boyfriend of six years has been cheating on me for at least five of them. I want another drink."
Matt ran his hand back through his hair before holding it out to her.
"Just put it on my tab, Matt," Elena waved him away.
"Not that," he shook his head. "Give me your keys. If you're determined to get shit-face drunk then I'm going to hold on to your keys."
"If you take my keys you leave the bottle," she picked up her purse.
Elena started rifling through it before cursing and just dumping the contents on the bar.
"Jeez, Elena," Matt caught a tube of lipstick and a box of condoms, "how can you fit so much stuff in such a tiny purse?" He turned over the lipstick. "This doesn't look like your colour."
"It's a vibrator," Elena blinked at the bar before lifting her keys triumphantly.
"Do I want to know why you're carrying that around?" Matt sat the tube down with a suppressed grimace and just held in his shudder.
"It's discreet," Elena passed him the keys. She frowned when she realized what she was saying. "I think I'm truth serum drunk, Matty," she giggled. "I bought that when he stopped satisfying me. I don't know if the condoms are any good anymore." She pursed her lips and squinted at the tiny print.
"I beg of you stop talking," Matt pocketed her keys and placed a bottle of tequila in front of her. He took a second to make sure it was a nearly empty bottle before leaving her to sort out the contents of her purse.
Elena's hand shook as she poured a shot. Some of the liquid splashed out of the glass and onto the condom box. With a great sigh she piled everything into her sleek black clutch until all that remained was her cell phone.
She downed the new glass and closed her eyes against the burn as the liquid fire moved through her esophagus into her stomach.
She gave six years of her life to that man. Six years were spent at his side. She didn't go away to college because Whitmore was close to him. She didn't take the Johns Hopkins residency because he was in Mystic Falls and he wanted to stay in Mystic Falls, and more importantly he wanted her to stay in Mystic Falls where the hospital had a lackluster surgery program at best.
She gave up everything because she had loved him, and what did he do? He slept with her best friend. He slept with her sister. And probably a whole slew of other women she didn't know about.
She hated him.
Her entire being hated him. The alcohol only served as fuel for her rage.
She had planned on getting very drunk and then moving on, but she had left the house in a rage. The house she shared with him.
What else could she do when she found him screwing ex-best friend in their bed?
The realization that she had nowhere to go made her even angrier. Her vision was little more than a red haze when she reached for her phone.
The first thing she had done when she left the house was to delete his contact information, but luckily she knew the house number by memory.
She grinned to herself while squinting at the phone and punching the buttons. She had some things to say to him and it didn't matter that it was three in the morning.
The phone seemed to ring forever before finally connecting. A gruff hello was all the man got out before she launched into the drunken speech her hazy brain had conjured up.
Unfortunately it pretty much boiled down to tears and shouted questions.
"How could you? You bastard! In our bed?"
Her shrieking drew the attention of Matt. The bartender immediately came running out of the kitchen and towards the empty bar where his high school sweetheart was making some very colourful threats involving a scalpel and a man's cheating dick.
"I'll take that," he pulled the phone from her hand and pressed it to his ear.
"Give it back," Elena's words slurred together. She stood to reach for the phone and teetered on her heels. "I'm not done."
"I think you are," Matt used one hand to push her back onto the stool.
"Hello?"
Matt turned his attention to the voice coming through the speaker. Elena in her drunkenness had placed the call on speaker phone.
"You're not Damon," Matt tapped the corner of the screen and sighed when he saw the caller ID.
"No, I am not."
"Give me back my phone," Elena huffed. In the cloud of bubbles popping in her head she didn't hear the other voice.
"I'm not giving you the phone. The last thing we need is you calling another wrong number and threatening whoever picks up." Matt held her on the stool until he was sure she wasn't going to move. "I'm gonna call a cab to take you home."
"Home," she blew out a rush of air and leaned on her elbow. "I have no home," her cheek missed her hand. Her head was halfway to the counter when she overcorrected and jerked back up.
"Matt?"
"Yeah?"
"Is she at the Grill?"
"Yes," Matt sighed. "She's been here since dinner, and has taken in half a bottle of tequila. Elena!"
He reached out and grabbed the liquor when the brunette swiped at it.
"Hey," she pouted; her phone call forgotten for the time being. "That's mine."
"Keep her there, Matt. I'll be right over."
Matt wrestled the bottle from her hand and hid it behind the counter as the call disconnected.
He was certain his hair was sticking up in every direction but he couldn't bring himself to care. It was three in the morning. He generally stopped caring about his appearance after midnight.
With a sigh he put the car in park and stepped out into the freezing air. He was lamenting his decision not to grab a warmer jacket when he stepped into the nearly empty bar. Only one patron remained with her head down on the counter.
He slid up to the bar and braced his elbow on the high counter.
"Elena," he placed his free hand on her shoulder, "it's time to go home."
"I don't have a home," she mumbled into her arms.
"Okay it's time to go to bed," he tried again.
"Is that a line cause it's really bad," she turned her head around so her flushed cheek was lying on her arm.
"Not a line," his eyes fell to the tip of her red nose.
Elena squinted up at his tousled dark hair and sharp stubble.
"I know you," her arm came up quickly.
"Yes you do," he caught her hand before she could poke his eye, "and I'm going to take you home now."
She shook her head and pouted.
"I don't want to go. Matt has tequila."
"Matt has also cut you off," Matt called from the other side of the bar. He reached into his pocket and extracted a set of keys from his pocket. He placed the keys on the counter and nodded to the inebriated brunette. "Get her out of here and put her in a bed."
"That's the plan," he sighed. "Are you coming or do I have to carry you?"
Elena giggled and stood up when he pulled her to her feet. Her knees were like water though.
He caught her when she fell against his chest with more drunken giggles.
"My feet don't work," she covered her mouth with her hand.
"Too much tequila I'm betting," he rolled his eyes before bending and lifting her over his shoulder. "Purse?" He held out his free hand to Matt before carrying his giggling burden through the front door.
Elena couldn't stop her giggling. She swayed gently in his arms all the way to car and giggled with every step.
"You have a very nice behind," she squeezed the denim clad flesh.
"Thank you," he just managed to hold back his laugh. "Yours isn't so bad either."
"Have you been ogling my bum?" She gasped dramatically and playfully slapped him.
It was mostly the knowledge that she was unlikely to remember any of this in the morning that had him answering honestly.
"Every chance I get," he carefully placed her in the passenger seat.
Elena frowned when he fastened her belt.
"That's not much. You haven't even seen me in…"
"It's been awhile," he admitted.
"Then you're not well acquainted," she twisted in her seat.
"You stay still," he stilled her hips.
Elena's blouse had ridden up exposing a few inches of bare skin and the moment he touched her fire lit in her belly that had nothing to do with the alcohol.
"But you haven't seen my butt," she giggled and squirmed.
"I'm sure I'll get a chance when you're walking out the door tomorrow."
"Promise you'll look?" She pouted and met his eyes.
"I give you my word," he smirked. "Now sit still."
"Yes, sir," she nodded with the most serious face she could muster. But in her state serious was not possible. Her lips were curled in a brilliant grin. Elena waited until he was in the driver's seat and they were halfway across town.
"I don't like being told what to do unless I'm naked." Her hand reached over and landed on his thigh.
He shivered at the heat that spread across his skin.
"Elena," his voice was strangled. Her delicate fingers slid up his inner thigh and started working his zipper with surprising dexterity.
"Yes," she bit her bottom lip. Her fingers slipped into his boxer briefs.
"Fuck," he hissed when she closed around him. The fact that it was Elena, the woman he had been in love with for years, handling him had him rising to attention in record time. He had often dreamed of situations like this one, but in his fantasies she was never drunk.
"Stop!" He gritted his teeth and brought one hand from the wheel to grab her wrist.
"But I've got you all worked up," she pouted.
"Elena," he pulled her hand out of his pants, "you're drunk."
"And horny," she smirked.
"I'll tell you what," he replaced her hand in her lap, "why don't you try coming on to me when you're sober?"
She fell back in her seat and tried to cover the sting of his rejection.
"I'll never do that," she crossed her arms and stared out the window.
"Well that hurts," he frowned. "Am I only desirable to you when you're wasted?"
Elena turned towards him and shook her head. Too much tequila made her honest.
"No," her eyes glistened, "I just don't… I'm…" she sighed and blinked back a tear. "I'm braver when I'm drunk."
"Elena," he reached for her hand. He had to disentangle her arms before he could squeeze her fingers.
"It's fine," she sighed, "I really should have known you'd say no. Nobody ever wants me anyway."
"Oh now that's just not true," he steered the car into the driveway. "I've wanted you for years, and the only reason I am saying no now is because you are incredibly drunk."
He let go of her hand to put the car in park and turned to smile at her only to find her sound asleep.
"Figures," he sighed. "The moment I tell you the truth you black out."
He got out of the car, adjusted his pants, and carefully lifted her into his arms.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly and locked on a dark nightstand.
She could feel every beat of her heart as it pounded behind her heavy eyelids. Slowly she rolled over and propped herself up on her elbow. Her hand came up in protest against the sunlight streaming through the lace curtains.
She squinted at the nightstand and found a tall glass of water along with two white tablets. There was a piece of paper taped to the glass that said: 'drink me'."
Her movements were sluggish as she lifted the aspirin to her mouth. She managed just enough of the water to swallow the pills before sitting up and holding her head in her hands.
She took several shallow breaths before standing and staggering towards the dresser. It was only after she had taken a cursory glance at her reflection that she noted the pictures and notes taped to the mirror.
Why's Klaus on my mirror?
She poked the image before her eyes swiveled to a sketch of Caroline.
Why's Caroline on my mirror?
It took her a moment longer than she would have openly admitted to realize that she wasn't in her house, but in her best friend's bedroom. The room Caroline shared with her husband; the wedding photo was sitting on Klaus' side of the bed next to a sketchbook with a half-finished drawing of her sleeping friend. Elena slammed the book shut when she saw it was of the 'not-to-be-seen-by-friends' variety.
A few minutes later the memory of the previous day trickled back in.
She remembered going home from work to find the door unlocked and a persistent thumping coming from upstairs. Against her better judgement she had followed the sound until she could make out the rhythm. Her feet had frozen in the door of her bedroom where Bonnie was holding on the bedpost for dear life while Damon held a fistful of her short hair and pounded into her from behind.
At first she had called Caroline after slamming the door, but the blonde proved impossible to reach on her honeymoon. Rebekah was even harder to get hold of. Then she had called her sister, she and Kat weren't friends by any means but they were sisters; the other girl had laughed into the receiver and said it was a wonder Elena hadn't caught him before since he had been screwing her for years.
That was what had led her to the Grill and the comfort found in a bottle of tequila, but try as she might she couldn't figure out how she had wound up at Klaus and Caroline's house.
She pressed one hand to her head and slowly made her way downstairs. Her bare feet shuffled over the smooth hardwood floor.
The sounds of breakfast being prepared gave her pause. Weren't the happy couple meant to be on their honeymoon? Who was cooking in their kitchen?
"Elijah?" Elena blinked against the glare. The sun was filtering through the windows to reflect against every appliance.
"Elena," he turned around with a smile. "Good morning."
"Is it?" She hoped onto a stool and propped her chin in her hand. "What are you doing here?"
"I had some business in town, and it was here or the mansion." He turned back to the stove. "It's hard staying in that house now."
"I get that," Elena nodded. Elijah's parents and youngest brother had all passed a few years back in an accident. She knew the feeling of ghosts haunting a home. "Klaus gave you a key then."
"He did," Elijah nodded.
Elena watched the rippling muscles in his back as if in a trance. She snapped out of it when he placed a steaming mug of black coffee under her nose.
"Elijah," she inhaled the liquid. "What am I doing here?"
"You had a little too much to drink last night," he slid some food onto a plate and placed the dish in front of her.
Elena couldn't stop her smile when she saw the scrambled eggs and bacon.
"You remembered," she picked up a fork.
"Of course," he plated his own breakfast after shutting off the stove, "how could I forget your hangover food: bacon, eggs, and black coffee?"
Elena lifted a mouthful of eggs and felt her stomach settle a little with the first bite.
"Thank you," she hummed around the food. Elena didn't speak again until her plate was clear and her migraine had been reduced to a minor headache.
"Better?" Elijah took her plate. "I'd have hooked you up to an IV last night, but unfortunately I don't carry medical supplies with me."
"Shame," Elena sighed. "You know you didn't answer my question. What am I doing here? I don't remember drunkenly stumbling in."
"That's because I carried you in," he rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. "Do you remember?"
"I remember…" Elena tilted her head and sighed. Her hands ran back through her hair. "I remember going home and finding Damon with Bonnie."
"In your bed," Elijah nodded.
"How do you know that?" Her eyes narrowed.
"You told me last night."
"I did?" She frowned.
"You did," Elijah nodded. "You drunk dialed me at three in the morning and screamed at me for a good ten minutes about how I cheated on you with Bonnie in your bed, and with Katherine and who knows how many other women."
"He's a regular Casanova," Elena scoffed. Her eyes widened a moment later. "Oh… I yelled at you. I'm so sorry, and I woke you up."
"You also made some colourful threats involving a scalpel and my…" he trailed off as his eyes drifted downwards.
Mortification stained her cheeks vermillion.
"I'm sorry," she covered her hand with her mouth.
"It's alright, Elena," he chuckled.
"That must have been really confusing," she bit her bottom lip.
"It was," he smirked, "but then I realized what was happening and thanked my lucky stars I wasn't Damon and that you had dialed the wrong number. Knowing him he would have pressed charges."
"I guess that's what happens when guys cheat on me," she held her hair back and managed a weak smile. "Let that be far warning to you: never cheat on a surgeon."
"I'd have to be a fool to cheat on you," Elijah's eyes widened when she turned to look at him. He hadn't realized he had spoken aloud until she glanced up.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He nodded. In for a penny in for a pound, and if she didn't have the courage to speak up sober than he would. Objectively he knew his timing could not have been worse, but he had wanted to say these things for years.
"What man in his right mind would cheat on you? You are the most beautiful woman in the world," he met her surprised gaze. "You're smart, funny and kind, and you radiate this warmth that just draws people to you. It's your compassion Elena; it's a gift."
She didn't realize she wasn't breathing until he stopped speaking and she drew in a shaking breath.
"Me?" She held her hand to her heart. "I'm compassionate? The woman who threatened to castrate you?"
"Yes, you," he moved around the counter. "And I do believe the man you actually wanted to threaten deserved it. Also," he smirked, "I'm not overly worried about you castrating me. You seemed quite happy with that particular piece of my anatomy last night."
Elena shifted so she was facing him.
"You're joking…" she paled when he shook his head. Slowly the hazy memory surfaced. "I came on to you."
He nodded slowly.
"You rejected me. That does a lot for a girl's self-esteem," Elena crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head.
"I rejected you because you were drunk," he took a step forward, "not because I didn't want you." He moved until her knees brushed his thighs. He brought his hand down to her leg and met her eyes. "Do you remember me telling you to try again when you were sober?"
Elena's breath hitched as she shook her head. That bit was still hazy.
"Well you did," he brought his other hand up and tucked her hair behind her ear. "And you said: 'I'm braver when I'm drunk'."
"That sounds like me," she exhaled. He was standing close enough now that his breath fanned across her chin and made her light headed. The hands he had on her thigh and in her hair made her skin tingle.
"What are you doing?" Anticipation hummed through her body. His eyes darted to her lips and back up.
"You said you weren't brave enough," his hand slid down to cup her neck, "so I'm meeting you halfway."
"Elijah…" her eyes darted to his lips.
"Elena…" he teased. "Do you want to know the truth? I've wanted to kiss you for years. Since Rebekah came home from school with her new friend. And the only reason," his thumb rubbed small circles over her thigh, "I said no was because of your level of intoxication."
Elena swallowed and took a ragged breath. Every swipe of his thumb made the base of her spine tingle and her abdomen clench.
"Now if the only reason you acted the way you did was because you were drunk, and if I what I am doing is construed as harassment in your mind please tell me now," his tongue darted out to whet his lip, "and I'll back away."
She didn't move for a moment as she took in his words. Rebekah had brought her home ten years ago; she was only 18 at the time. The Mikaelson siblings were like stair steps. Kol and Rebekah were her age, and then came Klaus and Elijah with a gap between Elijah and Finn.
He seemed to take her silence in the opposite way. Damon had done that too many times, but her ex interpreted in the other direction. Where Elijah was taking her silence as a no Damon would have taken it as a yes.
Her hand came up quickly and wrapped around the collar of his t-shirt.
"Elena?"
"Don't talk," she pressed her fingers to his lips, "just kiss me."
"Now that I'll do," a slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
He carefully lowered her hand and leaned forward to brush her lips in a sweet kiss. That made her eyes flutter closed, and for a moment after he pulled back she couldn't open them. That one brush had brought her entire body to attention.
"You can do better than that," she wrapped her arms around his neck and spread her legs so he could step between. Her smile was teasing when she met his eyes.
"I thought we'd start slow," he breathed. "Besides," his nose brushed hers, "you liked it." His hands slid up her thighs to wrap around her waist.
"I did," Elena nodded. She couldn't have denied it. "I've been waiting for that for years."
"You have?" He leaned back a bit.
"I might have had a bit of a crush," a flush worked its way up her cheeks.
"A bit?"
"A big crush," she sighed, "but at least I wasn't ogling your behind."
He laughed.
"We'll have to change that," his chest filled with warmth, "after all it's a very nice behind."
"Cocky aren't you?" Elena giggled.
"I believe those were your words, Elena," he smirked. "You had a very good view on the way to the car."
"Oh right," she bit the corner of her lip. "I forgot about that."
"I didn't," his hands rubbed her sides, "but it has been a very long time since I've gotten a good look at yours."
"We'll have to rectify that immediately," her expression turned serious.
Elijah grinned before swooping down and capturing her lips in a less sweet kiss.
Elena hummed against his lips and opened her mouth for the expert swipe of his tongue. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hands tugged on his hair as his tongue worked her mouth.
She had never thought of kissing as being particularly arousing, but that was before he nibbled on her lip and sucked her tongue into his mouth.
She was lost in his kiss and had just enough sense to give a small hop when he cupped her behind and pulled her from the stool.
Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths as she slowly came down. Much like the number of shots at the Grill Elena had lost track of how many orgasms had washed over her.
All she knew was that she was a panting mess, and that her bones had been replaced with water. The only place she was going for the foreseeable future was three inches to the right.
With her cheek over his heart and her leg between his thighs she looked up through her lashes to see him in the same position as her. It was clear all he was capable of doing was wrapping his arm around her waist.
"Why didn't we do that sooner?" She panted and pressed a kiss to his jaw. She could see the purple bruise she had left behind.
"You had a boyfriend," he reminded with a small laugh, "and I had a girlfriend; a couple actually."
"Right," Elena nodded. Her eyes drifted shut slowly before snapping open. "You don't still…"
"Have a girlfriend?" Elijah's fingers trailed up and down her side.
"Yeah," Elena nodded.
"I don't know," he hummed.
Her heart skipped a beat as she used the last of her strength to push up and meet his eyes.
"What do you mean you don't know?" Fire flashed in her dark eyes.
"I mean I don't know," his lips lifted in a smirk. "That all depends."
"On what?" She tilted her head.
"On you," his fingers ghosted over her spine.
"Me?"
"Yes, you," he chuckled, "and where we're progressing from here. I did not have a girlfriend when I laid down in this bed. Will I have one when I get out?"
Elena's bottling rage evaporated in an instant. Her scowl was replaced by a genuinely curious expression.
"Do you want one?"
"I do," he brought his right hand up to brush her wild hair from her face, "but the problem is I'm a very picky man. I don't want just anyone."
"Oh?" She tilted her head and leaned into his palm.
"Mmhmm," he nodded. "You see I've got this thing for spunky brunettes, the kind that threaten men in the early hours of the morning with a scalpel. Do you know where I can find one?"
She flashed a brilliant smile and leaned kissed his cheek.
"I might have an idea."
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