"I kissed Damon."
He was lying on his side with no idea how he got there; no idea what he was doing; no idea what to say. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. All he knew was that he was over. He became grateful for the support of the earth, for without it he would surely fall.
He looked at her - looked into her sorrowful blue eyes and found them apprehensive, gauging his reaction. He wondered for a second what his reaction was. How did he look? What was his face saying? What did he think? Christ, he didn't even know himself!
"I kissed Damon." This time it was the ghost of a whisper, a faint trace coming from his own tortured mind, sending him spinning into shadows again. The wording itself took him by surprise. Not Damon kissed me, not Damon and I kissed, but I kissed Damon. It was assertive, confident and cutting. As if she had made the move against his brother, not the other way around. His vision twisted and blurred, her face striking in and out of sight.
Distantly he felt himself rise, slow and hesitant from the ground, his mind detached from his actions as if he truly was someone else. His thoughts were confused, reeling with his unsteady legs. He took a moment to compose himself, slowly, feeling the world around him solidify into a distant echo. Sluggishly he turned and walked away.
For once, Elena made no attempt to follow him.