This was supposed to be the Stefan chapter, but just like our heroes, I seem to be avoiding dealing with that at the moment! Haha!

Gosh, I really hope you enjoy this chapter.

Shall I go on? I really appreciate your reviews/thoughts. Don't hold back!

Eek.

Letting in the Light

Chapter 2: Shadows Fall

He knew he was going to regret this. He was certain he shouldn't cave in to her, but she was so distraught that doing anything right now would just be cruel. He was a hard man, but his heart was not made entirely of stone. Besides, when it came to her, judgment went pretty much out the window. Perhaps he could still compel her later on in the day, when she was calmer and they could both see things more clearly. (He didn't believe that for a second, but he tried to.)

He took her away from the window and sat her down.

"Come on now, no more tears." He used the cuff of his sleeve to wipe them away. "What we need to do, is get out of here for a bit."

She sniffed and nodded. It wasn't like her to dissolve like this, but she was just so scared he would wipe her memory she just disintegrated. To say that she was relieved now he had appeared to change his mind, didn't even begin to cover it.

They left the house by the back door and he directed her down his sloping lawn into the forest. As soon as the cool, crisp air hit their faces, their spirits rose. The path through the trees was narrow and lead downhill. She had to concentrate on her footing as her Converses weren't ideal for the pine-needle forest floor. She had asked where the path lead, but he just smiled enigmatically and said, "you'll see".

Eventually the path widened out and the forest changed from tall, domineering pines, to softer and prettier deciduous trees. In Fall it would no doubt be stunning.

They came to a ridge and finally the path was wide enough for him to be able to walk next to her. As they crested the rise, there was a break in the tree-line and she stopped to admire the view. On the horizon she saw the silver ribbon of a lake, glinting in the midday sunlight. She turned to look at him and communicated silently how beautiful it was. He smiled and continued walking. She ran to catch him up and after a moment's consideration she slipped her hand into his. He wasn't expecting that and slowed to a stop, turning to face her. She looked at him, squeezed his hand reassuringly when she found that his was shaking somewhat, (she guessed holding hands was probably new to him) and they continued to walk on in companionable silence. When the path began to narrow again, he let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulder instead, pulling her in close. He kissed her hair.

Shortly after, the land levelled out and it was clear they were coming to the lakeside. He guided her down to the shingle shore. She dropped out from under his arm to pick up a stone. She took time to select one that was fit for her purpose and then she cast it out across the still waters of the lake. It hopped three or four times before sinking. She clicked her tongue. Not good enough.

He watched as she searched a bit further afield, tucking her hair behind her ears as she concentrated on combing the shoreline for a better stone.

He had to look away; she was so exquisite, so playful and carefree in this moment, that it caused him physical pain to think of being apart from her.

She found what she was looking for and cast it out. It bounced seven times before disappearing under the surface. She skipped around to face him, with a look on her face that said 'beat that'.

He raised an eyebrow. He could so beat that.

After fifteen minutes of skimming stones (which eventually turned into just hurling bigger and bigger rocks into the water to see who could make the biggest splash), she came over to him for a soggy embrace. Naturally he won both competitions, but he did at least pretend to make it a fair fight. He stroked her hair and she looked up at him.

"I like your hair like this." He said. It was normally so neat, with a bone-straight finish, but today she had let it dry naturally and it had fallen into soft loose waves, which drifted freely in the breeze.

She gave him a hug and returned her gaze to his face. He looked very serious as he leaned down to kiss her. She slipped her hand behind his head and enjoyed the kiss, which was deep and long. The atmosphere changed, taking on an erotic charge. She stepped back, wanting to cool things down for a moment, everything was just too intense. She walked back to the waterside. He took a moment to recover, then went to join her. They began strolling along the shore and she asked him what he planned to do with the house now she had discovered it. He shook his head.

"I won't rent it out now." He said, and an unspoken thought passed between them. "I think you may have to tell your friend that it did turn out to be too good to be true after all." He smirked and she nodded her agreement.

They walked for a few minutes when they came upon an old, abandoned wooden dinghy, lying on the shore. It was missing its seat, but the interior was dry and inviting, with its blue/grey whitewash. She climbed inside and indicated for him to squeeze in next to her. He climbed in too and took her face into his hands, kissing her passionately, trying to ignore the creeping feeling that this may be his last moment with her.

He let his hands wander over her body. He flicked open the buttons of her shirt, seeking out her breasts and then squeezing her crotch through the denim of her jeans. She moaned softly in response and he nuzzled at her neck whilst working open her fly. Things got heated fast and soon she was wriggling out of the jeans. She climbed on top of him and looked down at his body, his shirt was open to the navel and her hands were pressed against his chest. He was impatient for her and gripping her panties with both hands he ripped them apart at the seams. She unzipped his fly, freeing him from the constrictive fabric. She straddled his body and guided him into her.

She began to move in a slow unhurried way, taking him deeper into her with every gyration whilst he placed his hands on her hips and let her take control. She let her hair fall over her face as she lowered her eyes to meet his. Every bit of her tingled with pleasure. She had never had sex outside before and it felt like the most natural thing in the world; or maybe what was natural to her, was who she was having it with.

He was looking at her intently and for a moment she allowed herself to see herself through his eyes. Who was this sexy 'devil-may-care' girl, with unkempt hair in her mouth and eyes, self-assuredly driving her man to distraction? She really liked the person she was when she was with him. She flung her head back and embraced the feeling.

Damon on the other hand, was falling apart. He knew he was losing himself bit by bit to her. Every second he spent in her company made it more difficult to deal with what he knew had to come.

Her head rolled back, utterly lost in the moment, exposing her navel from under her open black shirt. All he could do was take in the color of her skin, the movement of her hair, her sight of her parted lips and the scent of her - even the barely-there sound of her sighing – and imprint the whole experience in his mind, forever.

He had been holding back, but now he let himself go. She found his hands and gripped them, fingers interlaced with his; their eyes met as he came.

They got back to the house in the late afternoon, hearts heavy. She went inside and collected the novel he had loaned her, but didn't linger, walking straight back outside and getting in the car. In silence she drove him back to where he left his vehicle in the roadhouse lot.

In daytime the bar was closed. Its drab, deserted, litter-strewn car park was a befitting venue for the awful, but inevitable, moment of their parting.

As they stood in shared misery saying their silent goodbyes, he stroked her face as he liked to do.

"What will you say was the reason you have been gone so long?" He asked as he cupped her face in his hands, trapping her wild and beautiful hair over her ears.

"I don't know." She confessed unhappily, "I'll think of something."

"You have to stay away from him, for at least two days. Longer if you can. No matter how many times you shower, it will take that long for the scent of me to fade on you."

She nodded despondently, her gaze dropping to her shoes as if the enormity of what they had done - of what she was about to do - had finally caught up with her. He broke the heavy silence.

"It's not too late; you can change your mind. I can take this all away for you. It doesn't have to hurt like this."

She shook her head.

He kissed her lightly on her lips and again on the crown of her head. Then he walked away from her, got into his car and drove off at speed, gravel spitting out from under his spinning tyres.

He didn't want to, but he forced his eyes to look into his rear view mirror as he drove away. He saw her with head hung low, a diminishing soul in the centre of a deserted car-park.

He made it a mile before he had to stop. He pulled erratically into a lay-by and jumped out the car. He collapsed onto his knees, his hand resting on the car bonnet whilst he waited for his head to stop spinning.

It was the most human he had felt since he had turned.

She got into the car and began to shake. She turned the key in the ignition and drove in the opposite direction.

She would not cry.

She

would

not

cry.

She made it a mile before she burst into tears. She pulled over erratically into a deserted gas station. She sobbed until she thought her heart would break from it.

It was dark by the time she pulled into her driveway. She hoped she would be able to say she had flu, which would explain away her ghostly complexion and red eyes. She walked into her house, and Jeremy was there, a slice of toast balanced sideways in his mouth as he used both hands to pack soccer gear into his bag.

"Hey." He said, then on seeing her face added, "Jeez, are you okay? You look terrible."

"Don't come near me." She advised, taking the stairs three at a time. "I think I have flu."

He called up the stairs after her.

"Hey, where were you last night? Jenna was doing her nut that you weren't answering your cell." He heard her bedroom door slam, so shrugged and left the house.

She lay on her bed and finally switched on her phone. She listened whilst it beeped its way through half a dozen missed calls. She threw it to one side. She would listen to them later. Right now, she had to think – had to come up with some sort of plan.

But she couldn't. Her mind was blank and when she tried to focus, all she could think about was him; his body, the feel of him inside of her, the look he gave her when they parted.

Suddenly a physical sensation entered her consciousness that something sharp was digging in to her, and she reached down and picked the offending item out of her bra. It was a little, bright yellow leaf. She slipped it between the pages of the book he had given her and slid it under her bed.

She curled into a foetal ball. What to do now? One of those messages, probably more than one of them, was Stefan.

She blinked the dryness out of her eyes. Before she could think about it, she put out her hand and grabbed the phone.

He picked up in two rings.

"Hey. Where have you been?" He said. "I've been trying to call you. Are you okay?"

"I have flu." She said automatically.

"Oh, man that's crappy." He said. "I'll come over, bring you some nice things."

"No!" She almost shouted. Then bit her lip, she had to be cleverer than that. "No, please don't. I look like crap and I feel worse. Please just let me sleep it off. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay, sure…If that's what you want. Feel better, sweetheart. I'll speak to you soon."

She hung up and cradled the phone to her chest as she shut her eyes.

So this was it. This was how she would handle things, one painful step at a time.

She looked at the dialler display and ignored the missed calls. She switched it over to show her the list of dialled calls. At the top of the list, was just one name.

Damon.