Elena's POV
My heart feels heavy as I walk out onto the porch. It always feels as though I'm the bad guy, doing things unintentionally that get people in trouble or near-death situations. It always feels like I'm the one instituting the problems on everyone even though I know that that is Klaus' doing. I know that I didn't, but I can't help feeling like I got everyone in my family killed.
Everyone killed.
My mom and dad - I snuck out for a party and they died bringing me home. I lived. How is that fair? Isobel was killed because I exist, because I was the reason she got involved in this whole vampire/human mess. Maybe if I'd never been born she'd be normal, still alive. Jenna is dead because of me, because I got involved with Stefan, because I neglected to pay more attention to her while I was in the midst of everything. John died too, because he sacrificed himself for me when I wouldn't - or couldn't - sacrifice myself for the people I love. He died to save me, which is something I still don't understand because with all his armor, you'd never guess there was more to him that what appears on the outside.
Everyone's died, and if I didn't do anything about it, Jeremy would have been next.
"I feel like a horrible person," I mutter, crossing my grey porch to the other side while it creaks under foot.
"You just saved his life," Damon says, "Take it from me. Strange is bad; dead is worse."
I laugh sorrowfully. Damon's right, but the realization doesn't really help me any.
"I just can't stop thinking about the last time I asked you to compel him." I admit, pacing over the floor with my arms crossed over my chest.
Damon contradicts, "He found out. And he got over it. Again, not dead, Elena,"
He walks over and looks into my eyes, his pure blue ones piercing mine with his intense gaze. Damon says, "He's so lucky to have you as his sister."
I stare at him forlornly and regretfully. He stares back at me almost as if in a silent agreement. In his eyes, I spy the honesty that I've been needing.
"Thank you," I say, meaning it more than he could ever guess. taking a deep breath, I righten myself out, trying to let go of my worries for my brother. While I know that it could potentially be wrong, which is why I feel so guilty, I also know that Jeremy is going to be so much more haply when he gets away from the terrible life or crime, death and more tragedies.
"No problem," Damon replies with a small smile.
"Not just for this, Damon, for everything," I sigh, "I don't know what I would do if you weren't here."
Damon stares at me sadly and his eyes suddenly drop, embarrassed, then look right back up at me, truth written all over his expression.
"You should know this, Elena," Damon admits, "Stefan didn't screw us over. He screwed us over, but he had a good reason."
My mind reels as I take that information and sort through it. I understand is that Stefan would do such a thing, but I'd feel better about forgiving him if I knew his reason to blow off his brother and I.
Curious but almost hesitantly, I ask, "What?"
Damon looks me straight in the eyes, as if he can see my soul, and states, "He saved Klaus to save me."
I can imagine how my eyes just widened in shock. But wile my expression is shocked and appears all-knowing, my mind is in a frenzy, attempting to figure out how or why Damon was in danger of Klaus when Damon was the one with the advantage.
What comes our of Damon's mouth next is, "And he stole the coffin to get even."
"Damon, if he did it to protect you, then why would he even do that? I mean," I sigh confusedly, "Oh, what does that even mean?"
"What does it mean?" Damon repeats knowingly. He turns his head of raven black hair to glance curiously at me, "It means I'm an idiot. 'Cause I thought for one second that I wouldn't have to feel guilty anymore."
Now my mind is overflowing, reeling more than ever as I struggle to understand what he means.
"Wait, what are you talking about?" I ask, completely innocently, "Guilty for what?"
My accusations grow larger as I contemplate all the options. And only one or two seem like real possibilities. But it can't be. Oh, please don't let it be true, but at the same time - yes, please make it true!
My mind speaks one side of the argument as my heart speaks the opposite, desiring that my theory is true.
For a second, Damon just stares at me, and then replies as I can feel my heart growing and my lips parting in desire.
"For wanting what I want," Damon says brokenheartedly.
Almost without realizing it, my eyelashes blink multiple times, seductively, as I realize what he means; apparently, my theory was correct.
I glance sadly and wistfully at him, "Damon."
"I know," He sighs in defeat, "Believe me, I get it. Brother's girl and all." He says forlornly, staring at me longingly the whole time he admits it.
He admitted it.
And I don't know quite how I feel.
Continuing to gawk at him dolefully until he looks away a minute later, my heart and mind are completely against each other, battling to take charge of the situation. Should I kiss him, or ignore that he just spilled his guts to me? Should I accept his love, or refuse to give into the temptation?
As I consider this, Damon sighs, lifting his mesmerizing eyes from mine as I just watch, transfixed, as he makes his way down the concrete steps, one at a time. Internally, I reach and shout for him, wishing desperately that I would just call him back to me already. But I don't. I stand motionlessly, watching as he leaves me for tonight, to go back to the boarding house and brood some more.
Suddenly, Damon spins around, his expression fierce and seemingly angry. Throat closing up, I see that he takes steps closer to me, shortening the distance between us with just a few lengthy strides.
"No! No, you know what?" He protests, "If I'm going to feel guilty about something, I'm going to feel guilty about this."
And suddenly Damon's gorgeous body leans down to mine, closing the small gap in between us, and tilting his head down. Automatically, my body reacts and I'm reaching up, and I'm kissing him all of a sudden. Sparks seem to ignite and explode as we explore each other. I grab his hand and hold on, not pushing him away but not encouraging his tempting touch. His hands skim my back, my butt, my legs, leaving tingles in place all the way down. His lips are softer and warmer than I expected to be; they're mesmerizing and overwhelming. It's intoxicating. Glorious.
My eyelashes finally lift when he ends the kiss, and I stare at him through my lashes as though seeing him in a new light. He's amazing, and I realize for the first time that there is a greater possibility than I've let myself believe that I might just love him.
Out eyes meet knowingly, yet not knowing anything at all.
I wonder what Damon feels like right now. If his heart would be beating as wildly as mine is. If he thinks I'm as stunning as I think he is. If he wishes to kiss me just one more time, like I do him.
"Goodnight." Damon steps back, lets go of my cheek after a few seconds, and walks down our front steps and onto the concrete sidewalk without another word. And that's that. He's gone for the night.
I take a few deep breaths to calm myself as I attempt to process what just happened, and just how much I liked it.
He surprised me. But it was a wonderful surprise. Honestly, I wasn't sure, but I'd been curious to when he'd try to kiss me.
All of a sudden, when a few seconds pass and he's nearly out of sight, I whisper in vain, calling to him, "Damon?"
The dark figure receding into the distance pauses for a second.
My voice wavers as I ask hesitantly, "Want to sleep with me tonight? Please?"
Footsteps are followed by a figure suddenly in my eyesight; a figure with beautiful icy blue eyes, raven black hair, a perfectly sculpted body, and the best personality in the world.
"Yes," He whispers, securing my hopes and dreams as I decide that I do love him; that I've always loved him; and that I will love him for forever more.
That is only the beginning.