A/N: Hey! Thank you so, so much for the reviews on the first chapter, it means so much! Here's the next chapter, as promised! I hope you enjoy!

TW: Rape and mentions of drugs, please don't read if you are triggered by those subjects.

2: Numb

Elena Gilbert was drunk. And it was safe to say the alcohol was definitely clouding her better judgement. Somehow she had made her way into the dance floor with her blue-eyed stranger and was letting him grind on her. And she didn't want to admit it but she was actually kind of enjoying it. The feel of his hands on her hips as he held her close, moving to the beat and her back pressed firmly against his hard chest. She closed her eyes and let the music take her, actually letting go for the first time in longer than she could remember. But she didn't like to lose control, because she knew once she had lost it, it was near impossible to get back. And right here, right now she was slowly slipping further and further away.

But when Elena felt Damon's hot breath against her ear, she just sank into his embrace, throwing her head back revelling in the hot sensation he sent soaring through her body, her heart rate quickening by the second.

Then with the very last bit of determination left within her, she broke free, pushing the raven haired man away and clambering towards the balcony in search of air. Once outside, she gripped against the railing, breathing heavily, her knuckles turning white. The city lights were bright and the air crisp, but the more she looked, the more the lights blurred. She desperately tried to gain focus, but it was no use. She was wasted and it definitely had something to do with the blue eyed man that had come to stand behind her.

"I just needed some air." The brunette murmured, feeling Damon's hands on her hips. Her breath hitched in her throat and she turned around in his grip.

Elena stood between his legs, relying entirely on him to keep her balance. She looked into his eyes, her breathing only growing more rapid. His eyes looked dark as he gazed down at her as she wet her lips. She bit her lip, his scent filling her nose, rich and musky. Every nerve in her being was screaming at her to run, to return to the safe confines of her room, those four walls that were entirely her own, lock the door and not come back out. But she didn't. She couldn't. She was frozen to this very spot in the grips of this very gorgeous stranger who was doing things to her that she couldn't explain.

"Stop looking at me like that..." She eventually spoke, slightly uncomfortable with the situation and far too drunk. She didn't to do anything she would regret and with this amount of alcohol in her system, and the odds of doing so were very high if he didn't remove his hands from her very soon.

He smirked at her, his darkened eyes staring soulfully into hers. "Like what?" He asked almost too innocently. He brought his face closer to hers until their lips were only millimetres apart, their breath mingling between them. "How am I looking at you, Elena?" His voice was deeper, huskier, as her name rolled off his tongue, their lips almost brushing as he did so.

"You know what you're doing." She mumbled, feeling his breath against her lips. This whole situation was so wrong. This wasn't her at all. Not anymore, anyway. But Damon was directly in front of her, pressed against her body and everything else but the two of them seemed to disperse into nothing.

His signature smirk, that she had become accustomed to over the course of the evening was in place as his voice dropped to a husky murmur, "Yeah?" His breath fanned over her face as he spoke and he resisted the urge to wet his lips. His hands were still on her waist, holding her upright and prisoner, his legs encasing her in his hold. Damon wanted nothing more than to lean in those last few millimetres and kiss her.

She bit her lip. Her heart was beating double time and her breaths were heavy and uneven. She couldn't think straight with the alcohol in her system and everything was happening too fast. She parted her lips a little, still not moving from his firm grip. "Damon..." she mumbled before he placed his lips on hers.

Damon's hands moved, circling Elena's waist as he brought her flush against him, his mouth claiming hers as he kissed her softly, his lips moving against hers. His brain was alcohol filled; he too had drank more than his fill tonight and his every thought was on this gorgeous brunette and her soft as satin lips against his. He smoothly deepened the kiss until he felt as though he was drowning in her.

She leaned into his frame, her arms wrapped around his neck and her hands feeding into his hair. His lips felt so soft against hers, she forgot about what she was doing. She felt his tongue run across her lip and parted them a little, tasting whiskey and smoke as his tongue massaged against her own. Damon pulled her closer, her body arching toward him as he continued to kiss her, running his fingers up her sides until she pulled away very suddenly.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his brow creasing as he looked into her eyes, trying to claim her lips once more. She pulled away, taking a few steps away from him, unsteady on her feet.

"I'm sorry.." She whispered, avoiding his gaze and fleeing from the balcony. She ran, her head spinning, from the kiss and the drink and found herself in the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Now she was alone, she broke. Tears ran down her cheeks in gut wrenching sobs as she slid down the door onto the floor, hugging her knees tightly as her body trembled. She tried desperately to grasp control of herself but she was too far gone. Everything that she had kept tightly bottled up for so long was now spilling out everywhere and she didn't know what to do to stop it.

Suddenly the alcohol decided not to agree with her and she found herself scrambling towards the toilet, heaving, followed by throwing up everything she had drank. Thick tears flowed down her cheeks, leaving black mascara stains.

A knock on the door startled her before the door clicked open. Damon appeared, observing the sight before him; the brunette he had been kissing moments earlier was now hunched over the toilet bowl, a sobbing mess. He scratched his head awkwardly, debating on whether he should just leave her be, but something within him told him he just couldn't. He sighed and reached down and scooped her up, attempting to steady her on her feet, but to no avail, allowing her to lean her full body weight on him.

"Come on, let's get you home." He sighed, leading her out of the bathroom. "Where do you live?" He asked, dreading the task of getting a drunk girl that could hardly walk, home.

"There." She slurred, lifting her hand sluggishly and pointing to her room.

"Ah, convenient." He mused, more to himself. He pushed open the door to her room and lifted her body onto her bed, followed by her feet, carefully removing her shoes. "I'm going to get you some water, I'll be back in a moment." And he left, letting the door click shut behind him.

Elena slowly undid her belt and wiggled out of her jeans, a task that was much more difficult than usual when you were drunk and laying down but she eventually managed, just as Damon returned with a glass of water. She was aware that she was only in her tank top and underwear but she didn't seem to care, her lashes still wet with tears. She curled into a ball, feeling awful. Her body was overcome with tiredness and she didn't want to be drunk anymore. Suddenly drinking didn't seem like such a good idea after all. Damon placed the glass of water down on her night stand and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to work out when his night of partying had turned into this; looking after a drunk crying girl. He frowned, tucking her up in bed.

"Are you going to be okay now?" He asked, brushing her hair back soothingly.

She cracked her eyes open, looking up at him gazing down on her. "Can you stay with me please?" She managed to mumble, lifting her head slightly. "I still feel sick..." If she felt this close to death now, god knows how she would be in the morning.

She felt the bed shift as Damon sat on it and brushed a few hairs out of her face. Her eyes were heavy as she tried to drift off to sleep, desperately willing the room to stop spinning.

Damon lifted his legs onto the bed, laying back on top of the covers fully clothed. This was so not him, so why the hell was he compelled to stay with the brunette he had spent the most of the night with? Well, he had actually had fun for once. Until the whole throwing up incident, anyway. Usually his nights would consist of finding the hottest girl in the room, dancing with her all night and taking her home at the end of the night and well, that had been his plan tonight too. But there was something about this girl that intrigued him.

Eventually Elena's breathing steadied out in a rhythmic pattern as she drifted off to sleep and Damon stayed, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest as the bright city lights shone through the window, highlighting the delicate features of her face as he gently stroked her hair.

Elena's eyes shot open, but suddenly she wasn't in her dorm room anymore. Her eyes gazed across the room that had once been all too familiar to her. Her bed, where she was laying, was squeezed into the corner of her tiny box room, the walls lay bare, fading green paint peeling off the walls. The dull thudding beat of music could be heard in the distance. She felt awful, her eyes red and sore from crying and her head spinning from everything she had taken that night. Pills, cocaine and god knows what else. Her body felt numb but she was wide awake.

Suddenly the door opened and a figure stood looming in the doorway.

"There you are, El." A gruff voice spoke. "I missed you earlier." He sneered.

The figure stepped towards her, sitting on the bed, causing the whole thing to creak. Elena froze, her whole body turning rigid as he ran his fingers down her cheek, stopping on her bottom lip.

"Not going to speak to me, huh? I see how it is. I thought you might like my company now Ben is gone."

She shook at his words but then he stood up and Elena let out a breath realising he was about to leave.

But he didn't.

He stayed.

He undid his belt.

He unzipped his fly and pulled her sheet away, ripping her underwear down and climbed on top of her.

She tried with all her might to push him away but he was too strong for her small feeble frame.

"I've always wanted to fuck you." He spoke menacingly. "And now, you're mine."

Grabbing her wrists and pinning her arms down beside her so she couldn't escape, he whispered into her ear. "Don't you bother to scream. No one will hear you. It's all just a bit of fun. Don't you like to have fun, El?"

And he forced himself into her.

Elena didn't scream. She didn't cry, she just lay there, willing it to be over. She didn't even cry when he gripped her wrist so hard she felt something pop, the searing pain overwhelming her.

It was only when he left that the tears came, silently streaming down her face into her pillow. Everything was a fog, a blur and she laid there all night awake, trying to analyse what had just taken place.

Silent.

Numb.

So, we might have seen a little snippet into Elena's past there. And can we just take a minute to appreciate sweetheart Damon. Swoon.

Anyway, please review and tell me what you think and the next chapter will follow soon!

-P x