AN: Hello, everyone. This is my first fanfiction, which I'm super excited about! I'm a diehard Delena fan, so naturally I would write about them. Right now this is a one shot, but I will continue if you want me to.

"You taste like heaven, but God knows you're built for sin."

-Framing Hanley

Elena doesn't know how she initially missed him as she walked into Mystic Fall's Grill. He certainly wasn't the kind of man eyes failed to register. Regardless though, she failed to see him as she and her two best friends, Caroline Forbes and Bonnie Bennett, sat down in their favorite booth in the corner.

Caroline per usual was texting Tyler Lockwood, her flavor of the month. Tyler's father was the mayor of Mystic Falls and following in his father's footsteps, Tyler was a renowned dick and womanizer. What Caroline saw in the boy she couldn't possibly fathom.

Bonnie was staring at her in a way that made her itch. It was the kind of stare that she'd been getting a lot lately- a mixture of worry, confusion and pity. She despised that look.

"So, ladies," Caroline said in her eternal cheerleader voice, setting down her phone and glancing up at her friends. "Are you two going to sign up as volunteers for the fundraisers?" While the question itself was harmless, the way Caroline said it in a way that made Elena think it was more of a threat than a request.

Elena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She could think of many things she would rather be doing after school and on weekends than vigorously working on yet another fundraiser. Mystic Falls was famous for them- bachelor raffles, cook outs, car washes.

"Of course," Bonnie said, very obviously trying to placate the blonde girl.

Elena sighed. "It's not like I have a choice," she joked. Kind of.

Caroline clapped her hands together and grinned widely. "Then it's settled. I was thinking that we could meet right after school on Monday to start discussing exactly what we plan on doing. Or maybe even tomorrow if you two aren't…"

Elena found herself zoning out as Caroline went on about the details of the fundraiser. She knew it was rude, but she couldn't help it. She just didn't care. The only reason she was even doing the fundraiser was so Jenna wouldn't make her go see a psychologist, which she had threatened right before the school year started. The only thing Elena wanted to do less than organize a fundraiser was talk to some old guy about her feelings.

"E-le-na?" Caroline's annoyed voice cut through her thoughts.

Elena looked up, hoping Caroline hadn't noticed she wasn't paying attention. "Hmm?" she asked., widening her brown doe eyes in an innocent manner.

No such luck. Caroline's pretty blue eyes were metaphorically cutting her into pieces. "Have you listened to a word I've said in the last ten minutes?" she asked, throwing her hands up in the air.

Elena did her best to look ashamed of herself. "No," she said sighing. "My mind just wandered. Sorry."

Caroline sighed, already simmering down. "It's fine," she said. "I'll give you the details again later."

Elena was pretty sure Caroline wasn't going to go all killer Barbie on her, but she did feel a little bad about ignoring her. Caroline may have been shallow, insecure and neurotic, but they'd been best friends since their diaper days. "I bet I could get us some beers," Elena said as a peace offering.

"Elena," Bonnie said, her eyes widening. "Are you crazy? Everyone knows we aren't twenty-one."

"Oh, come on, Bonnie," Caroline said, rolling her eyes. "Might I remind you what we were all doing last Saturday night?"

"Drinking in the middle of the woods with a hundred other people is a bit different than drinking in a restaurant full of people that have known us since birth!" Bonnie exclaimed. She turned to Elena, her eyes pleading. Elena didn't need to be psychic to know that Bonnie wasn't upset about drinking beers in public. She was upset that it had been Elena who suggested it. The old Elena Gilbert wouldn't do that and there was nothing Bonnie wanted more than to have the old Elena back.

Didn't they all?

Elena looked down at her hands folded on the table as she said, "It's just beer, Bonnie."

Bonnie's hopeful expression died, replaced by a mixture of disappointment, sadness and longing. "Whatever," she said, whipping out her cell phone and ferociously typing on the keyboard.

Elena bit her lip, feeling bad about yet again pissing off one of her friends. "I'll be right back," she said, slipping out of the booth.

She tried to look cool, calm and collected as she walked to the long bar in the back of the restaurant. She had no reason to be nervous. After all, the bartender was Ben McKittrick. Ben had been a senior when they were all freshman. He'd also been the star football player, the boy every girl wanted and every guy wanted to be. Unfortunately for Ben, he wasn't a good enough football player to get a scholarship and he didn't have the grades for a descent college, so he'd stuck around Mystic Falls doing crappy little jobs to get by.

If Elena was being honest, he was a total loser. He was also sleazy. She couldn't even remember how many times he'd tried hooking up with her over the last few years. She'd turned him down of course, but he wasn't one for giving up. Needless to say, if she flirted a little bit, he would hand her a few beers without hesitation.

Elena sat on one of the bar stools, trying to look like she belonged there. No nervously tugging on her sleeves, no twirling her hair, no looking around. She could totally do this.

"Elena," Ben said, smiling widely. He was in the customary Mystic Grill uniform: a blue t-shirt and jeans. He had a white towel thrown over his shoulder and a small stain underneath the logo.

She forced herself to smile. "Hey, Ben," she said.

"What's up?" he asked, leaning on the bar, way too close for comfort.

She didn't scoot back though. She tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind her ears and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Ben really wasn't an ugly guy. He had close cropped brown hair and brown eyes, olive skin and a nice body. It shouldn't be that hard to flirt with him. "I was just wondering," she said slowly. "Can you do me a favor?"

He raised a dark eyebrow. "What's that?" he asked.

"Well," she said, holding his gaze. "I've had a really, really bad day and I was just wondering…"

Realization hit him and he frowned. "I can't give you any alcohol, Elena. You're only seventeen."

Oh, now he chose to acknowledge her age.

Before she could stop herself, she snapped, "Like my age has ever mattered before. I was jailbait the first time you tried to get me out of my panties."

Ben's eyes narrowed and he looked around to see if anyone heard her. "I think you should leave, Elena. I won't get fired because of you."

"Oh come on, Ben," Elena said. "Don't be such a prude."

"Leave, Elena," he growled.

She rolled her eyes and stood up. "Fine," she spat back and turned to leave. Just as she took the first step, she felt herself colliding with someone else. Someone hard. She was most definitely going to be sporting a bruise tomorrow. The person grabbed her by the arms, steadying her before she fell flat on her ass.

Once firmly planted of the ground, she looked up at the man with whom she'd collided.

He was a few years older than her and dressed entirely in black. Black shirt, black leather jacket, black pants and black boots. Even his perfectly tousled hair was raven black. The only splash of color on him was his eyes. They were impossibly blue.

It took her a second to remember she needed to say something. It took another second to realize he didn't seem to be paying attention.

"Katherine?" he breathed, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Umm, no," she said slowly. Whoever this Katherine girl was, she was lucky. The man standing in front of her had the face of an angel and clearly was smitten by her. "Elena," she added. "Elena Gilbert."

He continued to stare at her for a few seconds before finally shaking his head and smirking. "My apologies," he said. "You remind me a lot of someone I use to know."

"I should be the one apologizing," she said. "I ran into you, after all."

He waved a dismissive hand in the air before holding it out to her. "Damon," he said. "Damon Salvatore."

The heat that had ignited on her skin at his touched disappeared as something new washed over her: surprise. "Salvatore?" she asked. "As in one of the Founding Families?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "I see Mystic Falls is still all about the Founding Families."

The sarcasm in his voice made her smile. "So are you Zach's son?" she asked. She didn't think that Zach had any children, but he always kept to himself.

Damon laughed. "Hardly," he said. "I'm his… nephew."

The hesitation made her suspicious. "Nephew?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know Zach had any siblings."

He simply shrugged. "What can I say? Zach isn't one for sharing."

"Well, you don't live here in Mystic Falls," Elena said. She would have remembered seeing him.

"No."

"So what are you doing here?"

Damon smiled and cocked his head to the side. "Am I being interrogated, Miss Gilbert?"

Elena realized that she was probably making a fool out of herself, but she couldn't help herself. Something about Damon… intrigued her. Something about him lit a fire across her skin and brought blood rushing to her cheeks. After so many months of feeling nothing at all, it was a nice change.

"Just curious," she said, shrugging. "This town gets pretty boring after awhile. A new face is always a nice welcome."

He smiled and she felt goose bumps break out on her skin. It was a smile full of secrets and mystery. It was one that promised excitement. And more than anything else, it was one that screamed danger.

"How would you like to get out of here, Elena?" he asked lazily. "You look like you need an escape, and I could use the company."

Her mind was screaming at her to say no. The man standing in front of her was dangerous. She didn't know how she knew it, but she did. He may have had the face of an angel, but his intentions were anything but pure.

No, no, no, no! "I would love to," she said.

Damon had said he would wait out front while she ditched her friends.

With his presence no longer engulfing her, she was beginning to doubt her decision to leave with him. How did she know he wasn't a psychopath? This could all be some elaborate hoax to lure her away from civilization so he could have his way with her. She'd never even heard of a Damon Salvatore and she'd lived here her whole life.

She was beginning to talk herself out of leaving with him as she approached the table.

Bonnie and Caroline's head were bent close together. They were talking lowly, but not low enough to prevent Elena from hearing what they were saying.

"I'm worried about her, Care," Bonnie said.

"I am too," Caroline said. "But I don't think there is anything we can do."

"I just… I just wished the old Elena would come back," Bonnie said. "This new Elena… she scares me."

"Her parents died, Bon," she said. "I think that Elena died with them."

Elena felt her cheeks flush with anger. How dare they! They had no right to sit there discussing her while she was in the same room. She wasn't a child. She could take care of herself.

It was this anger that pushed her to keep walking to the table, ignoring their guilty expressions as they saw her. Before they could speak she said, "I'm going to head out. If Jenna asks where I am, can one of you cover for me?"

"Where are you going?" Bonnie asked suspiciously.

Elena shrugged. "I just need some air. I might be out late though, so I don't want Jenna freaking out."

"I don't think-" Bonnie began, but Caroline cut her off. "Do you promise us you're going to be safe?" she asked.

"I promise," Elena lied.

Caroline nodded, though she didn't look happy about it. "Okay, we'll cover for you."

Elena nodded and walked outside.

Damon was sitting in the driver's side seat of a blue 1967 Chevy Camaro. Despite the sun going down, dark sunglasses were covering his eyes.

Before she could change her mind, she slipped into the passenger side and put on her seatbelt. "Nice car," she commented.

He smirked and hit the gas, sending them flying out of the parking lot and onto the rode.

"So where are we going?" Elena asked.

He turned his head in her direction, his smirk growing wider. "You'll see."

"You'll see" turned out to be an old house a few miles outside of town. It was a sketchy looking place, sitting about a half a mile back from the rode with no windows, no parking spots and a simple wooden sign over the door reading "Baiser de la Mort." There was about twenty cars and motorcycles in all, each one nicer than the one before. She was surprised to see an Aston Martin outside of a place like this.

"Should I even point out that this looks like the setting for a horror movie?" Elena asked.

Damon laughed, looking amused by her nervous expression. "Don't worry," he jokingly whispered. "I won't let the monsters get you."

She knew he was just kidding, but she still found herself shiver delicately. "What is this place exactly?" she asked.

"A bar," he said.

He began walking, but she stood firmly in place.

When he realized she wasn't following him, he turned around. "Coming, Elena?" he asked.

"How do I know I can trust you?" she asked, feeling braver now that there was a good fifteen feet in between them.

"You don't," he said simply. "And you shouldn't. You know that though, don't you Elena?"

Her heartbeat sped up and she shivered again.

"And yet, you still lied to your friends to come with me," he continued. "You got into my car and let me take you to a strange place without any hesitation. You know I'm dangerous. You now I could hurt you. But you still came."

If she was wary before, she was terrified now. He was right. She didn't know him and it had been stupid to hop into his car and let him take her somewhere. No one knew where she was. No one knew who she was with. She was in the middle of nowhere with a strange man, alone and vulnerable. If he was going to hurt her, there was nothing she could do about it.

He was suddenly standing in front of her, his hand outstretched. She jumped back, a scream rising in her through before she realized he was holding something out to her. Car keys.

"You can leave," he said, not sounding like he cared one way or another. "You can take my car and go back to Mystic Falls if you want. I'm not going to force you to stay."

She looked at the keys. This was her chance to get the hell out of here, so why wasn't she already in the car? What possible reason did she have to stay here? Damon had told her himself that she shouldn't trust him. He was dangerous.

"If I stay," she said slowly, "are you going to hurt me?"

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do," he said.

It wasn't exactly the answer she had been looking for it, but she accepted it. "And when I'm ready to leave, I'll be able to?"

"Like I said, Elena," he said, "I'm not going to force you to stay."

She took a deep breath, ignoring every instinct in her entire body to run! "Then let's go."

Damon hadn't been lying- the "Baiser de la Mort" was in fact a bar. It was actually a fairly nice bar at that. Though the lighting was next to nonexistence, she could make out a long wooden bar in the back of the room and leather booths on either side. The middle of the room held four different pool tables, all but one occupied. Loud music was playing over the speakers.

Despite having seen the cars outside, Elena was still a little surprised when she saw how normal the people were. In the back of her mind she'd expected bikers and emotionally unstable young adults with too many facial piercing. She knew enough French to know that "Baiser de la Mort" translated to "Kiss of Death." Not exactly the kind of space she'd expect to find Armani clad men hanging around.

"You look surprised," Damon said in her ear. The music was too loud for distance conversation.

"I guess I wasn't expecting everyone to look so…" she trailed off, not wanting to sound rude.

"Normal?" he asked.

She nodded.

She thought she heard him chuckle, though she couldn't be sure. "Trust me, there is nothing normal about these people."

Before she could worry too much about what he'd said, he took her hand and drug her to the bar. She doubted this was the kind of place that would card someone, but she couldn't help but think about how'd she die of embarrassment if the bartender did.

"Don't worry," Damon said. "I've known her for ages." He gestured to the tall, curly haired bartender. She was probably in her early forties, though her mocha colored skin was flawless. She also radiated an air of confidence. Elena doubted the woman would take any crap.

"Bree!" Damon yelled, taking a seat on a stool. Elena lagged a safe distance behind.

The woman- Bree- tuned around, her eyes widening at the site of Damon. She was frozen for just a second before bounding over to him and planting a kiss on his mouth. Elena watched in disbelief as they made out right there in front of everyone.

"Damon Salvatore, you son of a bitch," she exclaimed, grinning. "I haven't seen you in, what? Ten years?"

Elena raised an eyebrow, though no one was looking at her. Ten years? Damon couldn't have been more than twenty-five, if that much. If they hadn't seen each other in ten years and they were kissing like that…

"Too long," he said.

"What are you doing back here?" she asked, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses.

"Handling some business," he said. He gestured to Elena, who was still standing a few feet back.

Elena watched as Bree's eyes widened, much like Damon's had just a few hours ago. She opened her mouth to speak but Damon said, "Bree, this is Elena Gilbert."

Bree was obviously doubtful. "Elena Gilbert?" she asked.

Both Damon and Elena nodded.

"Well, Elena Gilbert," Bree said. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," Elena said.

"Now tell me," she said, pouring a shot and holding it out to her. Elena took it and sat down on the stool beside Damon. "What is a nice girl like yourself doing with Damon?"

Elena shrugged. "Who says I'm nice?" she said for lack of anything better.

Bree chuckled. "Trust me, honey. Compared to Damon Salvatore, everyone is nice."

"I'll drink to that," Damon said, raising his shot.

A couple of shots later, Elena was drunk. She hadn't been drunk in a very long time, which is why she assumed she was such a light weight tonight.

She felt light and carefree and for the first time in months, happy. She knew it was because of the alcohol, but she wasn't about to look a gift in the mouth. Wait, no that wasn't quite right. A horse in the mouth? Oh, she didn't care! She was having too much fun teaching the other girls in the bar her cheerleading routines.

"Alright, girls," Elena said, putting her hands on her hips. "Ready? Go!"

She giggled as the drunken girls tried to remember the steps, failing epically. After a few more tries, she went to find Damon.

He was at the bar speaking lowly to Bree, who was no longer smiling.

They quickly stopped when she sat down on the stool beside Damon.

"Were you two talking about me?" Elena asked, giggling.

"How could we not?" Damon asked smiling. "You light up the room."

Elena giggled again, but frowned as she caught site of the clock on the wall. It was 2:03 in the morning. She remembered telling Caroline to cover for her, but she should probably be getting home.

"Damon," she said.

"Yes, Elena?"

"Can you take me home?"

"But we're having so much fun!"

"Please," she said, frowning. He'd promised her he would take her home when she was ready. Well, she was ready.

"Okay," he said. He pulled out his keys from his pockets and handed them to her. "Get in the car. I'll be right out."

"Okay," she hiccupped, happily taking the keys.

She waved goodbye to all of her new friends and made her way out to his car. It was only late September, but it was freezing outside. She shivered in her thin long sleeved t-shirt and rushed to the car. Once inside, she kicked up the heat and waited for Damon.

It seemed like a long time before the door opened and he slipped into the car. She let out a drunken squeal, her hand flying to her throat. "You scared me!" she said.

She could immediately tell something about him was different. He still looked the same, but something about him was different. In her drunken state, it took her a few minutes to realize what it was. Since she'd met him, he had always been wearing a smile or a smirk. He'd always looked amused in someway, like he thought the world existed solely for his amusement.

Now, his expression was completely blank. There was no trace of amusement in his angelic features. There was nothing. He was like a statue. Beautiful, hard, cold.

"Damon?" she whispered.

"Earlier, when I said I was dangerous and offered you the chance to leave…," he said, his voice just as empty as his face, "you should have taken it."

He turned to her, but his face was no longer that of an angel's. His eyes were black and the skin around his eyes were red, the veins popping out from his skin. He opened his mouth, revealing two sharpened teeth.

Before she could scream, he lunged at her and the world went black.

Review to let me know if you want me to continue.