9:00-12:00 am

The street was populated with giggling, tremendously serious and overall distinct personages. It was quite early for Elena, perhaps too early, yet she had just returned from her travels abroad and had been forced to encounter the daylight. She'd always known she was an owl, because when the darkness set in and the sun was just a mere memory, she came alive and made everything seem vivid and brilliant to those who delighted in the pictorial image of nighttime. The parties, the liquor everything seemed marvelous at night. It was true however that although Elena admired a lifestyle of such sorts she preferred a more reserved position and rarely devoted herself to true excitement, but people adored her anyway. They called her a 'darling' and wished to be amongst her company for as long as they possibly could.

The car stopped in front of the The Ritz and as Elena stepped out of the vehicle, the chiffon of her ivory dress decorated with the meticulous detailing of flowers trembled slightly in the wind and made her appear charmingly delicate. Elena looked around her as if feeling a presence which resembled familiarity and yet distrust, but took no notice of it, placing the reason for this queer sensation to be her arrival to Paris after such a long absence. With slow and fragile movements she entered her beloved hotel, where each bellboy greeted her with a smile, her being a trustworthy and known client of the hotel. Without much ado she was already in her room, where the air smelt of fresh roses and the windows were open letting in a gentle early summer breeze and making the silk curtains move swiftly in its might.

Elena went to the bedroom and to her vanity; she sat in front of the mirror and regarded her appearance; her skin seemed a shade of olive drab instead of the creamy olive or rather honey she delighted in, her eyes looked weary and with this she concurred that sleep was a necessity. Elena removed the ivory pearl and rhinestone barrette and with that long locks of chestnut hair oozing the smell of strawberries flew to all sides. Elena mindfully removed her dress and placed it on one of the silk hangers. Putting on a slip she finally stepped into bed and under the covers, trying to forget the lightly vexatious sun. Elena tried to gather her notions, after exhausting herself with making plans whom to call on and where to be present she fell into a deep sleep.

Woken only twenty minutes later by the sound of a persistent knock on her door, Elena unwillingly put on her thulian pink silk robe and went to answer. Slightly worried about her seemingly unattractive appearance she consciously opened the door.

"Mr. Salvatore,"

"You're pretending to be unacquainted with me? How charming," He smiled pesteringly.

"Mmhm,"

"I heard you were back,"

"From whom? I've told no one of my coming and seen no one since I've returned,"

"I will not expose my sources. May I enter?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I have a reputation to uphold,"

"I've never really bothered much about that, have I?" He said whilst stroking a lock of hair away from her features.

"You are so vulgar. I despise you. I cannot believe there was a time when I considered your approach charming and your manners impeccable. Now you might as well leave, because it is inappropriate of you to be here,"

"Elena, please do not cast me out. I simply want to talk to you," A profound genuinity was now present in Damon, or so it appeared and Elena felt too weak hearted to argue with him any longer. She opened the door further allowing him entrance and was now frightfully aware of her exposure and the conditions they were in.

"Damon you must hurry. I do not want anyone to think wrongly of you being here,"

"Certainly. Are you going to the party tonight?"

"The Fitzgerald's one? Perhaps. I do not feel entirely revived from my trip to enter into such a daring event," Both Damon and Elena smiled naughtily as they recollected the tragically astounding time they had had at one of their previous soirees.

"The truth is I only wanted to inquire about that, but now that we are both here," Damon began in a determined manner.

"We might as well part. I am inexplicably tired and it would be best if you would leave now,"

"I have never understood what was my fallacy in approaching you,"

"That was precisely it. Thinking you could do no wrong. Your character has always been overtly questionable so I'm terribly sorry, but nothing could ever happen between us,"

"I don't believe that for a moment," Damon said with a grave smile and giving Elena a look of frenzy and despair with his penetrating eyes, exited the room, leaving behind a manly scent and also a devastatingly mental encounter.

Elena stood for a mere second and then without further thought returned to her silky sheets where in perfect bliss she lulled herself to sleep with daydreams of the perfect suitor, one entirely unlike Damon Salvatore, but then upon the mention of him in her head she began to recall all sorts of unpleasant memories that consisted of events that had lead them to this despicable relationship.

Years ago when they had first been introduced at a social gathering for her father, the notable doctor, Elena had thought him ideal for her as a husband, best friend, brother, anything of importance really, because with a flutter of his lashes and the reveal of his seductive and empowering eyes one felt as if carried away by a brisk wind, but over the years he proved to be none of the mentioned. His constant wish to seduce her and abuse her reputation made him a dangerous comrade, so Elena shied away from him, yet he perpetually seemed to be wherever she was. It became a nuisance, yet somehow Elena always had believed he could become a more sensible person and a man of admirable character. With these thoughts she pestered herself until she heard a rather loud thud.

Entering the salon she saw the white window to be fully open and a flower vase on the floor, when it should have remained on the table. Attending to it would require too much effort on her part, granted she was already terribly exhausted. Elena gave out a slow sigh and with the thought of returning to bed calmed herself, when something made her senses become aroused momentarily.

She felt someone pull her close, hands around her waist and whisper into her ear.

"A girl as vulnerable as you should always ensure her door is locked upon a person's exit,"

"Damon, don't let's play this game. I am displeased with it, "Damon's hold on her tightened and his intentions became clearer.

"I told you I'm not in the mood. Why can't you just leave? You always have to take things too far and make yourself look unseemly,"

Damon ran his finger along the line of her arm and down to her thigh, where he raised the slip, being opposed by the force of Elena's hand.

"Come now. I know I make your heart beat furiously and your cheeks blush scarlet, yet you still pretend,"

"I never do," Elena murmured and then frightfully abusively forced Damon away from her, rushing to the door of her apartments, opening it widely, "I need my rest Damon or rather I need you not to be here," This time with a disgusting grin and a self-assured stroll he left her rooms. Elena felt damaged and troubled.

It was still terribly early and Elena still lacked her much needed rest, so she returned to bed, but as she did, she realized that from all this banter and arousal she could no longer fall asleep. Elena had breakfast delivered to her suite and as she sat nearby the open window and sipped her morning coffee and delighted in the croissant she concluded that there was not an ounce of sensibility in Damon and that despite her demeaning and obvious attraction for him, a man which did not suit her at all, a man who was quite the opposite of her and a man who for all reasons that could be proved looked to be beneath her, should be banished from her heart. Paris in the morning. Perhaps afternoon. Delighting in the notion that besides Damon there were still possibilities out there Elena considered going out for a stroll. Then she cursed herself once again for having thought of him.

Elena wore her peachy coloured congo pink dress, with ruffles and although she felt slightly dressed up, there was no reason for her to not feel good, because the dress was a stunner. With a final glance in the mirror and at out the window, to concur that the burning sun was still ironically present Elena was out the door for a walk, by that time the clock struck 10am.

Clouds of white and gray hovered above at times obstructing the sun's penetrating rays. Elena strolled brightly beaming past the Louvre and headed straight towards the Opera, imagining an evening where she could go to the Opera with someone who suited her and was charming and sleek. The day seemed promising as she had concluded that going to a party seemed an attractive option. Parties excited her deeply and they made her come alive and to her senses, whether on a day like this she seemed rather dull and hopeless. Elena ran inside a restaurant, the Royal Madeleine, as the rain, cold and forceful, began to first drizzle then pour coming as an unpleasant surprise. Taking her seat at a round little table, enclothed by a starch white cloth and with candles of an ivory colour gracing the very center, she inquired for Sole Meuniere with a side of potatoes and a glass of Romanée-Conti white wine.

As she sipper her wine, from the corner of her eye she noticed the table aside her being taken. Then a loud splash was heard and as she turned gently to look, it appeared that some wine had been spilt across the table and a gentleman was kept waiting.

"Pardonez-moi, monsieur,"

"Ca va, mon ami,"

Elena dared not look at him. From her viewpoint the gentleman looked very clear cut and also well dressed, his suit looked sleek and without the slightest imperfection. His hair was brushed back and parted at the right, as was the fashion. Lost in her allure Elena disregarded the fact that a waiter was standing beside her and inquiring whether she would permit the gentleman to sit at her table whilst his table was arranged properly. Once Elena came to she gladly agreed, out of politeness of course, not curiosity or arousal. The gentleman took his seat in front of her and as Elena glanced upon him she was in awe of the disappointment this guest brought.

"Well, this is certainly unexpected. It is as if fate is bringing us closer together by the moment," Damon spoke with a smile.

"I cannot believe that I can't even escape you for luncheon. I suppose you did not spill the wine on purpose, did you?"

"How could you ever presume such a thing? That would be in a very ungentlemanly fashion. I feel as though I had not had the pleasure of your company for all of eternity, Elena. It is silly isn't it, considering we spoke just moments ago,"

"I have no emotions towards you save disgust, so once your table is ready, I wish for you to return to it and bother me no longer,"

"Your words crush my heart like a thousand earthly pebbles that fall all at once toward me," Damon leaned towards Elena and took her hand in his, running his fingers over her wrist so Elena was inclined to pull it back, so he would not feel her racing pulse, "Elena, you are rather a mysterious creature. I've never beheld anyone quite like yourself; so full of spite towards me, yet burning with angst to have a taste deep down,"

Elena rolled her eyes and tried desperately not to turn a shade of pink. Damon's words always had a near magical effect upon her.

"I must say that I rather dislike your vulgar way of speaking and would much prefer it if we would turn the conversation to the accustomed themes,"

"And those would be?" Damon looked perfectly lost, "For you see I've never had to go to such lengths, for my company, that is to say the present company excluded, seems to not bother about trivial matters and I would even be so bold as to say that they rather like my poetic ways," The sneer that appeared upon Damon's lips made Elena want to run away before she fell into his arms and begged for him to kiss her as passionately as ever.

"It is a pity, Mr. Salvatore that you are so uneducated in the simplest of ways because it ensures that we will never be on equal terms and therefore cannot even have this conversation now," The waiter was coming towards them, apparently to announce that the table was done, "Ah, I see that you will now be free to enjoy your lunch, I thank you for the pleasure of your company,"

Damon looked rather bewildered, but still stood up and with and air of self-assurance, the one that he'd learnt to put to use all his life, walked slowly over to his place, yet on his way he stopped next to Elena and taking her hand placed his lips upon it, in a most dated manner, and smiled as he saw her cheeks turn rosy. Then he disappeared from her view and Elena received her lunch. Delighting in her meal, Elena could not overcome the queer sort of feeling she felt, as she knew that right beside her sat her greatest nemesis and love. When she felt pleasantly fulfilled she left without a word to Damon, clearly still seeing his presence, and rather in great haste.

Elena strolled down the street thinking to herself, ignorant of passers-by who looked at her lustfully. Tears in her eyes brought her back to reality. She cursed him. She cursed his very being. Elena wanted no more than to be with him, yet he made it impossible by being his true self. The kind and honest in him was lost, and she did not want to devote herself to the scraps that remained. As she walked passed a park, her eyes turned to the old and withered clock as it struck twelve. It was midday and Elena could not wait for nightfall to set in as she wished desperately to mislay her sorrows and troubles and become the 'darling' she much favoured.