Prologue

"Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia. You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you'll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining the future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present." - John Green

I remember the day I realized I was in love with Stefan as if it were yesterday.

7 Years Ago.

I heard his Porsche's tires come to an abrupt halt and rolled my eyes, pissed off. I needed a new hiding place. The cemetery had turned old, pretty fast. Every time I went 'missing', those who cared enough to notice knew instantly where to look. And then Stefan would come, knight in shining Porsche, and bring a smile on my face, when all I wanted was to be left alone and listen to sad, emo music.

"You ruined my date Gilbert." He sat next to me, facing my parents' gravestones, and frowned seriously.

"I don't remember doing so, Mikaelson. Who told you I was gone this time?"

It was a 50/50 guess between Jenna and Jeremy. More like 80/20, when I came to think of it – Jeremy wasn't having an easy time either. My absence 24/7 was the least of his problems. I snapped the diary lying on my legs closed and looked judgingly into his green eyes. I wouldn't last long, I knew, but I could at least throw a couple of cold daggers with my eyes before giving in to his manners and charm.

"I had a feeling." He shrugged.

Sign number one that Stefan had stopped being my best friend a long time ago.

"You had a feeling?" I mocked, though my heart had missed couple of beats. "So, I didn't ruin your date. You ruined your date. Who was it?"

"She was just a girl from my history class. I think she was more interested in my car, though."

Stefan and his riches. Stefan and his green eyes. Stefan and his gentle smile. Stefan and those sinfully perfect abs, which should not– under any circumstances – belong to a seventeen year old boy. Yeah, those simple sentences summarized the reason he was the hottest piece of ass in Mystic Falls, perfectly.

No one knew him inside out like I did, though. I was too proud of the fact and I had every reason to be.

"And you were only interested in what she physically had to offer, or you wouldn't have sabotaged your date."

"Hey!" he threw his arms around me, the moment a soft breeze gave me the slightest of shivers. That felt good.

Sign number two that Stefan had stopped being my best friend a long time ago.

"I didn't sabotage anything. If you must know, I thought she was interesting. I'm just too good of a person to leave my best friend sulking in the town's cemetery."

"But you weren't sure I was here."

"Irrelevant."

"You just had a feeling."

"Honestly, I wanted to show off my car. It still is a sweet birthday present, don't you think?"

I shook my head and stared into his eyes. "You really are too good of a person."

He knew what I was going through. He knew I missed my parents, more than anything. He was there for me, silently, never mentioning them or making me feel uncomfortable - and not just because our families were old friends and we used to bath in the same kiddie pool. This was who Stefan was – warm, considerate, gentle. He was there for people. Even though the people mentioned – said, I – had been refusing to move on and let go of their grief for two years.

"Elena." He hugged me closer and I let him. "I need you to stop spending your precious time in this cemetery, listening to Placebo and writing."

"Why?" Some suicidal music never hurt anybody.

"Because, it's been two years they've been gone Elena." He motioned to the graves in front of us and I shivered in sadness. "Plus, little reminder, it's our senior year."

"I'm not going to the stupid prom."

He rolled his eyes and captured my brown eyes with his green gaze. "Not the point. Though I'm sure Donovan would kill to take you." I hated how he didn't look the bit annoyed that someone else liked me. "What I mean is… I'm heading to NYU next year."

"You are?"

The pain in my voice was definitely the ultimate sign showing that he'd stopped being my best friend a long time ago.

"Yes. And you're coming with me."

"Am I, now?"

God, the happiness! It almost felt wrong, being that happy in front of my parents' dead bodies, but I couldn't help it.

He nodded silently and gave me one of his most exquisite smiles. "Did you think I'd leave you behind? All you have to do is stop coming here, complete the application forms with me and before you know it – NY baby."

Yes, I'd definitely fallen in love with Stefan. And I knew I was too much of a coward to ever admit it or do something about it.

"I can see it. I can definitely see it. You'll take being smart, rich and single to the next lever and I'll perfect the art of being lonely and a loser."

He gave me a soft punch. "I'll make sure to find you an equally smart, rich and attractive guy to sweep you off your beautiful feet. As for the loneliness – if you would just update your mp3's playlist…"

I didn't want another smart, rich guy. I wanted the one who called my feet beautiful. The one I'd never get, probably.

"I will never listen to Depeche Mode, Stefan."

"Suit yourself." He stood on his feet and extended his arm to me. "Do we have a deal, Gilbert?"

I threw one last, lingering look at the graves lied in front of me – a place I knew I'd miss in the future – and grabbed his hand. This was also the day I first sacrificed something in my life, just to be in Stefan's presence.

"Deal." I said. "But you have to promise me one thing. We go together, we stick together. Don't go running after some blonde bimbo, the first chance you get."

"Oh, Elena." he pulled me into his arms and chuckled. "You know you're my number one girl. Always have, always will."

There it was. That was it – the moment. As I sit in my desk, staring absently at the computer screen - recalling one of my most cherished memories for what seems like the hundredth time today - I can't help but sigh. Some things never change. I am twenty four years old, employed, independent, decent looking and a permanent coward when it comes to Stefan. I've been doing quite a good job ignoring and hiding and fighting my feelings for the past seven years, if you ask me. I've been a good friend and we've had times to be envied.

Oh, and, every day, I've loved him some more.

"Brooding over your unrequited yet eternal love again?"

Bonnie's remark causes me to jump on my sit. I hope the look I give her mirrors how annoyed I am that she interrupted my self-loathing.

"Why do I trace hints of irony in your voice?" I mutter lowly. Isobel – our typical New York boss – is giving hell to someone in her office. Bonnie and I, repeatedly neglecting our chores and duties, are way too happy we're not facing Isobel, yet unable to hold off the gossip and accusations of each other's life choices.

"Because, Miss Bitch in there" she points at Isobel's office discreetly "has hired us to work, not fantasize over best friends and waste our brain potential."

Our desks face each other and no one else can tell we're having one of our typical fights, unless they're trying to overhear; which, in this particular business and office, happens all the time. Good thing I don't care what any of these fuckers think anyway, because Bonnie's words earn a snort from my side of the table.

"You know, that sentence, coming from a girl who burns brain cells stalking her two year crush through Facebook, doesn't mean anything to me." I point out and she sticks her tongue out.

"Seven years beat two years, every time."

Just when I open my mouth to rant about how I at least talk and spend the majority of my time with Stefan, Anna speeds her way from the bathroom in the desk next to mine – face cool and amused. She's small, witty and incredibly cute – easily one of my favorite people.

"Wow, Isobel just won't let go of her 'fire someone every day' tradition. I got a glance of what's going on in there – poor Harper looks like he's about to faint." While taking a sip from her Starbucks coffee, she lets her eyes wander between the two of us and an even bigger smile plants itself on her face.

"You haven't started working on the new project, have you?" Bonnie and I gawk, faces shocked. Anna chuckles. "You don't even know we've been assigned a new project! Seriously, guys, you need to stop it with all the relationship drama you've got going on. I really don't want to be Monday's person to be fired."

"Right." I mutter, collecting my thoughts. I'd have to find another time to recall all my memories with Stefan and figure out when was it that my life started going downhill. Work hours are not the time to do that. I'd do it when I was home alone – me and my fifty consolation cats.

"So, what's this assignment about?" Bonnie asks and having taken the same decision as me, I see her log out of Facebook and smile a little.

"It's nothing huge. The three of us have to choose a model for the new underwear advertisement. "

"And that, girls, is why I love my job." Bonnie exclaims and the three of us smile deviously.

Having majored in journalism and not being able to find a job to practice my promising skills is one of my biggest disappointments. Second on my list actually – the first one being the seven years I've witnessed Stefan hit it on with numerous girls that weren't me. Anyhow, this job – leaving Bitchy Isobel aside – was the second best thing I could find. Do I get to write? No. Do I get to participate in major NY events and feel important? No. What I get to do is spend huge amounts of time with Bonnie and Anna, looking through various male models' profiles and pick the best of them for NY's biggest advertising firms. Now, I know this isn't very mature of us, but, just like Anna likes to think – when life gives you lemons, suck out all the vitamin C and yell 'EAT THAT, LIFE!'

And that's what we do. We don't take things very seriously, the three of us. Bonnie's dream was to become a doctor, yet here she is. Anna's was to travel the world and try extreme sports but it didn't happen. And all I've ever wanted was a topic to write for and Stefan by my side. What I got was this job and Stefan's unwavering friendship. It is what it is, I guess. We're stuck here; we might as well enjoy the world's most good-looking models in the process.

"I hope you still love it after nine-hundred pictures. It's for Calvin Klein – huge deal. They want a new face."

Anna places a huge pile of pictures on her desk and smiles apologetically. As if it's her fault we're going to spend another Friday night in one of our apartments, admiring faces we'll never get to see and missing what we really want.

"Girl please, I'll never get tired of this." Bonnie smiles. Wow, we're too miserable.

"Did Isobel mention any special criteria for the model?" I ask, my tone all business. I know us and I know our work pace. We get too lazy after the first photos and drag the work on for days. Thank God for the weekend ahead of us. "Hair color, background, measurements…? I hate it when we think we've found the perfect fit and she just frowns and picks someone on her own."

"She just handed me the pile and ordered: 'I want him to be perfect!'" Anna mimics Isobel's low, irritating voice and rolls her eyes. "So, to answer your question, no special criteria other than perfection."

"Ok, let's divide perfection here into equal bits and start exploring."

I put about three-hundred of the photos on my desk and Bonnie does the same. They're all printed in A4 format – photo of the model up front, general information on the back. When I've seen about twenty of them – spotting nothing extraordinary yet – Isobel's heels click on the floor and come to stand in front of our desks. Her jet black hair is gathered on a tight pony tail and her face is perfectly covered with foundation – no imperfection surfacing. She's all dressed in black and even though she's smiling, her eyes are cold and hard.

"You've started. Good. Any progress yet?"

She can clearly see how little we've advanced and her voice is dripping irony. Her eyes stay on Anna – her least favorite employee – before starting to back away. "I want the best model's photo on my desk by Monday. And he better be perfect, or one of you girls ends up unemployed."

She flashes us a terrifying smile and makes her way around the work place, terrorizing anyone who dares to talk.

"I guess we're having a sleepover then. You guys can come over to my place, until we find Mr. Perfect." I sigh and throw a hateful look on the picture I'm holding. The guy's pretty good looking, but his hands are way too big. Sorry, next.

Couple of hours later and as we're getting ready to head home, my phone rings. I stare at the screen carefully – no one calls me. Not unless they want to share amazing news about their amazing lives – news that most of the time shit on my life. One look at the caller's ID lets me know I once again got it right. I grab the phone and stare at the name in horror.

"Guys," I swallow hard and throw terrified glances at Bonnie and Anna, who are both waiting for me to grab my bag so we can leave, "it's Caroline."

Anna sighs and throws herself back on the chair. Bonnie crosses her arms over her chest and gives me one of her looks. "Well, answer the damn phone Elena. Get it over with."

I breathe in deeply, my mind blank and my heartbeats rapidly increasing, and press Answer.

"Hey Caroline." I whisper.

"Elena!" Her excited tone makes me flinch. "Why are you whispering, is everything ok?"

The worst part is, she's actually a decent person.

"It's all good. So, what's up?"

"Pretty much everything." Her bubbly laugh fills my ears and I need to close my eyes in order to relax. "We'll share over dinner."

"Caroline, I can't. I really have to work tonight." I know my excuse won't work, but I try either way. The fact that she said 'we' is already giving me a headache.

"Nonsense! We don't have to go anywhere nice. I'll call Stefan – you can meet us at the small Chinese restaurant you love so much. Wear sweatpants if you want to. Just come at eight, ok?"

Shit, shit, shit! "Ok…"

"Ok! I can't wait. See you tonight sweetie. Love you, bye!"

She hangs up before I can answer and I'm left holding the phone in limp hands. "She wants – no, they want – to share some news over dinner." I state, to no one in particular.

"This is too fucked up." Anna breaths and comes to grab my elbow so we can move towards the door. The fact that I can't make my body move right now, says a lot.

Bonnie, following behind with the photo-filled box in her arms, has gone back to judging the entire situation. I know she only does it because she cares for my well-being but sometimes all I want is for her to take my hand and be there for me, silently; which is never the case.

"Just, please, keep it short Elena. Some of us don't have the luxury of being Caroline and Stefan and need to actually work. You included."

You know that expression: same shit, different day? My life summed up in four words.

3 Years Ago

Caroline looked up from the huge book in her hands and gave me an evil smirk. Sharing a dorm room with her never got boring or irritating – after all, she had become my best friend. We'd known each other for a month now, but her bubbly self and radiating warmness had won me over immediately.

"It strikes me as weird that you and Stefan have never tried being more than just friends."

"Oh, and why is that?" I smiled, without removing my eyes from the computer screen. I had to write a twenty-five page essay for my Creative Writing class.

"You've been describing him as this amazingly good-looking, noble, gentle, rare human being that cares about you enough to take you all the way to New York with him." She stated that matter of factly, as if it was enough to make a point; which it was, only I couldn't admit it.

"We've been best friends forever Caroline. Being in each other's lives comes naturally. It's one of the rare things I'm good at."

I heard her laugh and snap her book closed. "I don't believe in boy-girl friendship. I mean, come on, we've both watched 'When Harry met Sally'. Either way, I can't wait to meet him."

I didn't get too freaked out by her impatience. After all, she was dating a certain Tyler. It was just Caroline – always ready to meet people and make either best friends or sworn enemies; there was no middle way when it came to her. A soft knock on the door signaled Stefan's arrival after two months of vacation with his family in Europe. They'd asked me to join them, but I'd half-heartedly denied. I needed a few months by myself to set new ground rules and figure out a way to keep from jumping on Stefan every time I saw him.

I jumped out of my sit, my essay completely forgotten, and run to open the door. The moment I opened it, I faced the biggest challenge of my life that far. He looked so breathtakingly kissable, I had to mentally fight my body to not throw my arms around his neck and assault his lips. Europe had tanned him. He was taller, broader; his green eyes glinting, his smile assuring, his hair perfect, his stand cool and Hollywood-like. He was wearing a simple, white T-shirt and tight jeans.

I shouted and threw myself in his embrace. He welcomed me whole-heartedly and breathed me in. My legs snuck around his waist and my hands rested on each side of his perfect face. "Welcome back. I missed your stupid face."

He kissed my nose and my cheeks and took a step inside my room. "I missed you too, Gilbert. Europe sucked without you."

"I bet it did." I laughed and lowered my body to the ground. I let another moment pass before turning to Caroline, who was staring at us with a huge smile. She already liked him – it wasn't a wonder; everyone liked him. "Stefan, this is Caroline – new roommate and best friend."

The smiles on both of their faces were disturbing. I got what was happening the moment I saw them shake hands, but it was already too late. "It's very nice to meet you." Stefan said, completely meaning it.

"You too." Caroline whispered and blushed.

They kept looking at each other and I stood between them awkwardly, trying to convince myself that his interest in her, just like in everyone else, would wear off eventually. It had to!

"Well, get dressed Elena. We're going out." I nodded and tried to relax. It was nothing – the spark between them was nothing. Caroline was already in a relationship and Stefan would soon be very busy with his last year of college. If they just didn't see each other for a while, I had nothing to worry about.

"Caroline, do you want to join us?" I heard him ask and frowned deeply.

"I'd love to." She said simply and grabbed her bag. She was already looking perfect in her short jeans and red shirt.

"Weren't you supposed to be meeting Tyler tonight?" I mentioned as nonchalantly as I could.

"We broke up, actually. He was cheating on me with a Jules-something."

I turned around just in time to catch Stefan smile a little predatory smirk and I rolled my eyes. With some luck, this would all be over the moment he got in her panties. I could live with that. I'd been leaving with that for four years now. "Ok, let's go."

Caroline moved ahead of us and while I was locking the door, Stefan breathed in my ear, "There's something about her, don't you think?"

The clock strikes seven-thirty and pulls me from yet another painful memory. I stare at the floor, where we've spread all the photos that have occupied our entire evening. There are a hundred more left, and we still haven't found what we're looking for. When Isobel asked for perfection, you gave her what she wanted or you got your ass fired. And the men we'd gone through this far were all too good, but none was good enough. I feel like screaming. At least the Chinese restaurant I love so much is on the first floor of my building – no need to rush for the dinner that will probably be one big, fat disappointment.

"You should get ready." Anna says without looking up from the photo she's holding. "We'll take care of what's left."

I sigh and get my miserable ass up. "Use my bed if it gets late and you're tired. I don't think I'll be using it tonight." I drag my feet in my bedroom and throw on a simple, black T-shirt and worn-out jeans. I find the biker-boots Caroline hates – your feet look huge in them! – and put them on. I hear Bonnie breathing behind me so I grab my leather jacket and turn to face her.

"You look like shit." She states. "You're beautiful, as always, but you kind of look like shit."

"I'm just bracing myself for the lovely time I'm about to have." I mutter sarcastically and try to move outside the room. She blocks the entrance with her body.

"Why do you do this to yourself, Elena? Why can't you just give him up already?"

"Because I love him." I roll my eyes at her ignorance.

"No, you're obsessed with him. There's a difference." She takes my hand and squeezes. "This isn't healthy. Anna's right – way too fucked up."

"What am I supposed to do Bonnie?" I shout, revolted. She'll never get it.

"You either tell him the truth or you let him go, Elena!"

"I can't tell him the truth. Not anymore. It would just ruin everything – him, his life." I stubbornly shake my head.

"But this is ruining you!" Her eyes beg mine to get what she's saying and part of me does, but it still doesn't change anything. It is what it is.

"I don't care, Bonnie. As long as he's happy, I can take it."

She mutters 'bullshit' under her breath and rejoins Anna on the floor. I leave the apartment without looking back.

"Elena!" I see Caroline waving at me and make my way to our table. Both of them are there, next to each other and holding hands. No matter how much time passes, I'll never get used to the image.

She gives my hip a playful punch from where she's sitting and Stefan gets up to take me in his embrace. He kisses my cheek and flashes a genuine smile. If he wasn't a lawyer, I would have probably asked him to be the model of the stupid advertisement. He truly looks good.

"How was your day beautiful?" he asks, as I sit down. I pick some of the noodles they've already ordered for me and force myself to eat.

"It was another pointless day where I accomplished absolutely nothing." They both laugh at my words and I roll my eyes. After two years of being in a committed relationship, they've kind of picked each other's habits. Or better say – Caroline has picked up our habits. But you know, potatoes, tomatoes; who cares? "But I guess you two are about to turn my day from boring to eventful."

I look at them and they both smile. I start tapping my foot on the floor and fight back a scream. They need to spill whatever it is out already. The anticipation is killing me.

Caroline, thankfully, decides to enlighten me. "Elena. Stefan and I are engaged!"

Don't cry. Don't fucking cry. Say something and ask for alcohol and don't you dare cry!

"Wow, you guys! I don't know what to say…"

"Congratulations would be nice." Stefan smiles, his eyes studying my expression. I compose my face to a huge smile, scared that his deep knowledge of my character will betray my true feelings. My muscles ache when I try to curl my lips upwards.

"Congratulations! I'm really happy for the both of you."

I reach out and hug them. I try to keep my heartbeat steady and convince myself that I'll have plenty of time to cry over this when I get home. Right now, I need alcohol.

I sit back on my seat and look disappointed.

"I thought we were celebrating. Where's the booze?" I give Stefan an incredulous look and he flinches.

"I can't Elena, I'm driving."

Too responsible for his own good, this boy. "Oh, come on, you only get engaged once. You're not fooling me with noodles Stefan."

He looks defeated. "Fine; I'll go get us booze."

He gets up and makes his way to the bar and Caroline gives me a grateful smile. "I was begging him for some alcohol earlier. Thank God I've got you to make up his mind for everything!"

Yeah, and thank God I've got you to marry the man I love.

When, four hours later, I finally enter my apartment, everything except from the blood rushing in my veins is quiet. I stumble on some shoes lined up next to the door and curse under my breath. A considerable amount of alcohol has a way of making a person trip on rather flat surfaces. And I've had more than a considerable amount. I flick the living room's light open and look around at the mess. Bonnie and Anna are nowhere to be seen, but I can hear their breathing from inside my room.

The photos are still scattered around the floor, but I spot two lying on the table. Now trying to ignore the reason I'm drunk and desperate, I fill a glass with Vodka and sit on a chair. I take one of the two photos in my hands and stare at the general information. Name: Mason Lockwood. Age: 25. Eye color: Blue. Under the long list, Bonnie has scribbled something in red marker. Nice ass. Cute smile. Eyes to kill for. We might have found our model.

I giggle lightly and turn the photo around. The guy really is good looking. His body is perfectly muscled and toned – his hands the right size. A photo of his back confirms Bonnie's note about his ass. He stares straight to the camera smiling; his eyes are warm and there's a gap between his front teeth that makes him even more adorable. Indeed, we might have found our model.

I take the other photo in my hands and sigh. From all the men I've seen, leaving Stefan's perfection aside – which I shouldn't be thinking of – this Mason guy really is the best candidate so far. I doubt anyone could beat him; they don't get any better. I read the general info. Name: Damon Salvatore. Age: 26. I skip everything else and read Anna's note at the end. Sorry Mason, but this is our guy. P.S. this kind of sinful perfection shouldn't exist. Hehe.

I turn the photo around. The man staring back at me has me finishing my Vodka to help swallow the lump in my throat. I frown – his photo isn't even professional. He's not naked and posing for the camera, like every other model we've seen. The picture is very random; someone has had the inspiration to capture him walking down the street, in a simple black T-shirt and low-cut jeans. He's wearing boots like mine and smirking at his admirer mindlessly. No matter what, his perfection is still very much visible. I don't know if it's the alcohol or hurt I'm feeling, but I find myself admitting he's beautiful – more than Stefan, more than anyone I've ever seen. I don't feel guilty; a fact is a fact.

I look at the photo closely. His blue, piercing eyes put Mason's to shame. His smirk radiates charm and wittiness and confidence. It lets you know he's a man you'd be lucky to meet. Shirt or no shirt – or freaking dress for that matter – you can tell his body is perfect. His skin is pale and contrasts his jet black, longish, messy hair. And I bet his walk screams swagger. I stare at the picture for what seems like ages. The quality of the picture doesn't matter – Isobel will be thrilled with him. She'll jump up and down in pleasure. Hell, she'll probably promote us or something. Because this guy – Damon Salvatore – is the kind of man that can charm any woman with as much as a wink of his eye.

Any woman.

The thought comes and goes rapidly. I run after it and keep it in place – playing with the concept for a while. I blame the alcohol for finding the stupid plan – yes, it's already a plan – so amusing. This isn't me. I'm a push over. I've been a push over my entire life. I could never pull through something like that and expect my life to get better. Because, the kind of drama games like that cause, only lead to bullshit.

Not like every logical decision you've been making hasn't. Here I am, alone and miserable, pinning over my engaged best friend and hating on his fiancé, who is my equally good friend. Good friend my ass. Was she my good friend, she would have known – she would have been able to tell how much I love Stefan. She's only thought of herself. All she ever does is think of herself; she's just like every other gold digger that only wants Stefan for his money and social status. I can so easily prove it.

I stare at the photo in my hands some more and grab my phone. If I weren't completely sure that Stefan and I belong together, I wouldn't do this – alcohol or no alcohol. But I am – I've been sure for years – and now the alcohol only serves as a motivator. I check the clock. It's past midnight, but this is New York. And Damon's face is way too beautiful to be wasted on sleep. I form his number and, allowing no hesitation or second thoughts, press Call.

It rings twice before a very awake, very sexy voice answers. "Hello?"

I briefly wonder if the guy has any flows but then I smirk. Probably everything else about him, except his appearance, is flawed. "Damon Salvatore?" I try to sound confident and sure of myself.

"Yes?"

"I'm calling from Isobel Fleming's model agency - about the Calvin Klein underwear advert."

"What about it?"

I hear music playing from his side of the phone and I find myself irritated. Here are his first flaws – cocky and probably a lazy-ass.

"You did send your picture, didn't you?"

I hear him chuckle and answer lazily. "Yes, so I did."

"Well, congrats. You got the job."

"Great." I trace humor in his voice and the level of music increases.

"I need to meet you tomorrow and talk about…details. You live in New York, right?"

"Yes." What's up with this guy and the one-word answers? I want to scream at his ear, but that wouldn't be the best way to make my little plan happen.

"I'll text you the place where we can meet, then. Don't be late. Goodnight."

"Night."

He hangs up and I growl to the phone. As I'm still very drunk, I gather the strength to do the next stupid thing of my overall ridiculous plan. I take Mason's picture and with the red marker, jot down a few lines under Bonnie's words. We want a person, not a freaking Brad Pitt. Mason's ass is perfect for the underwear add. I'm all for him.

I fall on the couch and, before letting my brain drift off into unconsciousness, I let my eyes wander at Damon's face. "You, Damon Salvatore will save my stupid, horrible, life. You hear me?"

A/N: Some clarifications. Stefan and Damon aren't related in this story. Neither are Elena and Isobel.

Share your thoughts, by reviewing. If you feel like it. Yours, S.