A/N: Would you believe I wrote this when I was like 11? Found this on my old computer, fixed a few errors, and thought I would share it. Might turn this into a two-shot if it gets any feedback. Enjoy!
(Oh, and also, DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything about these characters expect for my own manipulation of their lives. Again, enjoy.) ;)
"Elena Gilbert and her escort Stefan Salvatore!" said the announcer. With a quick deep breath and a plastered on smile, I started my descent down the staircase to the applauding crowd.
As I neared the ground floor of the Lockwood mansion in my floor length blue gown, my nerves spiked as I saw Stefan nowhere in sight. Where was he? Stefan couldn't possibly leave me stranded at such a big event so carelessly, even when he was on human blood. I started to panic as my eyes helplessly flickered over the crowd. Where is he, where is he, where the hell is he?
Then, miraculously, blue eyes and raven black hair appeared, and I almost collapsed with the relief that I wouldn't be completely humiliated in front of all of Mystic Falls.
Damon gave me a small smile as we made eye contact, and I slowed my pace and visibly relaxed. "Where's Stefan?" I whispered. I thought I saw a flicker of something behind his eyes, but it was gone and covered by his walls too quick to decipher what exactly it was.
"I don't know." he whispered back. I took his hand less reluctantly than I probably should have, and we made our way out onto the dance floor.
I saw Jenna and Alaric's confused expressions as I came out with him, my hand clasped securely in Damon's. I only caught a glimpse of them, but Jenna looked appalled, yet Alaric looked as if the surprise were merely unpleasant. Our hands broke contact as we took our respective places as the pleasant first notes of the song started up. We bowed to each other and, with our faces close, I whispered, "What are we going to do?"
"We just have to get through this, then we'll figure everything out." he muttered reassuringly out of the side of his mouth, and I can't help but love the way his mouth curves in something other than a condescending smirk.
I eye him a little warily for not making some smartass remark, but all he does is give me a small nod. Things with Stefan must be really bad for Damon to act so…so normal. Serious.
We lift up our right arms first and align our hands to an almost-touch.
The intimacy of the near-touch, Mrs. Lockwood's voice rings in my head as we begin to circle each other.
I forget everything.
My blood-addicted boyfriend, my on-again-off-again hatred for the man I'm currently dancing with, all my troubles, my ever-present guilty conscience. Everything. Dancing with Damon is magical, unlike anything I've ever felt. Amazing.
His eyes are so spectacularly pale blue in the sunlight, and somewhere I'm marveling at how dashing he looks in his suit. I don't let myself feel guilty for this. And I wonder in the back of my mind exactly what I should be feeling guilty for. A dance is nothing indecent, nothing Stefan would freak out about. And it's Stefan's fault in the first place for probably eating some poor girl instead of dancing with me while his brother saves the day.
I want to scold myself for blaming Stefan. I want to feel guilty for not supporting him right now instead of dancing with Damon, falling farther and farther and farther into his brother's strong embrace. But I just can't seem to feel any of it as I look up into Damon's eyes, and fall into them too. There's a tiny smile curling the side of his lips, and paired with the soft way he's looking at me, and the ease at which he holds me, I have the out-of-place impulse to place kisses all over his body and show him how cherished he is.
But that's just silly.
As the dance continues, I see how well we move together, like we've been dancing with each other our entire lives, when in fact this is the first time we've danced. I see him realizing the same thing, (it's always scared me, how well we read each other) and we both break into hesitant smiles, as if we're not sure how to go about being genuinely happy in each others company.
I started this dance reluctant and nervous because this was always my mom's thing; she signed me up for the Miss Mystic Falls pageant, and I agreed because it made her happy. I wasn't sure that I could get through this without her. But now, I couldn't be happier that I did go through with it. Damon pulls me into his arms and only one word comes to my mind; home.
I'm lost, and I can see that he is too. In this moment, we are not Damon and Elena. We are not vampire and human, friend or foe. We are just us.
I smile full-watt now, not caring what is right or wrong, not caring what the crowd watching us must see. Not caring, if only for this one sweet moment. I've never seen this kind of vulnerability on Damon Salvatore's face. I've seen condescension, arrogance, cockiness, his little charming smirk. I've seen cold disdain, and hatred, but never have I seen this look of pure blissful happiness. And a part of me is reveling in the fact that I am the reason for said happiness. I move my hand from its formal position on his shoulder to a casual, familiar hold on his back. I feel his barely repressed shudder and almost smirk in my pleasant surprise.
I haven't been much of a smirk-y person since my parents died, and I know that Damon brings out the old Elena; the girl who was a cheerleader, who went to a party and had a tipsy make-out session once in a while, the girl who lived up to her name, and was indeed, full of light. The girl who was wild.
He smirks back at me, obviously amused by something, though I have no idea what. I listen to the lyrics of the song and realize how well the words fit my mood.
All my agony fades away
When you hold me in your embrace
He subtly, so as not to alert the crowd watching us, waggles his eyebrows at me, and just this once, I let myself do a little flirty eye movement back at him.
I mean, it is sort of required, right? That is the only reason I'm having potential eye sex with Damon.
Mrs. Lockwood's voice penetrates my thoughts again; Flirt with your eyes.
I decide not to feel guilty for that one.
I don't really realize when the music ends, and Damon has to give me a small nudge back, though he looks a bit regretful too. I blush, and strangely, he looks a bit flushed too, for a vampire. We both look around at the audience, squinting against the sun, as if both coming out of a trance. Which we kind of are. But now, we are ourselves again. He is Damon Salvatore; colossal asshole, charmer, sex god, the man who rarely shows his humanity, and vampire extraordinaire. And I am once again Elena Gilbert, doppelganger, girl full of maybe a bit too much humanity, trusting girlfriend of an animal eating vampire, a girl who is only friends with Damon Salvatore, a girl who didn't know how she felt…and a girl who is totally lying to herself.
Later that night, Elena and Damon were looking at Stefan through the bars of his cell, both still in their formal-wear from the party.
"I hate seeing him like this." Elena said, more to herself than Damon. Of course, he replied anyway.
"Well, we couldn't have him running around chewing on people now that the council's on alert, now could we?" Elena gave him a knowing look. It killed him that she actually did seem to know him better than himself.
"Right. And it had nothing to do with you actually caring about him or anything..." It has everything to do with that, he thought.
"Your thing, not mine." he replied in a heavy voice. He was cranky and surprisingly exhausted considering the whole 'being a vampire' thing. He moved to leave and looked back over his shoulder. "You coming?" he asked.
"No. I'm gonna stay down here a while." She sat down on the cold cement floor. He thought for a minute, and with a sigh, sat on the floor across from her. She looked a little shocked, but he didn't see why; she knew he would do almost anything for her even if he wouldn't say that out loud. He found himself lost in thoughts of their dance and its short lived glory.
Elena knew that she should be thinking about how they were going to manage fixing Stefan, or maybe she should be broodingly staring at his cell door, or be up in his room, crying into his pillows. Well the last one was a bit dramatic, but you get the point. But instead of doing any of those things, she was watching Damon with fascination. She had never really seen him as serious as he had been today. And now, instead of making his usual sarcastic remarks and constant sexual innuendos, he seemed to be deep in thought, not even sensing her scrutiny.
Now that she looked closely, she could see the tired lines in his face. She could see that the usual spark of mischief and boyish charm in his icy blue eyes was absent. His walls were down at the moment. He may not even know it, but he was showing her a more human side of himself.
He looked tired, both emotionally and physically. She knew that he wouldn't say it, and probably didn't even know it himself, but he was more human than he let on. It was immensely comforting to her, somehow.
As she had been contemplating, Damon was nodding off, which she found strange, him being a vampire and all. Not even Stefan seemed to get tired unless he had been injured, and she knew for a fact Damon was fine; injury-free.
She watched in slight bewilderment as his head swayed back and forth, his eyes closing and clearly trying to stay open. Finally his head became too heavy for his sagging shoulders and it fell heavily onto his pulled up knees. She watched on in pity. He was clearly exhausted. And the only reason he stayed down here was because he didn't want her to be alone. She sighed quietly and stood up. She glanced briefly at Stefan's cell and saw that he was still out cold, and would be for quite a while. Elena bent down and slowly rubbed Damon's arm in a soothing motion, hoping to wake him gently but still enough to get him upstairs and into his bed.
"No…." he mumbled, like a sleepy child, burying his head farther into his knees. Elena smiled at him. He was being almost unbearably cute right now.
"Damon…come on; let's get this big bad vampire into bed." A smirk kicked up the side of her mouth as she said this and she realized maybe she had been spending a bit too much time with aforementioned big bad vampire.
He groaned, clearly still out of it. Elena tugged gently on his arm a few more times, and he finally stumbled up. She put an arm around his waist as they made their way lazily to Damon's room, his head resting on Elena's shoulder. Now that she wasn't too entranced by his eyes to speak, she had time to wonder why all these gestures felt so natural. Even more natural, dare she say it, than they ever felt with Stefan.
Damon's eyes were still closed as they walked into his room.(Stefan had shown her where it was weeks before, in case she needed protection and he wasn't there.) Elena started to strip his suit jacket off and took his loose tie from around his neck, tossing them on the big chest standing at the foot of his four-poster bed. She knew it would be a futile attempt to get someone this tired to change his clothes but she wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. She couldn't say why. But she did.
"Knew you couldn't keep your hands off me…" he mumbled drowsily with a pale imitation of his usual smirk. She chuckled. Maybe he wasn't acting so childlike this evening.
"Yes, you're just irresistible." she mocked in a playful tone.
He just groaned tiredly in response, all trace of flirting gone. She pulled back the blankets on his bed, still laughing lightly.
"Come on Mr. Serial Killer, lets tuck you in!" she said in a mock-cheery tone. She tried to be mocking and distant, but it was still odd as hell to be tucking a vampire, no not just a vampire; Damon Salvatore into bed like a little kid. He smiled crookedly, his eyes half open, as he made his way to the bed and flopped onto it. He sighed as his eyes closed in bliss like he had just landed on a cloud. Practically before his head hit the pillow, he was asleep. His eyes were moving behind the lids rapidly and she wondered idly what he must dream about every night. Did he dream about his life as a human? Did he dream about making amends with his brother…or maybe Katherine coming back to him and offering her forgiveness and taking him back? The thought strangely brought a wave of resentment. But she immediately pushed it away and locked it up in a far away corner of her mind, and focused instead on removing a sleeping Damon's shoes. She set his socks and shoes at the foot of the bed and pulled his comforter up around him. He instinctively pulled the blanket closer to himself and snuggled into it.
"Oh Damon," she sighed. "I will make this come back to bite you in the ass if you piss me off." she whispered with another smirk.
Her expression softened as she stared at his sleeping face, so free of burden. So peaceful. She knew it probably wasn't a good idea, but she reached a hand out and caressed his face in a feather light touch. First tracing his eyebrows that rose comically at times and scrunched in confusion or worry in others. Then she traced his wonderfully sculpted cheekbones. Then his perfectly angular nose that could smell blood from a mile away. And finally, his lips, so soft and plump and dare she say, kissable. She let her hand cup his cheek in a loving manor, knowing she'd probably never get another chance to do this. Damon startled her as he leaned into her touch, nuzzling her warm hand. He inhaled deeply in his sleep and let it out in a content sigh.
"Elena…" he whispered. She froze in fear that she had been caught and braced herself for the awkwardness soon to follow, but he seemed to be still unconscious, now with a small smile gracing his features. Despite her efforts, she couldn't help but feel some hidden euphoria that he seemed to recognize her scent, even in his sleep, and associate it with such happiness. She rubbed her thumb soothingly across his cheek one more time and pulled her hand away slowly, not wanting to risk waking him. Halfway to the door, she heard a velvety sweet voice whisper behind her.
"Stay…" she turned to see Damon, looking at her through a sleepy haze.
She hesitated. He was practically still asleep. He didn't know what he was saying. The situation probably brought up some repressed memories of his mother and he, in his daze probably thought she was her. He saw her hesitation and decided his pride had already been ruined with her. "Elena, please…stay?" he asked in a voice so vulnerable she couldn't take it, and she nodded. He smiled like he had just resolved something and closed his eyes. He was already fast asleep when she turned out the light and walked back across the room to his bed. She wondered if she should just leave since he wouldn't know either way, but if she was being honest, she wanted this too. She didn't want to be alone tonight after what she witnessed with Stefan. And with him just downstairs, she was uneasy and probably wouldn't get much sleep alone. She knew there was no way he could escape his cell, and she felt horrible for being so wary of him, but she knew when he was on human blood, it was best to be wary.
She climbed into Damon's bed as quietly as she could, trying not to wake him. He stayed sound asleep. She watched him longingly for a moment then thought, what the hell and snuggled in closer to him. His arm came up instinctively around her waist as he muttered something unintelligible in his sleep. She rested her head hesitantly on his chest and closed her eyes. She was exhausted, and finally felt safe in Damon's arms. She fell asleep almost instantly. They lay snuggled into each other all night, moving around in their sleep but somehow never breaking contact. It was the best night of sleep either of them had had in a very long time.
A/N: Let me know what you thought!