The house was quiet as Elena tried to make her way silently down the stairs. She had her bag over her shoulder and her shoes in her hand and sighed in relief as she remembered not to step on the second to last step that always creaked under her feet. The sun was up and shining through the windows and she could see the dust dancing in the light. She looked to the living room where the fire was low and the room seemed empty. She spotted her jacket and, tiptoeing to try and not wake Stefan upstairs, made her way to the living room.

"If you're trying to sneak up, you're doing it all wrong."

Elena froze as the voice came from the lounge. She hadn't seen Damon lying there. She rolled her eyes and kept walking quietly and grabbed her jacket.

"I wasn't sneaking," she said in a quiet voice, "I was trying to let Stefan sleep in, and grab my jacket."

Damon smiled though she could tell it was more of a smirk. The type of smirk Damon made when Elena or Stefan talked about 'couple-y' stuff. Damon reached behind him and grabbed his glass of scotch. Elena folded her arms over her chest and breathed hard out her nose.

"It's eight in the morning. And you're drinking."

"It's eight in the morning and you're leaving."

"So?"

"Exactly," he smirked and had a sip. Elena shook her head, confused and not willing to play his stupid little game. She turned to go when he spoke, "You know, I'm surprised Stefan's still asleep." His tone suggested a double meaning so Elena stopped and turned her head slightly. Damon swirled his glass, as if it were wine.

"Why are you surprised?" She almost blushed, but she had nothing to be embarrassed about. Damon hadn't even been home last night… Well as far as she knew anyway.

Damon shrugged but put down his glass.

"You'd think he'd be up and going… I mean, he's gone from being the poster boy for Prozac to the spokesperson for Berocca." Damon got up. He had a kind of anger to his voice, making Elena even more confused. What was his problem?

"I don't follow you." She turned to go yet again.

"I know about the blood."

Elena stopped again and rolled her eyes.

"So? What's your problem? You're the one who told me he needed it."

She put her things down and faced Damon. He was frowning hard and looking as if x-raying her.

"Yes, but not yours."

"What's the difference? At least we can keep track of how much he's having. I thought it was a good-"

"We? When did a 'we' come into this? It's you he's doing this to." Damon was definitely angry now and Elena could see why. Damon was either worried or jealous, or both. That would explain the drinking and the sarcastic remarks.

"Look he got this idea from Katherine. She had a little bit of vervain everyday and she built up-"

"- a tolerance to it. Bla bla. So? This is different. This is you. Your life. What if he screws up? What if he drops the ball? What about when it's your body we have to hide?" He was less than a foot from Elena now, staring at her with a burning intensity. Elena tried to pry her eyes away from his, but it was like they were piercing her, the ferocity in his blue eyes making her heart beat in her throat and she couldn't tell if she was scared or nervous or something else entirely.

Elena tried not to let her voice betray her.

"Then it's a good thing I have you here to protect me." She kept her eyes on his. His jaw clenched and his façade seemed to drop suddenly and she was sure he was about to say something but then he seemed to give her one last look and then the Damon everyone else saw was back.

"On your head be it."

Damon walked away, taking his glass; leaving Elena feeling like some dormant butterflies in her stomach had suddenly erupted into flight.