xX Selfish Xx

a/n: The whole episode kind of felt rushed to me. Idk. Perhaps it was just me, but there was so much going on in such a short amount of time. And the whole Stelena cuddling thing was alright at first, but it soon became too much, because they were acting like it was Season 1 and so much has happened since then. Their relationship isn't so simple anymore. I just felt like that dynamic was downplayed. This is my interpretation of what happens after the Stelena rooftop scene. Hope you enjoy (:

xXx

where is my song?

i've lost the song of my soul tonight.

xXx

Stefan heads downstairs to bed before she does.

"Are you sure you don't want to join me?" he asks, smiling a little more genuinely now that he knows she's chosen him.

"Yeah," Elena insists, reaching out and squeezing his hand for a second, reassuring him. Forcing every little fragment of confusion and sadness from her tone, she adds, "I just need a second to adjust. All the sounds and lights and stuff-" stuff meaning certain conversations with blue-eyed individuals she's trying so hard to forget.

It's a good reason to stay up on the roof after they've all nearly died earlier, or at least, a reason good enough for Stefan. Some part of her kind of wants to relish the power of the moment though, knowing that the Salvatore brothers don't constantly need to be worried about her fragile little neck being broken. For once, she can take care of herself, and she's missed that. Somehow it disappeared when she lost her parents, when she had to struggle day in and day out to take care of Jeremy, to force Jeremy's mouth open and feed him, to hold Jeremy tight in the middle of the night when his sobs left him little more than a shell. Elena had to assume a mother's role, and though it probably should have made her feel powerful, it didn't. She was broken, too. When the Salvatore brothers collided with her gray-stained life-time, Elena chose to cling onto the persona of someone who will never admit to needing coddling, but expecting it at the same time. Admittedly, it was rather easy when they were facing threats beyond her wildest dreams.

But now - now, she's fully capable of protecting herself. Now, she has to shed the expectancy that there will always be someone to put her first, to take care of her. And if she's honest, that's terrifying. So yes, she needs a minute to adjust. But it's much more than how she can hear a rooster at the other end of town, or spot the fleeting outline of Damon's face as he patrols the house - even after she explicitly told him to leave them alone - and slithers behind vegetation in a vague attempt to keep Elena from seeing him. The sight puts a vague smile on her face.

Fingers stroke the edge of her jaw. Instinctively, Elena hisses, spinning around with red-glazed eyes to meet Stefan's confused expression. It's only Stefan, petting the side of her face in an attempt to pull her from her thoughts.

Veins retreating from under her eyes, Elena mumbles, "I'm so sorry, I-"

"Shh, it's okay." Stefan is still stroking her face, leaning in closer. "Are you sure you're okay, Elena?" He breathes her name sensually, and it makes her shiver. She has missed this, the way he makes butterflies erupt in her stomach, the way he makes her smile. Only this time, it's tainted, and she hates that.

"Yeah," Elena whispers back, closing the distance between them and pressing her lips against his. "Like I said," she says against his mouth, "just trying to adjust."

After a few more lingering kisses, Stefan pries himself away. "I'll be inside," he promises with a last smile. "Don't be out here too long."

Elena's smile widens a little. "Go warm the bed for me," she says, chuckling. "I'll be in soon."

Finally, Stefan peels himself off the roof, sliding into her bedroom window. Finally, she is alone. With a sigh, Elena stretches out a little, catching another glimpse of Damon's black button-up shirt - that he never has buttoned, so she's noticed - as it presses against the edge of a tree. He's not looking up at her exactly, just studying her out of his peripherals. Some tiny part of her considers inviting Damon up here to sit beside her, but honestly, Elena isn't ready for that. Right now, she just needs to be alone.

Damon's words from earlier still sting, though Elena has tried to dismiss them. She had been stewing over the whole issue with Matt getting saved the entire morning and when she'd finally gotten the chance to confront Damon, Elena thought that he would finally crumble. "If it had been you on the bridge last night, and not Stefan, and I begged you to save Matt-" "I would have saved you in a heartbeat. No question."

Elena should have known that he would have a retort, as emotionally drenched as it had been. Damon always does. The one thing she's always disliked about their interactions is how, inevitably, Damon always reduced her thoughts to pure emotion. That's how he is. Damon operates through emotions, no matter how misguided they may be, and she's learned to accept that. But when she's around him long enough, she starts resorting to emotions to communicate with him. Her brain stops thinking, and what's left is this little girl stuck between loving him despite his volatile temper, and loathing him for the choices he makes that affect her life. In the end, no matter what the issue might be that brought them into contact, Elena either ends up kissing him or screaming at him. That's not something she can do. She needs stability, some semblance of control. Without it, she's left as a shell, something she shoved away after her parents died, something that has been chasing her ever since.

So, as usual, after he had snapped that he would have saved her, Elena just had to let her emotions take full reign. "That's what I thought. And then Matt would be dead because you couldn't let go." And then shouting. "Matt would be dead."

"But you wouldn't be."

That's when it all comes falling down. Because Damon has said those words so many times, whether flat out, slipped beneath smart remarks or shared in a single, intimate glance, and it hasn't meant anything before now. They'd just become empty words, empty promises, that Elena ignored as she chased after Stefan. But now she has Stefan, and immortality and finally she hears him.

Damon hadn't been there when she'd sobbed in Stefan's arms, confessing that she never wanted to become a vampire. Damon hadn't been there when she shared her dreams of getting married and having a family and growing old, even the lure of death, as it made life itself priceless.

Damon hadn't been there, yet Damon understands without her having to say a word. All she could hear in that moment out beside the car was Damon's words reverberating in her head - "I wanted that for you" - while a simple truth hit her. All this time, Damon had been here, beside her, wanting the best for her, loving her, and she couldn't even listen to his pleas for her to at least stay alive. She couldn't even consider his position. If she's honest with herself, Elena knows that she has been nothing but a bitch to Damon lately.

Maybe it's because she's too scared to see what will happen if she gives in. Perhaps it is to try and remain in control even when the passion in Damon's voice made her suddenly go breathless as he growled earlier, "I would have gladly given it to you and let Matt die, because I am that selfish." Even now, recalling the feral frustration in his ocean eyes as he'd confessed thoughts too intimate to bear, Elena can't keep herself from shuddering. His words call to that emotional side of herself that she fights to keep from controlling her. They awaken possibilities that might have occured if she had chose Damon.

Only, she chose Stefan. She wanted to choose Stefan. She loves Stefan.

Staring below, Elena's gaze locks with Damon for a quick second, and then she jerks away, sweat beading on her forehead. Remembering everything that Damon compelled her to forget breathed life into something in the crevices of her being, something she's known but tries to forget. As much as Elena hates to admit it, she loves that Damon chooses her first. She loves his selfishness, despite how much it hurts to have him look at her with such disappointment. And that doesn't change anything about her choice, but just knowing that one ideal she's always held to herself, this need to be consumed, has only ever been fulfilled by Damon, is enough for tonight. It might be nothing in the end, but she can admit that Damon consumes her.

Stefan is snuggled up under the covers when Elena slips in through her bedroom window. He's thoughtfully pulled the covers on her end and pressed them back into a perfect triangle. Sliding in, Elena allows Stefan to peck her lips once, twice. She smiles, snuggling into his chest.

"I was beginning to get worried about you." Stefan's voice rumbles in his chest, reverberates in her ear.

"I'm fine," she murmers. "I'm a big girl, Stefan."

"I know," he answers, tipping her head back and kissing her again.

Smiling gently, Elena snuggles back into Stefan's chest. Her eyes fall close and she remember's Damon kissing her forehead, telling her that he hoped she got everything she wanted.

"Stefan," she whispers after a long pause. He probably felt her stiffen.

"Hmm?"

It's probably nothing, but he should know. She has to admit it to herself, even if it doesn't do anything but make her feel like a hypocrite for mumbling to Damon over the phone something about "maybe if you and I had met first."

Elena's lips quiver and she presses them to Stefan's throat, feels his pulse.

"Damon and I met first."