Disclaimer: TVD is not mine.
Dance
"Dance with me?" Damon asks, perched on the end of the bed. She's spending the night at the boarding house, and, despite her best efforts, there hasn't been a whole lot sleep (actually, there hasn't been any sleep) going on so far.
"It's three in the morning, Damon," She groans, "I'm not going to dance with you."
"Well then, I guess I'll just have to occupy the night hours by trying to drink myself into a coma." He tells her, swigging from the half empty bottle of alcohol in his hand.
"Why can't you occupy the night hours by sleeping?"
"Boring," he shrugs. "I prefer to be active during the night time hours." He cocks an eyebrow at her suggestively, but she's too tired to react to the innuendo.
"I suppose you shouldn't have to drink yourself into a coma… fine." She hears herself saying. "Fine, I'll dance with you."
They are caught in a never ending dance, she realizes as she whirls around the room in his arms. The only problem was that neither of them knew the steps. Sometimes they both take a few steps forward towards each other, but mostly one advances while the other retreats. Sometimes Damon holds his ground and catches her briefly, until the music changes and she whirls away, only to return later on.
She always comes back to him, though, and she knows that has to mean something. She'll figure out what it means in the morning.