The Rest Is Still Unwritten

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Summary: Owner of a failing bookshop, Elena stumbles upon a unique set of books, written by an author with a rather dark story of his own. Can she break him out of his permanent writing block and give him a reason to write again? Delena. AU/AH.

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Chapter 1

Bedtime Stories

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"Goodnight, Elena," rang out the cheery voice of Bonnie.

"Night, Bonnie," Elena returned, smiling as her best friend, and co-worker, disappeared out of the door of the little shop they ran together.

She waited until the sound of the door closing met her ears, and then she let out a little squeal of satisfaction before meandering around the various shelves, looking at the latest stock with the kind of joy only a true reader could experience. It didn't even matter that these books had been pawned off by major competitors, or that in some cases they were donated items by family and friends; with the way her business was going at the moment, it was clear they couldn't afford the latest stock, only cheap hand-me-downs that they sold on for a good deal.

She thumbed through a few of the newer books, finding she was one of those rare avid readers that preferred the intoxicating fragrance of a new book compared to the somewhat alluring scent of an old volume. New books excited her, just because the idea that this new age of technology hadn't in any way put a damper on people's imagination. Okay, some clichéd trite still got through the printing press, but the fact books were still fighting back against technology made her smile on a day to day basis.

Elena used the time after closing time to examine her little pride and joy. 'Pages To Go' was a name she'd thought of in while stuck in traffic. She'd been frustrated, knowing she'd had miles yet to go and yet she seemed to progressing very little, and that was when her little habit of retrieving a book from her purse to read during those horrific hours had been born. The name of her shop had just been a little inside joke which no one really got, but seemed to find endearing all the same. Bonnie had loved it, noting it sounded like a takeaway service for books, and that was what had sealed the deal.

Elena had loved books for as long as she could remember. It was something she and her mother had shared. Jeremy, her brother, had never been an avid reader, although she'd managed to recently convince him to read 'The Hunger Games' which he'd strangely enjoyed, if only because the idea of chicks fighting was extremely hot, at which point she'd tuned out of the conversation entirely. The human race hadn't evolved over millions of years just to have men slightly turned on by the idea that females could fight, and perhaps fight even better than men.

Her eyes suddenly caught sight of a box in the middle of the room. She and Bonnie, with the help of their neurotic friend, Caroline, had been going through a sort out recently, and with the threat of closure ever on their heels, they'd decided to try and have a clear out, working out which books were just never going to sell, which had been a hard task. But Caroline, who was the most persistent person in the history of humanity, had taken on that task herself, and in the box were some of – but not limited to – those books.

Elena couldn't resist seeing which books had made the cut. A couple of them were children's books, some were just adult novels she'd never heard of, but a couple of books seemed to stand out from the crowd, and she picked them up, noting they were from the same author - Damon Salvatore

Now that was a name which had to have an interesting story behind it.

She looked at the two books, noting with interest neither of them had a cover picture on it. One was just a deep red with gold writing on the front, the other, navy blue. She thought about putting them down for one second, but part of her became intrigued by the lack of a cover. Was it deliberate? Did it mean anything? She wasn't someone who could just accept something as fact without looking for a deeper meaning.

Curiosity getting the better of her, she took the red book, titled 'Perception', and decided to read just the first chapter, just to get a sense of the book.

By the first paragraph, she was hooked.

By the end of the first chapter, she knew this was going to be something special.

By the end of the book, she realised she was right.

She'd always been a fast reader, even as a child. Some people just couldn't believe the speed at which she could read, and had questioned her, leading to her each and every time proving them wrong when they quizzed her on the contents of the book. She had a system of reading books twice; once to get a feel for the overall story, twice to absorb every detail, memorise every character and their traits, and generally just to memories quotes she could later drop in conversations.

Elena flicked to the inside cover of the book, hoping it would reveal some juicy titbit about the author, but there was nothing. No mini autobiography, no picture, nothing.

She glanced at the second book, titled 'At Third Glance', and read the blurb, falling in love with just the brief summary it gave. 'Perception' had been about the different ways two people could view each other. The characters it detailed were a couple of friends who had once been sworn enemies. In short, it sounded like the clichéd love story, except by the end they'd ended up back as enemies, their brief dalliance with love proving to be the one thing ironically they couldn't be. 'At Third Glance' sounded like a completely different kind of story, focusing on the struggles of a man trying to get over a childhood love, and as she read it, it detailed the various important moments in each decade of his life where he'd tried to ignite something with this woman.

She hadn't meant to get swept up with books that were supposedly meant to be shipped off somewhere – she wasn't quite sure what fate Caroline had planned for these – but she couldn't help reading the second book.

The ending actually caused her to produce tears. Rare was it that she found a book which moved her so deeply. Books that stirred her soul, now there were plenty of those, but unlike romantic movies like 'The Notebook', there weren't many which had brought her to tears. Perhaps the odd Jodi Picoult book had had her reaching for a tissue, but not much else.

She glanced at her watch.

Two a.m.

Where had the time actually gone? Rare was it when she actually found herself settling down to read a book after closing time. She usually used this time to scour the shelves to see what books to promote in the 'Book of the Week' display Bonnie had cleverly come up with. Sometimes she would find a copy of a book she'd read, flicking to her favourite bits, and that would consume her attention for an hour or so, giving her enough time to work up enough courage to drive back to her lonely apartment.

Sometimes she wished she had the courage some of the heroines in books possessed to walk out of a bad situation, but she lacked any sort of support to fall back onto, hence why she kept on living in a place crawling with bad memories. Everywhere reeked of him, from the ghost of his perfume lingering in the bathroom, to the odd personal effect he hadn't bothered to pick up.

God, it still hurt thinking about how that particular part of her life had gone down. Love was a painful subject in every language, and even in books, nothing was ever easy. She avoided romantic novels like the plague, choosing to throw herself into worlds which were either fantasy based, with only a touch of romance thrown in, or worlds where love wasn't the beginning, middle and end of each chapter. The Hunger Games, for example, was something she'd adored, given the fact that there was always a question mark over Katniss' real affections for Peeta. She remembered reading a section aloud to an English group for a friend, then asking them to argue for and against Katniss really being in love with Peeta, and to support their argument with exact quotes from the book. Of course, this had been before Mockingjay had come out, before the furore had begun over the trilogy, and she'd always loved that she could claim to have read the books before it became such a hype, although as Caroline had snarked, it didn't make her any better than the rest of them, just a borderline book snob.

Elena never had grasped Caroline's sense of humour.

Then again, Caroline wasn't particularly bookish. She just enjoyed reading the newest rages – think Twilight, Hunger Games etc – and that was the extent of her reading. But she was bubbly, fiercely loyal, and probably the most organised person Elena had ever come across.

Bonnie was more into the soft classics – think Pride & Prejudice, Jane Eyre etc – and she was a romantic at heart, but there was also a hard quality to her that made her someone you didn't underestimate. She was wise beyond her years, yet also possessed a certain vulnerability that meant as tough as she was, she wasn't insensitive by any means. Elena had known her a long time - since childhood, in fact - and had witnessed Bonnie's various teary episodes, and each and every time she'd ended up crying along with her, because that's how her friendship went with Bonnie – if she cried, you cried.

Elena yawned, involuntarily tucking the two books into her coat as she turned off all the lights and headed for the door. By now, the work traffic would've subsided considerably, which meant she could plunge across the city and be in bed with plenty of time before she had to be up to help Caroline and Bonnie plan a theme for the week. Luckily, tomorrow was Sunday, and the shop remained closed, so they could spend the entire day free and without responsibilities.

The theme for the week thing had been Bonnie's idea. Given how difficult these times were, they'd had to come up with some sort of way to attract customers, and simply handing out leaflets and advertising in the paper was just not doing anything to attract enough business. Rather than working on the outside, Bonnie had suggested, they should spruce up the inside somehow without spending any money on decor. Caroline's boyfriend, Tyler, and her brother, Jeremy, were both talented artists who volunteered their services to design posters and banners celebrating whatever theme it was they had going. One week, the theme had been epic loves, which hadn't exactly been to Jeremy and Tyler's' tastes. Copies of 'Romeo & Juliet', 'Pride & Prejudice', and even (much to Elena's displeasure) 'Twilight' were all prominently displayed, along with other books that kept to this theme. They kept the themes simple, and they occasionally dressed up to really sell the fact they were trying to make shopping in their store an exciting occasion.

But running a business was hard, and with each passing week, Elena was sure at some point she would have to close her business, sell the property, and do god-knows-what-else with her life.

She did have a dream to fall back on, but it was a dream she hadn't told anybody, not even Bonnie and Caroline because, truthfully, she wasn't sure it was a dream she could ever achieve. But that hadn't stopped her from attempting to fulfil it on several occasions. Until she could concentrate on it possibly, her shop was all that kept her going. It was her baby, her present dream, and she didn't want to see it fall under. Unfortunately, reality wasn't always compatible with ideas built up inside your own mind, so all she could do was keep fighting, day by day.

And though she'd only read it once, a particular line from 'At Third Glance' floated into her mind.

It wouldn't matter if he'd only seen her once, the effect would still have been the same; this heart racing, pulse stopping, lung clenching burning need to grab onto every last second he had with her until time itself intervened and bid this tragic story a curt goodnight, for what other hope did he have but to cling to a dream for a few more seconds before the sun came up and reality set in?

She couldn't let the sun set on Pages To Go.

Reality could go screw itself.

The problem with that was that this was reality. Loving books with your entire heart is one thing, but to throw yourself into them, pretending everything will work out in the end, that the final page will have the words and they lived happily ever after concluding it, is borderline delusional.

Elena, however, chose to brand it as hope instead.

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"So, I'm thinking this week's theme should be southern classic elegance," Caroline announced, beaming with unabashed pride.

"Ugh. So basically, Gone With The Wind then?" Bonnie guessed, rolling her eyes. "Why can't we do a heroes and villains week?"

"Predictable," Caroline instantly dismissed.

Elena listened to them bicker for a few moments, lost in her own world. She was tired, sure, but her mind recalled odd strings of sentences from Damon Salvatore's books. His characters were real and gritty, and at times not very likable. They were passionate, sometimes cold, but determined and hopeless at the same time. They were embodiments of the human condition, and she loved that.

Now if only there was a way to determine if he'd written any more...

"What do you think, Elena?" Caroline's voice fell onto her radar. "You're the deciding vote."

"What about under-appreciated books?" Elena suggested. "You know, books by authors who aren't quite as well known. We're talking books that haven't been made into blockbusters, books with titles that don't immediately grab you..."

"Okay, you're losing me..." Caroline immediately complained.

"Books that are kind of...underdogs," Bonnie stepped in, looking in approval towards Elena. "What do you have in mind?"

"Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier," Elena shot in. "I know it's been televised – I think made into a film as well – but it's a classic not quite as appreciated as, say, Gone With The Wind."

She gave Caroline a sly look, but her friend simply gave an unabashed shrug, and smiled.

"Uh-huh." Bonnie looked excited. "I have an entire list dedicated to underrated books. This could work."

Caroline gave a snort.

"Gee, I didn't think you actually had to be a book-worm to run a bookshop. Why, when I'm with you two, do I get the feeling I'm not as valued, not as intelligent just because I don't read as much as you two do?"

"You are," Elena immediately protested, aware they'd had this argument before. "You're integral to Pages To Go, Caroline, and you know it. You're the drill sergeant of this operation. You're the..." she searched for inspiration, "...Jasper to my Edward and Bonnie's Alice."

"What, so you're the know-it-alls, and I'm the one with the battle plan, and the quiet sexy vibe going off all the time?" Caroline paused, contemplating this. "Huh...I guess I can live with that. But compare me to a boy again and I will scratch your eyes out."

Bonnie let out a derisive snort, and the tension eased up again.

Elena could understand Caroline's insecurities. She and Bonnie had been best friends longer, and their connection to books had solidified their friendship. They did almost everything together, consulted each other on everything, and Caroline often felt like the odd one out because she just wasn't as well read. But Elena knew she'd been trying; the other day she'd caught her reading a Charles Dickens book, her eyes narrowed as she'd focused on the tiny print, her mouth pressed into a confused line, and that was really all you had to know about Caroline Forbes.

She was a determined spirit, with a heart of gold, who was just that little bit competitive, not to mention highly intelligent in all things relating to human behaviour.

"Deal," Elena laughed.

"And to be fair, Caroline, you were the one who recommended us to read Perks of Being a Wallflower which was a phenomenal book," Bonnie added, her hand covering her chest, as if just mentioning the book sent her heart fluttering.

"Well, my cousin recommended it," Caroline said, but she looked mollified all the same. "But yes, it was amazing. I cried."

"I didn't," Elena confessed.

"Then thou art a devil woman!" Bonnie proclaimed, her eyes widening. "Are you just a robot when it comes to books?"

"Maybe," Elena replied, hiding a secret smile.

Yes, she'd already decided to keep this one secret from her best friends. It was for purely selfish reasons too, because reading any new book, to her, was like meeting a new friend, and she had to determine whether or not to introduce it to her other friends, and sometimes that meant keeping it a secret until that moment came. She wanted to find out more about Damon's work anyway before she recommended him, although she knew if Caroline even caught a sniff of this secret, she would interrogate it out of her, and, frankly, Elena wasn't ready for that.

The three girls spent the rest of the afternoon planning the next week's events. There was a reading from a new teen novel – 'Beneath The Autumn Moon' by new author on the block, Kai Parker – as well as a few meetings with potential clients who seemed interested in helping the business out. They were dedicated to keeping the shop open, but sometimes the conversation would turn to what would happen if the worst happened.

"I think I'd probably try my hand at broadcast journalism," Caroline frequently mused. "I mean, it's always interested me, but I've never had the opportunity to pursue it before."

"I want to travel the world," Bonnie always confessed. "I love animals, so maybe I could run some zoo somewhere. Maybe become a marine biologist. I don't know. I just love the idea of being a part of something big."

Elena never shared what her heart's biggest passion was, but she was becoming increasingly troubled by the fact that running the shop was nobody's dream. It was just a job for Bonnie and Caroline; for her, it was mostly holding on to something which had been her parent's pride and joy, and even though she'd changed its original design, she couldn't imagine ever selling the place. In fact, the idea made her feel sick, so she would never dwell on the matter if she could help it even though deep down she knew there was only so long you could hold onto someone else's dream before you would have to let it die with them.

As Bonnie and Caroline left her apartment, chatting loudly about what film they were going to see, Elena felt herself sink into the loneliness which surrounded the apartment.

With cream walls, beige floors, and curtains the shade of wine, the place was beautiful, expensive looking almost, but she knew the truth. Endless hours of decorating, hard work, and playful banter had built this place to look the way it did. The laminate flooring carpeting the corridors between rooms, the sleek counters with oak coloured tiles in the kitchen, the deep red walls circulating her bedroom each brought now painful memories to the surface whenever she looked at them. For example, whenever she looked at the chocolate coloured three piece suite, she thought about the times she had waited for him, dressed in nothing but a loose robe, giggling as he'd raised an eyebrow the moment he'd entered the room and viewed her, always a look of awe twinkling in his eyes before he shrugged off his jacket and collided with her – in every way possible.

She'd thought about selling a lot of her stuff to help fund the shop, but she realised the memories were all that held her together. Moving on was hard, but so was the idea of giving away everything which had, for a while, been her entire world.

Searching for a distraction, Elena switched on her laptop, waiting for the search page to load as she typed in Damon Salvatore's name. His name didn't bring up a lot of results, but eventually she found a page devoted to underappreciated authors, and although there was nothing written about the author himself, it did list some of the other titles she'd missed.

Without hesitation, she found the books and ordered them online. Due to their unpopularity, she would get them the next working day, which excited her. Reading distracted her from everyday life, planted her feet within the realms of another world, and that was a welcome feeling. But the problem with distractions were that they were brief, not designed to give you permanent solace, which meant sooner or later she would have to face reality for what it was. She wasn't sure her heart was ready to take that step yet.

To her surprise, Damon had only written a small selection of books. The last one, published two years back, was titled '1864', and sounded quite dark. Then again, she had learned not to judge by appearances and labels, even though to be honest she was sure that was a part of everyday life. Her first impressions of Bonnie and Caroline had been quite exact, but there were other sides she'd learned to see and accept, so maybe the expression 'don't judge a book by its cover' was not quite right. Maybe it should've been 'don't take the cover of a book as the only representation of what's inside'.

Perhaps that was too long winded a phrase to use though.

She sighed, closing down the laptop and curling up on her sofa, her knees drawn halfway to her chest. She was struggling with the rent on this property, but somehow the money always seemed to turn up. It was like the physical embodiments of letting go and holding on were entirely at war, so that when one reason for letting go presented itself, it was immediately countered by a reason to hold on.

Sensing this was going to be another day where she would pointlessly succumb to the misery she hid from the rest of the world, Elena grabbed her car keys from the side, deciding to visit her friend Matt, who worked in her local bar. She was taking the car purely to remind herself not to drink, because both she and Matt remembered that god-awful night she'd drank excessively to the point of passing out. He'd been so good to her, letting her crash over at his apartment above the bar, holding back her hair as she'd vomited into the toilet the next morning, that sometimes she wondered what she'd done to deserve someone like him. Caroline had once snidely suggested he fancied her, and since then it was all Elena could think about every time she was around him, because he never treated anybody quite the way he treated her.

Elena sighed, deciding to opt out of going to visit Matt tonight.

She flung the keys on the table, whipped out the laptop again, and pulled up a little project she was working on. She worked on it through the night, occasionally pausing to watch the television, catching up on some CW shows which fuelled her typing speed. Then, at about three in the morning, after making sure she'd eaten and had a long soak in the bath in between insane typing sessions, she shut down her laptop, crawled into bed, and found herself dreaming about this Damon Salvatore character.

Her mind seemed to pull up an image of a dark haired man, with bright green jovial eyes, clad in a loose fitting t-shirt and baggy jeans. She had no idea where this image came from, but she couldn't get the idea out of her mind that he wasn't much older than she was. The language he used, the characters he created, spoke of someone who'd experienced a fair deal of what life had to offer, but at the same time was at an age where he was still continuing to mature and grow.

The more she began to obsess about him, the harder she found it to sleep, until her mind came to only one logical conclusion.

She had to meet him.

A/N: I really shouldn't be writing anymore new stories but this was a little idea that wouldn't leave me alone. My first AH fic (I think), so go easy on me. I've tried not to change any characters' personalities - I had a whole rant on tumblr about authors that do this - so hopefully there's no major OOC we go on, we'll learn more about the characters here, more about what drives them, and there will be several angsty moments for all the characters. This will focus on Damon and Elena, but there will be some Forwood, a sprinkle of Beremy, a dash of Steroline, so this should satisfy all your shipping needs, except maybe Klaroline. The whole premise around this idea is how writing can be a perfect outlet for people going through different things in life, and even though life can be your literal writing block, your perfect muse is never too far around the corner. Chapter 2 is already written, so we'll see what kind of response this gets.