Not sure that I have finished this story yet, so would appreciate your thoughts; let me know if you want more?
It kinda takes place after Elena's showdown with Elijah, but its quite AU too. In other words, don't take it too seriously!
Hope you enjoy it.
Letting the Light in
"I need to see you."
Damon hung up after a curious call from Elena. He was surprised when her number came up on his phone as a missed call. When he rang her back, he had asked her if she was all right, assuming it would have to be life or death before she would willingly seek him out. For a second, he had had fleeting idea that something may have happened to Stefan and surprisingly that had actually bothered him. When she said she was fine, he was at a genuine loss why she would want to speak to him.
"I need to see you."
How did five little words fill him with so much dread?
"Ok… When?"
"This evening. Do you know the bar off route twelve?" He said he did. "I'll be in the car park. Eight o'clock."
She hung up before he could ask her what the issue was. He popped his phone bag into his pocket and checked his watch. Four thirty. Quite a lot of time to kill. He knew he would be on edge until he got there.
"Hi." Seemed like an innocent enough greeting, but the way she said it seemed off, definitely off.
She had been stood by her car door when he pulled up. He was bang on time, so was surprised to find her already there. He got out the car.
"You okay?" he asked again, convinced she was in trouble or that he was about to be jumped as part of an elaborate werewolf plan.
He walked over to her.
"You're alone." He said, more a statement of fact than a question.
"Get in the car, Damon." She instructed and walked to the driver's side, letting herself in.
"Okay…" he said, doubtfully, but he did as he was told and got in opposite it her. She started the engine in silence and he looked at her face trying to understand what was going on.
"Where are we going?"
"To your house. You know, the one you never mentioned."
Shit. How on earth could she know about that?
He figured there was nothing he could say to that, so they traveled in silence for a few miles. Here, on the outskirts of Mystic, the houses filtered out and were soon replaced by pine forest which closed in around them. The amber street lights flashed above them in intervals, until eventually they filtered out too.
"You want to take a right ahead." He said. Hey, she knew about the house, so what was the point in letting her shoot right past it? He may as well save himself some time.
She gave him a look that could melt rock, but did as he instructed. They turned into a hidden entrance that in itself lead to a dirt track. After about half a mile up the road, the dirt became gravel. She slowed the car down and swung into the drive, the headlights casting two spotlights over a dark one-story house.
The house was architecturally modern. Its construction was a sympathetic blend of yellow oak timber and tempered glass that suited its forest surroundings. In daylight it was fairly spectacular, but at night the two high arched windows to the front took on the eerie appearance of watchful eyes. Damon had had the house built entirely to his specifications. It had whole walls of the glass, which in daylight meant the house was flooded with light. It was the last thing you'd expect from a vampire and would certainly put anyone off the scent…
He didn't like this. He was at a total disadvantage in that she seemed to know things that he had kept very secret. He had told nobody about this place, except…. Except his realtor, who was supposed to be handling the rental of the house for him so it wouldn't sit empty. She was the only one who even knew it existed.
She was a dead woman walking.
He got out the car and fumbled for keys he rarely used, but she was way ahead of him and pulled a set out of her pocket. Running straight up the steps, she opened the porch and then the main door which opened with a creak. She felt around for a light switch.
"Please, do come in." He muttered with irony under his breath, then hopped up the steps behind her.
As he entered the house, he noticed the work he had requested had been completed. It was newly painted, cleaned and aired as per his instructions. Overall the place was looking pretty good. Elena was stood in his living room, gazing around her at his tasteful décor with undisguised admiration.
"Okay." He said. "Care to start at the beginning?"
"My friend from out of town calls me last week and asks me if I know any good realtors, so I recommend my cousin. She calls me and says she has found this amazing place, and would I come with her to check it out, 'cause she's worried that it seems too good to be true. She tells me that the landlord is some guy who has moved into Mystic and so is renting out his countryside place. I say, what's his name? It's a small place, maybe I know him and guess what name she says...?" She fixed him with a stare. "Why have you never mentioned this place Damon? In all the time you have been with us."
"Well, I guess your cousin is fired, or dead, whichever comes soonest." He replied.
"You leave her alone." Elena instructed with all seriousness.
"I suppose that will teach me for using my real name, won't it?" He sighed.
She sat down, but continued to give him her best glare. He ignored that and walked out of the room towards the kitchen. He had a stash of blood hidden there somewhere which he kept in case of emergencies. He was feeling around in a specially made compartment in his fridge, when she walked in behind him and leant against the counter.
"Why do you stay with Stefan when you two just fight? You told him you had nowhere else to go. Damon, why do you do these things?"
"Did you consider that maybe I wanted to bond with baby brother?" He said. She gave him a look that told him exactly what she thought of that idea.
"Look, its no biggie. I just prefer the old house. It's nicer."
"This place seems plenty nice to me."
He actually found a bag of unused fresh coffee in the back of an otherwise empty cupboard and so he put some in a percolator. "I assume you don't mind your coffee black?" He asked and she nodded reluctantly, her face still the picture of unhappiness.
He poured himself a glass of blood. She looked away. She didn't mind him drinking the stuff, but there was something about it being poured that really bothered her.
"Oh do stop pouting;" he said, then added almost cheerfully, "so, do you want the tour or not?"
She shrugged in response and so whilst he let the coffee brew he picked up his glass and lead her through the house.
Despite herself, she enjoyed looking around; each feature he showed her was like getting to know him. The rooms were uncluttered, but occasionally she caught sight of an artifact or two that she suspected other people would assume were fakes. She knew otherwise.
When he reached the master bedroom, she was determined not to blush, but failed. He noticed that and smiled (of course). In the centre of the room was a massive hand-carved bed, with heavy feet and a stunning headboard. It was as wide as it was long and looked extremely inviting. She stepped out of the room quickly and hurried back into the corridor. She managed to get herself turned around a bit and accidentally opened a door they hadn't been through before.
She had opened the door on a small study which was kitted out with a large oak computer desk, sleek MacBook Pro and an expensive looking sound system. However, what dominated the room was the floor to ceiling bookshelves that entirely lined the walls. The only wall which wasn't covered in books was the back one, which again was glass. In front of this nestled a heavy, tan, vintage leather sofa. The surface of the sofa was a web of cracks and its seat sagged in the middle from years of use. It just cried out to be curled up on with a good book. Damon had bought it second-hand from a store in Texas. Because he had fallen in love with it, he had shipped it a ridiculous distance to bring it here. He had even taken the window out to get it inside the room. He liked to think if he concentrated he could sense its entire history; the kids from the big Texan family who had jumped up and down on it, the parties it had seen, the hardy cows who had been herded across the wide open plains which had provided the leather. But it was doubtful that even his vampire senses were that good, maybe he had just let his imagination run away with him. Either way, it was an unequivocal nod to comfort in his otherwise purely stylish home.
Damon walked into the room behind her and turned on a lamp so the room was filled with a dim, cozy glow.
"I see you found my hiding place."
She began to examine the shelves, she couldn't help herself. She'd give anything to dig around on his computer too, but she settled for the books. He left her there and went to retrieve the coffee. She heard the kick of a pilot light somewhere in the house as he put the heating on, which made her assume he noticed her shivering.
When he came back he brought not just the coffee, but also a crocheted patchwork throw (the kind you paid a fortune for in the city these days, but which every proud Mystic mom had in their cupboard). He was acting dangerously close to thoughtful.
He found her sat on the sofa, cradling his worn paperback of Jack Kerouac's On the Road. She took both the coffee and the throw from him with thanks. She tried to return the book, but he refused to take it from her.
"Keep it," he said, "I want to know what you make of it."
He sat down next to her and sank into the sofa too. She had to fight the urge to pull her feet up under the throw and curl up.
"Elena, don't tell me we came all the way out here so you could admonish me for owning a house. Why are we really here?"
She popped the book on the arm of the chair and turned to face him, cradling the coffee in her hands.
"Stefan doesn't know where to find you, does he? What is it that you couldn't say in front of him?" He continued.
He was so bloody insightful, it made her furious. She looked into the darkness of her coffee.
"I've had a lot of Stefan's blood recently. A lot of it..." She began. Damon's mind raced ahead, but he couldn't second-guess her. "When Caroline first changed, she said the blood did things to her."
He remembered her saying that.
"It does a lot of things, Elena. What are you getting at?" He shifted in his seat, for the second time this evening he didn't like where this was going.
"She said she remembered things. Things about what you did to her."
"Oh, that. Look, I already said I was sorry about…." She interrupted him.
"No, I'm not talking about Caroline. I'm talking about me." Still he looked confused. She would have to spell it out. "Her memory came back Damon and so has mine. Memories I didn't know about before, they have...revealed themselves…"
He got it now. He closed his eyes and swallowed. She put down her coffee mug on the floor and put her hand on his, her warmth a sharp comparison to his cool skin.
"Damon, what you said to me…. I remember it. All of it. You compelled me, but did you really think it would never come out?"
His mind raced, how could he be so stupid? Stefan's blood would bring back the memories of that night, of course it would.
He was tense. His hands balled into fists, his jaw flexed. She forced him to interlace his cool fingers into her own.
"Damon, I don't know what to say to you," she began, "I didn't know. I didn't realize how you felt. How you feel..?"
He ground his teeth and tried to bear it. Her fingers were so soft against his and the way she looked at him… He either wanted to rip his teeth into her or sweep her off her feet. The jury was out on which.
He let go of her hand and raised his chin defiantly.
"What does it matter? You are his and I am too late. Story of my life."
She was Stefan's, it was true. However, she pushed thoughts of him to the back of her mind, this wasn't actually about him, it was about Damon.
She didn't know where to go from here, but she couldn't – wouldn't – walk away from this. It had to be resolved. A man loved her and loved her so deeply that he would step back and let a 'better man' step in. It made her heart ache to think of it. No man had ever done that for her.
There was another thing too, if she was honest. This misery he was feeling now, she shared it. She loved Stefan with all her heart, but Damon prickled at her like a slow building heat and always had. She had bitten it down, denied it and buried it deep inside her.
It was a miserable stalemate.
Damon was every kind of confused, why wasn't she leaving right now? She didn't love him, how could she? She loved his brother.
"Why are you still here?" He asked. "You should go back, be with him. I just get in the way. You're right; I'm always under your feet. I'll move out as soon as I can. I'll…"
"Don't. Don't go." Her voice was a cracked whisper. "Please don't leave me. I want you to be near…"
He looked at her, her hands were shaking which she tried to hide, but she couldn't hide her dilated pupils, shallow breathing - her pulse like a freight train. He was wracked with indecision; he wanted her more than anything he had ever experienced before, but he had made a promise to himself that he would not do this either to Stefan, or to her. He wanted no repeat of the Katherine situation.
She looked at him, it was clear how bad he wanted her, but he was unable to act; paralyzed by some kind of promise he had clearly made to himself. But it was not her promise.
Suddenly and without warning, emotion rose up in her. She abandoned herself to her feelings, reached out to him and pushed her lips against his. At first he resisted, but he could not help the way he felt about her and within moments his lips parted allowing her tongue to dart between them.
He felt the sharp tang of her desire. It was hypnotic, intense, overwhelming. Before he knew it, he had pulled her into his arms and her body was on top of his, her breasts against his chest, her legs intertwined with his. It was what he wanted for so long, what he hoped-against-hope for. He wanted to slow this moment down in time and be sure it was real.
He didn't hesitate any longer. He buried a hand in her long silken hair and the other on her back, pulling her as tight into his body as possible, returning her kiss deeply.
His whole body trembled with the need for her and he grew hard against her. When she felt this, it that sent shivers of desire through her body. She had a hand on his chest and she found herself hurrying to slip his buttons open. She yearned for his body; it was as if she was feeding off his feelings for her. He was loosening her clothes with slow and gentle hands, but she couldn't wait and leant back and tore off her own top. With a practiced flick he freed her from her bra and began to kiss her breasts. He took a moment to take her in, but he burned for her so badly he couldn't wait to be inside her. They began ripping off anything that got between their naked bodies - the warm leather sofa easing beneath their bodies.
She realized she had spent so much time trying not to notice how incredibly handsome he was - but if this was to be their moment, then she wanted to look. He was confident and uninhibited and enjoyed her admiring gaze when it lingered over his defined body. He expected her to be shy, but here she was teasing him and making him rock hard.
His tongue flicked from her mouth to her ear lobe, to the nape of her neck. He slipped his fingers between her legs and expertly stroked her there. She cried out, on the edge of climax already. He didn't seem to be able to wait much longer either and putting a strong hand under her back he moved her so he could enter her. She wrapped her lithe legs around him and he pushed deep into her. She let out a cry. He almost lost control as she did. He refused to look in her eyes, afraid that if he did, he would not be able to last.
She began to match his rhythm. He kissed her throat as she rolled her head back, seeing stars on the backs of her eyelids. He felt her contract around him and she ran her hands down his back and onto his buttocks, pulling him in deeper as she came. At that, he could hold no longer and finally he let himself look into her eyes. As they met each other's gaze, they saw their own passion reflected there and a cry came from each of them from somewhere deep inside themselves.
He collapsed, spent. His fingers were entwined in her hair, his head on her shoulder. He listened to her breathe - both of them glistening with afterglow.
They lay like that for a moment, too caught up in the sting of sex to be able to process a single thought. Eventually, he moved off her and she pulled the patchwork throw over them. They seemed to have become one body, cherished by the giving leather of the sofa. Neither of them spoke. He stroked her hair, in slow rhythmic motions and she held tight to him.
Where to go from here? He felt angry at himself; the sex had been too urgent, too needful. He had given himself away, his desperate need for her.
Feeling exhausted and perhaps also avoiding dealing with what had just happened, Elena's body shut down and she fell asleep curled tight into his body, her fingers still stroking his chest. When she woke mere minutes later, he was looking down at her, his eyes full of emotion.
"Do you love me?" He asked her and she nodded slowly.
He sighed at that, closing his eyes for a moment. God, what a mess they were in.
"Elena…" he began, a note of gravity to his voice she had never heard before.
She reached up and pulled him down to her lips. She knew it was wrong, but she wanted to distract him. She didn't want to think about consequences, the rights and wrongs of what they were doing, she just wanted to be with him in the here and now. She just needed a little more time. That glass wall was keeping out a world she didn't want to face, a world that kept the company of the creatures who dwelt in dark forest depths.
He responded as she expected to her kiss. His tongue probed hers with happiness. She was surprised at his gentleness; he was a different person to the one she had thought she had known. This Damon had so many sides to his personality, so many depths.
Once again she could feel him quivering sharply into readiness. He rolled her on top of him and she let her legs slip either side of his body, his penis pressed against her stomach. She reached her hands down to it and began to stroke his length; he threw his head back and groaned, his whole body shuddered in response. She wriggled down his body then and took him into her mouth. She could taste herself on him.
"Oh my God…" He uttered, in a voice barely audible.
He was so responsive, so in the moment, that the whole room buzzed with his energy. After a minute or two he begged her to stop, he was losing himself to her. He used strong hands to flip their positions so he was on top. He kissed her again, and ran his thumb lightly over her breast, down her across her stomach and over her thigh. In a swift, seamless movement, his hands were underneath her body and he was lifting her up. She rested her head against his chest as he carried her through to the bedroom and placed her tenderly onto that massive bed.
Their lovemaking went on and on through the night. They would switch between passionate exchanges, frenziedly trying to get inside each other's skin, then would revert to holding one another close and whispering all the things they had wished they had ever said. There were no boundaries, nothing that they could not share, whether bodies, or words.
Exhausted, they fell asleep in each other's arms.
When she woke, it was late morning and she got out of the bed and tiptoed to his en-suite bathroom. Much like his room back at the other house, it had a large bath in the centre. However this was more old-fashioned, with iron rolled-top and heavy clawed feet. She turned the taps and was delighted when plenty of hot water gushed out.
Every part of her ached; they had not held back in any way and her body felt utterly ravaged. She couldn't wait for the bath to fill and for her to relax into it. She shut the door and took care of necessities, which made her wince. She definitely needed the soothing water on her body.
She looked in his bathroom cabinet for soap or bubble bath, but of course it was empty, ready for a tenant. No matter, just the water would do.
She dipped her hand in the bath and let the water run through her fingers. Her mind drifted in and out of the moments from the night which she replayed in her mind as if they were slides from her childhood.
"I can't imagine my life without you."
She lowered herself gingerly into the hot water, allowing her hair to get wet and float over her shoulders. She dipped her head back under the water and she remembered his face as he had kissed her toes. She had wriggled away from him, ticklish and giggling and he had smiled up at her. His smile was quite something else, strikingly handsome and just a little bit wicked. Thinking about that lead her to remember the first time he had spooned her, which had been incredibly intimate and special, with him resting his hand on her hip bone and laying little kisses on her neck and shoulders. It had started innocently enough, but soon his hand had slid between her legs again and when she was on the verge of her umpteenth orgasm he had made his intention clear. She had been nervous, because she had never done that before, but he whispered to her to relax and to move against him instead of the other way around. She had. The experience was altogether incredible, one of the many intense and private moments they had shared.
She could not believe how she had behaved, perhaps it was because he had been so gentle and tender with her that it had made her want to do things she had never done before. She wanted to push her boundaries, or maybe she just wanted him to see there was another side to her, that she wasn't just the good girl he thought she was. As more delicious moments came back to her, she dipped her head under the water and blew the air out of her cheeks. She opened her eyes and saw Damon's distorted face looking down at her, smiling. She took a moment to return to the surface; she enjoyed seeing him from that perspective, distant, yet close. He put his hand in the water and rested it on her shin.
"I'm going to take your car and head out; I'll bring you back a few things."
"Okay. Don't be long."
He smiled at that, then straightened up and kissed the crown of her hair. She reached out and grabbed his hand and pulled him back for a proper kiss. He closed the door behind him and she sank back into that wonderful tub.
When he returned, she was sat once again on that sofa, her feet under the throw reading On the Road. Her hair was drying out and going wavy in the sunshine.
"Miss me?" He asked.
"Of course I did."
He came and sat next to her, lifting her legs up and placing them over his lap.
"I bring gifts." He said, delving into the paper bag he carried. "Toothbrush, toothpaste…"
"Uch, I love you!" she exclaimed, grabbing them both.
"And, the very best in vacuum-packed-croissants that the 7-Eleven had."
She followed him into the kitchen.
"You don't know how good it is to have clean teeth!" she said. He reached out for her, and kissed her.
After she ate, she began to wash dishes. He pulled her away from the sink and put his arms around her, his face serious once more.
"Elena, you know we can't sit around here, playing house. What are we going to do?" She smiled sadly and tried to kiss him again, but he wasn't falling for that twice. He caught her wrists in his hands.
"Elena, listen to me. You know what we have to do. You have to forget this; for good this time." When she responded with horror to this suggestion, he was secretly relieved.
"No, Damon! Please don't do that, I couldn't bare it."
They went upstairs once more, forever drawn back to that study which had become their cocoon against the world. She stared out into the garden, a lawn that sloped down to the forest's edge. The sun had cast an eerie red sky outside. She stood with her hand placed lightly on the window, as if that world she wanted to keep outside was slowly seeping in and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
"We have two choices." He was saying to her. "Either I know and you don't, or we both know. Either way it will be hell."
"We both know." She said forcefully. "How can you possibly want me to forget?"
"How can you be with him if you don't?" He added reasonably.
She lowered her head and felt the shame creep over her like the onset of a disease.
"Damon, what if I don't want to go back?" She looked to him for his response. He was shaking his head.
"You don't mean that." He joined her by the window and put his arms around her. "Elena, I have to face this on my own. You know I do. What we have done, is my burden, not yours."
She began to cry, she couldn't help herself. He rocked her in his arms, but there was no comfort from the truth.
"What you are asking me to do, to forget last night ever happened... I don't ever want to forget."
"You have to. We'll never be happy otherwise." He said. "If you don't, all three of us will be miserable."
"We don't have to be. Don't do it. I promise I won't ever let him know, but don't make me forget Damon, please!" She begged, tears running down her cheeks.
"I must and I will do it properly this time. Shhh, it's okay." He squeezed her tight and let her cry. He knew that however tempted he was to let her remember, how could any of them ever have a shot at being truly happy if she did? If he had to be the one to suffer, then so be it. He was no stranger to that and he would do it for her anyway. One night with her was worth it.
He pulled back and turned her around so she would look at him. She closed her eyes firmly and so he put his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to his.
"Open your eyes."
"No!"
He kissed her, softly on the lips and she kissed him back, but kept her eyes firmly closed.
"Open your eyes."
She shook her head. He kissed her again and she threw herself into his arms and held him tight.
"Elena… Please don't do this, don't make it any more difficult than it is already." He asked, but she refused to comply.
He sighed, the pain in his heart increasing by the moment. What could he say to her to make her see?
"Stefan deserves you, Elena and by you being with him, you are still in my life. I'll always be there for you, but we both know that what we have here is fantasy and what you have with him is real. You have to open your eyes, sweetheart, not for me but for him. Open your eyes."
She leant back then and slowly she let them open.
"Please Damon," she begged, "just one more kiss."
He looked at her and knew what to do…