This Touch

As much as Bonnie thought that she had forgotten, she hadn't. She knew what those hands were capable of. She was only too clear about it. She had seen him snap people's necks clean off, stake countless vampires and punch the living daylights out of his own brother. Hell, she had felt those hands grip her to him when he force-fed her his blood as a threat against his brother.

But what many failed to acknowledge, and what she did, was that those hands could commit the gentlest acts too. Bonnie hadn't felt his finger brush her cheek like she had; neither had she felt him tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The hands that carried death and danger under their skin had also caressed her in ways no one had before, flitted over her skin like a breath, and saved her from death. They had held hers in a dance. They had shown her a love she had never been able to find before. They had proven that he had a heart, that Damon Salvatore, the ruthless, callous murderous 'psychopath with no redeeming qualities', could feel.

Elena is looking through her photo album, sitting cross-legged on her bed, when the window creaks just a little bit, and the faintest breeze flits across the room.

"Hey," she greets, raising her gaze to find him leaning against the wall, all suave and cool in his classic black leather jacket and jeans. He sends her a slow smirk, knowing before it happens that her heart will speed up, the quiet pitter-patter of lustful appreciation.

He's always right.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, closing the album and sitting up straighter, giving him her full attention.

"What, a guy can't visit his girlfriend?" He raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms across his chest in a fluid motion.

"If Jenna walks in to find you in my room..." Elena warns.

"Which she won't," Damon replies, giving her a pseudo-annoyed eye roll, "Because I'll be gone before she even touches the door knob."

Elena sighs, getting up to put her album away. Damon's eyes follow her as she crosses to her bookshelf and slides it in between two other books. He's behind her before she can turn around.

"I missed you," Elena whispers, hesitantly placing her hand on his chest. She's never quite sure what his reaction will be to anything she does; the only thing predictable about him is that he's unpredictable. She remembers the other day when she said something she thought would anger him.

"Stefan is so good; sometimes, I don't even know why I left him for you."

His eyes don't even colour black. Before she can even draw in a breath, he's in her face, pushing her roughly against the wall as he kisses her jaw, eliciting a gasp from her lips.

"Gawd, you know what I like about you?" he growls in between kisses. His voice sounds so low and husky that it nearly makes her knees buckle. Without realising it, her hands have flown up to grasp his shoulders, clinging to him.

"You pretend to be so holy but you're so obvious about your fascination." His hands start slipping down her sides, stopping at her waist and creeping under her tank top. Her breaths are becoming shorter and harder, her hips gluing themselves to his.

"Huh?" she manages to pant, trying to keep her eyes open so she can watch his face. He's so good at pretending, and she loves that about him. Only the smallest bit of lust shows through his eyes, even though she knows he's craving her entire body, and it makes her heart skip a beat because he's just so darn sexy.

"Come on; I fascinate you. Admit it." He pulls away from her despite her protests. She watches, dazedly, as his blue eyes, the darkest she's ever seen, suddenly lighten until they're electric. With a jolt, she realises he's expecting an answer, from the way his right eyebrow is raised. Crossing her arms across her chest, even though the only thing she really, really wants to do now is grab him and kiss him, she pins him with a glare.

"No, you don't," she says defensively, knowing the moment a light smirk graces his lips that she shouldn't have gone for the defensive strategy. "You don't," she repeats, with emphasis, but that's only made it worse; his smirk is full blown now.

"Then, why'd you compare me to Stefan?" he challenges. She opens her mouth to reply but he doesn't let her. "It was to see if I would get mad. Honey, it's going to take a lot more than that to get me angry."

"That's ridiculous," Elena spits, glaring at him. Her mind still annoyingly blank, she rambles on, "And don't call me honey."

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing menacingly, blood veins streaking down his cheeks and fangs elongating as he growls. Her eyes widen as her heart beat speeds up tenfold. She presses herself back against the wall, missing the slightly rueful look that passes over the Salvatore's face for a split second. Then, the instinctive fear of prey of predator that slams into her chest like an iron pigeon slowly starts to dissipate as her brain picks up and realises: it's just a test. And, even though she's going to fail it with what she knows she's about to do next, she can't help it – lifting her slightly quivering hands, she lets them pause an inch from his face. Taking a trembling breath, she gently brushes them over the veins. Too absorbed in this, she fails to notice the way Damon stares at her, eyes thoughtfully narrowing as he registers her parted mouth and the curious, loving glint in her eyes. Inside of him, something rumbles.

With only the slightest rigidity, he blinks and shrinks the monster back into himself. He watches her fascinated gaze as his blood veins disappear under his skin right under her soft fingertips. Still, she keeps them there.

"You're not scared – you're fascinated," he notes almost scientifically, slipping up with only the faintest note of fascination playing in the undercurrent of his voice. Nevertheless, she catches it and is quick to fire back.

"Well, so are you, Damon Salvatore."

He grins wolfishly down at her, stealing her breath. "Maybe that's why we work so well together." He leans down so their faces are just an inch away from each other.

"You're bad, Elena. You pretend to be so good and pure but inside, there's a fury begging to be released. And, someday, I promise you, I will be the one to unleash it. Just you wait."

That's not true, Elena wants to say but it's as if his saying it aloud has made it true and suddenly she feels like she should have known it forever. Still, she's not going to just let him win. She's about to voice her protests when he presses a surprisingly chaste kiss to her lips before feigning a move away. Before he can even take two steps, he feels her hands close around his forearm, pulling him back.

"Not so fast," Elena whines, dragging him so that he towers over her again, "Who said you could go?"

His eyes flash pleasantly as he ducks down so his gaze is level with hers. "I did."

When Elena finally realises he was never going to leave and was only teasing her, she shoots him a glare. "Narcissistic asshole," she mutters under her breath.

"That's why you love me," he responds in his usual cocky manner, doing that eye thing, making her even more annoyed.

"Just kiss me already." Her voice is edged with frustration.

He smirks tauntingly. "Nah, I'm not in the mood."

"Gah," Elena growls, pulling him down with such force so she can connect their lips already. Damon obliges this time, willingly, hands finding her hips and roaming over her stomach, trailing fire behind fire in circles.

"Anyway," Damon says, pulling away from her one more time, much to her irritation, "You don't want me to be a Stefan clone. I'd be all boring and brooding and masochistic. Trust me," he pauses, gazing into her eyes, "You know you want me bad."

Well, okay, maybe she does, she thinks as he presses her roughly against the wall and bruises her lips. Stefan was never this passionate.

He's quiet for a long moment, staring down at her. Her eyes lock with his and she watches as his eyes darken. Automatically, fear spins in her gut but almost as soon as it comes, it vanishes, as she realises it's not anger in his eyes but arresting passion, the kind that Juliet can only wish Romeo had for her, the kind that blows your mind and robs your breath. And he says it with only one look, unlike Stefan's constant repetition of 'I love you's. His hand covers hers, keeping it near his still heart. She slips her free hand into his hair, her eyes never once leaving his. Their breaths mingle. He leans down so slightly it's like he didn't even move, and captures her lips. His other hand presses her to him.

And even though he didn't say a word, she's okay with that. Because he's got her wrapped right around his finger, and she doesn't mind.

Because it's a great place to be.

Fin.

a/n: all i can say is, it seems a tiny bit OOC to me.

*sighs* i love damon. almost as much as he loves elena.