"Sun's up, in a few hours." It felt good to stretch in the lobby. "I need to find somewhere to spend the night."

"Why?"

"Hello? Suckiest part about being a vampire? Sun?" I looked down at my ring. "Are you a day walker?"

"I have a daylight ring, yes."

"Really."

"I know a witch." I looked around the lobby. I was hungry. "Knew. I knew a witch."

"Lucky."

"I need to eat."

"Maybe I'll run into you, one day."

"What do you mean?"

"Have fun exploring Rome, Elena. I know when I'm not wanted." I opened my mouth to reply. "Or needed. I'll see you."

"Maybe."

"I owe you a plane ticket, remember."

I smiled. "I won't forget."

When I turned, she was already gone.

I walked around for a while, still inside the airport, and finally came around some kind of convenience store.

"Do you speak English?" I asked the lady running the register.

"Yes."

"Do you accept American money?"

"No, ma'am."

"Know where I can exchange some?"

"There is an office, near the entrance. But here." She pulled a little book out from behind the counter. "Take this."

"Thanks."

"Prego."

I started with twenty five hundred dollars and ended up getting little more than eighteen hundred euros. The exchange rate bit me.

"Grazie," I said, when she decided to wave the exchange fee.

It was still dark, when I left.

I slunk into a dark alleyway, not seeing anything, and waited until someone passed me in my shadow.

I tasted, but she was clean. No vervain. I drank just enough, and made her forget. Ever since the council laced the water with vervain, I was nervous about strangers and vervain.

Then I traveled west. I took buses and taxis and hitchhiked until I reached the coast. It took me all day and into the night. I was pointed to a hostel.

I woke up hungry and grungy.

I walked around and paused at every shop, using my little book.

Grocery. Food. Drink. Bank. Clothes. Breakfast. Lunch. Coffee. Tea.

Room.

Rent?

I went up and knocked on the door.

I looked okay; I just felt gross.

I repeated the words on the sign to her, probably butchering them, but she nodded. "For rent?"

She led me down a little hallway, not wide enough to be legal in the US, and to a little room. It had a little bed, a little couch, a little table, a sink, an under counter fridge, and a two burner stove top. The bathroom was just as little.

But clean.

'How much' was too complicated. "Costo?"

"Settanta."

It was hard to remember the numbers. Seven. Seventy? I gave her a fifty dollar eruo note and a twenty. "Settanta?"

"Sì."

I looked up the word for towel and almost cried. I showed it to her.

She held up her hand. "Cinque."

I gave her five more dollars. She left and came back with my towel.

And a key. Two keys. One for my door, the other for the outside door.

"Grazie."

She nodded and walked off.

Grocery.

I didn't need food, but I needed toiletries. Shampoo and conditioner, soap, toothbrush and toothpaste, sunglasses.

Another shop, without a sign, and it had clothes.

I got a pack of underwear and socks, another skirt and shirt, a new pair of shoes, and a pair of shorts. Just like in the grocery store, she tried to tell me how much. She gave up, frustrated, and showed me the total.

"Grazie."

Showered, and in clean clothes, I felt much better.

It was warm.

Hot.

Nice. It meant I was normal temperature. But it also meant drinking a cold drink would make me colder, so I opted for a coffee.

I sat at a table outside, watching people for hours.

A boy, across the street at a restaurant, caught my eye. He was blonde, with a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and tan, tan skin.

He couldn't stop looking at me, either.

I got up, walking around again. I made my way down to the beach, and sat on a low wall, watching the sun set. It was… beautiful.

After dark fully set, I waited another hour before sneaking out. I followed a map to a hospital. I only had to compel two men, and I let my nose lead me to the blood bank. I drank one, right there, and disposed of it. I took three more, then a fourth. Back at my little place, I put them in dark water bottles. Not as good as the real thing, but it'd have to do. I wasn't planning on staying in Italy long enough to learn how their law system worked, and the language barrier would always suck.

-x-

I woke to a very annoying knocking.

It was the landlady.

Very annoying. I got up, and opened the door, but I had no idea what she was saying.

"She wants your towel." I looked around her to a little boy.

"Oh." I traded the used one for a clean one. "Uhm. How long do I have my room?"

They exchanged words. "One more night. But Nona says you can have it for the rest of the week for another seventy dollars."

I got her the money.

"How old are you?" I asked the little boy.

"Six."

"And you speak English and Italian?"

"And Spanish."

"Wow. Do you know any good ice creams places?"

"There's good gelato down by the beach!"

"Thank you. Grazie."

"Prego." He looked back at Nona. "I have to go."

The whole exchange took less than two minutes. It was still early, but I couldn't get back to sleep. I had some breakfast, not the human kind, and showered again.

I grabbed a human breakfast at the same coffee place, and then walked around again. I bought a flower, for my hair, and visited a little library. I toured an old church, but when I went to get gelato, I couldn't find it. I picked up a cup of coffee, and saw the server across the street again.

The next day, I was up and ready to change my towel for a new one.

I paid for a boat tour, and was really glad I did. We didn't go far, but it was a full day thing.

Blood bags weren't cutting it, but I was making due.

I got my coffee, the next morning, and then visited a street market.

I loved people watching, but it also told me that you don't touch food, you ask the person. And you don't tip.

I took my apple to the beach, and watched a lady paint.

Then I wanted lunch.

I took a somewhat daring move, and had lunch at the place across from my coffee shop.

I wasn't used to the late lunch, even though I didn't have to eat.

All throughout lunch, the waiter and I kept exchanging glances, but he was not the one serving me.

I lounged against the wall, after lunch, and waited.

Eventually, he came out.

"Ciao."

I looked over to the boy. "Ciao."

He started speaking in Italian, and then changed his mind. "I'm Antonino, but my friends call me Nino."

"Nice to meet you, Nino." He smiled. "My name is Elena."

"Elena. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

"Thank you."

"You are not from around here, are you?"

"No. Just passing through."

"Do you want to grab dinner, tonight?"

You smell too good, I wanted to say. Run. Run, run, run. "That'd be really nice."

"Really?" He sounded surprised.

I smiled. "Yes. My plans are beach, beach, more beach, and finding some good gelato."

"I know a little place. I could… show you." He smiled. "Now, if you're free."

"Are you?"

He started walking and I followed. "What brought you to Italy?"

Salvatore. When I decided to leave, Italy was the first place I could think of, and I just went with it. "Exploring." Growing. "Having a really, really nice time."

"Where have you been, so far?"

"Not far. I toured a church and went out on a boat. I went to the street market earlier today. You learn so much, just watching people."

"Really?"

"You don't tip, here. And you do not pick fruit; you let the seller do that for you." I smiled. "You like your job."

"You can tell that?"

I laughed. "Yes. And you can't keep your eyes off me."

"You're just as guilty."

I glanced at him through my eyelashes. "Yes."

"I like you, Elena. You know how to laugh."

'You know how to laugh.'

Not anymore, I don't. "Where did you grow up?"

"Just down the road. A little house with my mother and father and sisters. I wouldn't trade it for the world." You're very lucky. "And yourself?"

I followed him down a bunch of stairs. "Virginia. Just me and my brother and our parents. They, uh. Passed, a few years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you. Our aunt moved in to take care of us. Not many people would have done it. And I don't know how I would have got through without my brother."

"I love my sisters, but sometimes I wish I had a brother."

"Sometimes I wish I had a sister."

"You can borrow mine, anytime."

I laughed. "Thank you. Right now, I'm having more fun with you."

"Have you been to Rome?"

"Flew in, there. Wanted the coast, first."

"If you plan to go back, I will give you a friends' number. He can give you a tour, from a local's perspective."

"And what kind of perspective can you give me from here?"

Before we got the gelato, he led me to a lighthouse.

"Too many stairs," he said, when we got to the top. He wasn't out of breath, and, well, I wasn't. "No elevator. Not a tourist location."

"It's beautiful."

"I think so, myself." I could feel his eyes on me, though. "That is why I cannot leave like my sister has."

"How many sisters do you have?"

"Five. All older."

"Wow. Do you have any nieces and nephews, then?"

"I have two nipoti, sì. And one of my sisters is pregnant."

I sat down and just stared at the water. "Where else should I go, in Italy?"

"How long are you here for?"

"Here? Two more nights. Then I have to move on. But." I looked over and smiled. "I like it here, so… yeah. I can see myself coming back."

"Really."

"The company is wonderful." After a few more minutes, I looked over at him and smiled. "And how about that gelato?"

He smiled. "After you."

I would have loved to have time to slip away and have something to eat, but I couldn't think of a just excuse.

"Hey. So." I interrupted the silence of our gelato with my question. "Are there any great Italian bands I should listen to?"

"Too many different bands. You should just Google it."

"Google doesn't tell me your opinions."

"Premiata Forneria Marconi. Max Pezzali. Bluvertigo. Elio e le Storie Tese. Lacuna Coil. Rock, maybe pop. But most of the music I listen to is not from Italy. That's why. Google."

"Google. Alright."

"You don't have internet access, do you?"

"Nope."

"Well. How about this. After dinner, would you like to go out? We can go out for a drink – dance. Have a nice time."

"Isn't that what we're doing now?"

He smiled. "Why are you quizzing me?"

"Not quizzing. I didn't mean to seem like that. Uh. How old are you?"

"Twenty two. Why?"

"I'm eighteen. My culture is, like, zero. I just want to… live. Experience. Have fun. Grow up. You know?"

He stood up and offered me his hand.

I took it.

"What do you want to eat?"

You. "You decide."

He took me to some little restaurant. We were led to the top of the building and were able to see… everything.

There wasn't much talking, but that was all me.

I was hungry. I was starving, and he smelled – so – good.

"It's warm," I said after dessert. He snapped out of his compulsion. "Do you think it'd be okay if I changed, before we go out?"

"You're not trying to run away from me?"

Away from, no. "No." I don't want to kill you. "It's hot. You can even come in, if you want."

"I can wait outside."

I led him down the street to the place I was staying, and let myself in to the hallway. He leaned against the wall outside my door.

Instead of grabbing my shorts, first, I went right for the fridge and chugged a bottle of blood like I'd never done before. I was drinking my second bottle when he spoke.

"It's a little place."

I wanted to smile. I was happy and I no longer wanted to kill him. But I knew the inside of my mouth was covered in blood.

"I'm not staying long." I went to the bag on my chair and grabbed a pair of shorts. When I talked, I talked away from him. Bloody teeth. "Going to brush my teeth, too." I took one more sip, and put my blood back in the fridge.

I felt loads better.

"You trust me, much," he said. He was still leaning against the wall, next to the doorway.

I would have heard you going through my things. "I've got a good sixth sense."

"I don't know what that means."

"It means, I think you're trustworthy. Come on." I grabbed his hand and dragged him out, locking the door. "Where are we going?"

-x-

I was wrong.

The bar – the club – we were at was packed. It was full of people, warm from the heat, warm from alcohol, warm from dancing, all packed into one small, little place.

It was packed with people.

With humans.

I excused myself to the bathroom, but the hallway was no better. The bathroom, however, was an immense relief. There were only a few other girls.

I took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to calm down, but found my teeth growing instead.

A girl burst into my stall, and I realized I had never fully closed the door. She dropped to the floor and was sick in the toilet. It was a strange sensation: nauseated by the sick, hungry because she smelled amazing.

When she stood up, she looked awful: awful because she was sick, and awful because she had barged in on me.

She had small features: small nose, small eyes set back in her small face, small curving eyebrows, and little lips. She was blonde: blonde, blonde, blonde, her lashes only a few shades darker than her hair.

"Shh." I pulled her in. "Don't scream." The other girls, talking, covered my whisper up, but she did as I compelled.

My teeth ached so badly that it actually hurt to drink from her, but it was well worth it.

"Shh." I couldn't stop, and I didn't want to.

I was going to kill her.

I'd only done it a few times before, and I knew the guilt would haunt me for days, weeks, but I couldn't stop.

"Adelaide?"

Somehow, I knew that was the girls name, and that was all it took to get my teeth to retract. "You're okay," I whispered, licking her neck, watching the wounds heal.

"I'm okay," she said.

"Adelaide!"

"Call to your friend," I whispered.

"Natalia." I held her to me and opened the door. "I'm sick."

She said something, and it felt calming, reassuring.

"Shh." Natalia started talking in Italian; I just shook my head. "I'm so sorry," she said, this time in English. "She normally doesn't get this drunk."

"It's okay," I said, still holding her to me. "She's clammy. Can you get her home?" I walked towards her, compelling her.

"Yes."

"Call for me, if something goes wrong."

I don't know why I said that, but it was too late to take it back.

"Yes."

The bathroom door opened again, and another girl came to help Natalia with Adelaide.

"Thank you."

I held the door for them, and made eye contact with Nino.

He exchanged words with the second girl helping Adelaide. Si. That's all I caught. Yes, something.

"What was that?" I asked.

"What was that?" he asked back, smirking.

"Sick girl ran in on me."

"Her friends were saying I have a sweet girlfriend."

I smiled. "S'cool."

"School?"

"It's cool." I smiled, and he took my hand, dragging me back on the dance floor.

- x -

After he walked me home, I waited until I knew he was gone. I waited until I heard no noises from any of the people in my building.

I remembered where the hospital was, and I remembered how to get to the blood storage.

I was in for a slightly shocking surprise.

I should have expected it, but I didn't.

Under my favorite kind of blood was a short note. I couldn't speak Italian, I couldn't understand it, and I sure couldn't read it. I flipped it over and there was English on the back.

.

'You may not believe me, but I don't know who you are and I really don't care. We're a small town and can't afford to lose more blood bags. I'll give you one more, but any more than that and I will hunt you down. But please, leave the B- blood alone.'

.

Jesus, my luck sucked. I should expect every town I visited would have a resident vampire, or at least one who looked over it. Part of me knew there weren't that many vampires, but, right now, that's what it felt like.

I snuck into a store and took a little notebook and pen. I'd have to guard it with my life, but I needed some way to keep track of the hospitals I took blood bags from. One a month, or something like that, unless it was a bigger hospital.

Or maybe I needed someone like Matt: a willing donor who would give me a mouthful or two of blood a few times a week. It wouldn't be enough, not nearly enough, but it would mean I only had to take a blood bag a week to survive. Or, maybe I could take up a Stefan-diet.

Deer sucked.

- x -

He had the lunch shift, again, the next day and then was off. He took me out for gelato again. I had mango, the first time, and chocolate this time.

"Which is better?" he asked.

"Fruit." I licked my spoon and thought. "Chocolate custard is better than chocolate gelato, that's for sure."

"You really have to leave tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"But you will come back?"

"Eventually."

"Eventually." He sounded sad.

"Within a year." Or two. Any later than that and he would notice that I wasn't getting older.

"Why not stay?"

I looked over at him. We were sitting on the sand. His knees were up, and his elbows were resting on them. Instead of looking at me, he was staring at the water. He was beautiful, and I ached even thinking about leaving him.

"You have a boyfriend, don't you?"

Yes. And no. I don't know.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't polite of me."

I was still new to this whole vampire thing. I wasn't compelling him, hadn't been the entire time except at dinner so we didn't talk… so I didn't kill him. Did I have some kind of vampire allure I wasn't aware of?

"My step-dad thinks I'm too young. To do anything, long term. I'm too young to date, too young to think of engagement and marriage. I'm too young to think of kids and settling down. But he also thinks I'm too young for more basic things. I'm too young to worry about college, right now. I'm too young to be living on my own. I'm too young to hold a job. I'm too young to have access to my parent's money, to my trust fund."

"But not too young to travel Europe on your own?"

"He's my step-dad. And I'm nineteen. Which makes me legal age, back home."

"So there is someone."

I hurt. "No." There wasn't. "My step-dad convinced him. Not me."

.

"Elena has a lot of growing up to do, Damon."

"I know that, Ric."

"I don't think you do. She's eighteen. She has her whole life in front of her, Damon. If you love her, you'll let her go. If you don't, it doesn't matter if she leaves. And if it is love, five, ten, twenty years won't make a difference – in vampire years."

I didn't need to hear more. Not from Ric. Not from Ric or Damon and Stefan or Caroline or Bonnie or anyone.

I tuned the rest of their conversation out and sat on the porch swing, waiting.

Eventually, Damon came out and saw me. I just looked at him, and made him know I heard. He sat down next to me, elbows on his knees. He couldn't even make eye contact with me.

"I'm a selfish person, Elena," he said, looking at an invisible something in his hands. "I can't be selfish with you."

"You said that, before. The first time you told me you loved me. And then you made me forget."

He said nothing.

I couldn't read which emotion I was feeling, from him, but part of it was guilt, and another part was shame. And selfishness. 'Don't go, don't go, Princess of Darkness, don't go. Don't leave me, don't go, don't go, Princess, I would break if you left, don't go, don't go, I will break.' But there was grudging acceptance, too, that, 'Ric is right, you are only eighteen, only a baby, but don't go, baby vampire, don't go, my Queen of Shadows, don't go, don't go, don't leave me.'

When he finally looked over, I was gone.

.

"Don't go."

I smiled. "Give me your address. Give me your address and I'll write you. I'll send postcards and pictures. I'll get a mailbox, somewhere, or a PO Box, and you can write me. You can tell me, when you're old enough, about your girlfriend, and your nieces and nipote."

I gave him a piece of paper and a pen. He wrote it down and stuck it in the sand.

When he finally looked over, I was gone.

-x-

I packed the few things I had and left a little thank you note on my recently made bed.

Before I left, I visited an electronics store. I got a nice, digital camera and a cell phone plan that included calling (even long distance), texting, and (unlimited) internet usage. I felt guilty, compelling them for it, and not paying, but I had nowhere near enough money for that. But now I had somewhere safer than a notebook to keep track of the hospitals I stole blood from.

AN: Nipote should mean nephew in Italian. If I butchered it, please let me know. Feel free to point out any spelling/grammatical errors, or inconsistent timelines. Any missing scenes you'd like to see/read, mention in a review. If I don't have them written, odds are I will write them.

Next chapter: Elena finds her home, we meet two friends, and find out what her plans are for the next Twenty Years.