"Damon, you really have to stop this." Protested Elena as she left her bathroom to find Damon yet again, outside her window
"What?" He asked, flipping open the window latch and climbing inside.
"All these late night chats!" She'd started taking a glass of bourbon to bed with her, so frequent these meetings had become.
"Oh really? I thought you liked it." He smirked, arrogantly.
"What gave you that idea?" said Elena, rolling her eyes as she climbed into bed.
"Well, what woman wouldn't want Damon Salvatore all to herself late at night…?" His crystal blue eyes sparkled as he mocked her.
"Argh!" She exclaimed in fake irritation, trying to hide that she was actually snickering beneath the sheets.
"So Elena, Mistress of my Nightlife, what do you want to talk about tonight?" He said, perching on her dressing table and taking a swig of bourbon.
"Ha!" She sniffed, "You make a point of pestering me every night and you don't even come armed with a conversation starter!" She rolled over, hiding her face, "Goodnight Damon."
"Oh… come on, Elena." He sighed, rolling his eyes playfully. "You know you want me… You know I want cha, ha!".
"Are you seriously SINGING?" giggled Elena, bursting from under the covers.
"Did you know, Elena, that that song just happens to be written about me…?" grinned Damon, smugly.
"Yeah… I'm sure Pitbull finds you irresistible." Elena teased.
"Oh whatever, you're just jealous, Miss Smarty pants."
"Oh yeah, I'd DIE to be a sexual object to bald arrogant men in their 40s." Said Elena hurling a pillow at Damon's face, which, of course, he easily dodged.
"Let's play a game…" said Damon, she could practically hear the cogs whirring as he thought.
"What KIND of game…?" asked Elena cautiously. The conversation seemed innocent enough, but you could never really tell with Damon.
"Name and Shame. Know it?" He asked, repositioning himself on a wicker chair next to Elena's bed.
"Yeah, me and Caroline used to love that game!" said Elena. They had played at Caroline's many slumber parties. Back when they were cheerleaders and their biggest concern was who Matt was asking to the next school dance.
"Of course, I should've guessed it would be a favourite of Vampire Barbie." He muttered, rolling his eyes.
"I heard that." Replied Elena, narrowing hers.
"OK, you go first, Elena." Said Damon, draining the last of the bourbon. She thought hard, what would Caroline choose?
"It's Halloween, and we're in a Haunted House…" she began, only to be interrupted.
"That's a rubbish scenario, considered half your friends are likely to be the monsters inside it!" He laughed.
"Shuttup, Damon it's my story!" She protested, glaring at him. "We're in the Haunted House when suddenly we notice someone is missing - who had disappeared into the Darkness?"
Damon thought for a second. "Elijah O' Original One. Always found him creepy." He said, fake shivering.
"Why would that be? His unbreakable loyalty and outstanding morals?"
"Excuse me, are we playing Name and Shame or verbally attack Damon?" He said, incredulously.
"Alright, alright. Who would… scream hysterically the whole way round?"
"Matty the boring bartender, for sure." He didn't even need to think about that one.
"You'd be surprised how brave and masculine Matt can be, actually Damon." Smiled Elena, proud to protect Matt from Damon's unfair ridicule.
"You're right, Matt wouldn't scream hysterically… he'd be too busy yelling for his Mama." Elena punched him for that. But she regretted it as her fist smashed against a rock hard bicep.
"I'm never gonna win this battle," sighed Elena, "So, we turn a corner and Dracula jumps out. Who would punch him in the face?"
"I'm going to say the Invisible Man, seen as Dracula is complete fiction. No more real than the Tinkerbelle vampires in moonlight or whatever Caroline reads."
"Twilight." Corrected Elena, quietly.
"Oh God," groaned Damon, "Please do NOT tell me you're a sucker for that Edwin too!"
"No… I'm Team Jacob, actually…" she stuck her tongue out. "…that's basically Team Hunky Werewolf." She explained, seeing Damon's confused expression. He clutched his heart as if in pain:
"Well, on behalf of the Vampire species I would just like to say I am deeply insulted."
"You can turn off the water works," scoffed Elena, "I'd choose a Salvatore over a Lockwood anyday."
"Not much of a compliment," smiled Damon, "but I guess it's the thought that counts. Can I ask you one?"
"Shoot."
"Who would be holding your hand through the scary bits?" He asked, his eyes locking with hers. Elena shifted in her seat, for the first time uncomfortable under his gaze. She felt like he was looking right through her, he could see everything she was thinking. Was she starting to blush?
"Me or Stefan?" He rephrased, never once taking his eyes off the girl he loved.
"Well… I have two hands." Answered Elena meekly, after a tense 30 seconds of thought. "I'd have a Salvatore on each arm."
"It won't always be able to work that way, Elena." Said Damon solemnly, wishing he'd never brought it up. She couldn't meet his eyes anymore, so instead she yawned.
"I'm tired, Damon."
"Yeah, it's late… don't want Stefan fretting now." He joked, half-heartedly. "Night then, Elena." He said, opening her window and letting a cold draught in. Elena shrugged deeper into her duvet. But when she looked up to reply, he was already gone. A black crow cawing into the night.