AN: An unexpected second chapter. Yes, the contradiction is a bit predictable, but the plot is less so. Any reviews you send will be magical and make my day. Write one?
She wakes up with a burn in her throat that's unfamiliar. And while the room she's in is familiar, her place in this bed isn't, especially when he's not in it. Her hand reaches across the covers, searching for his warmth the way she used to search for his brother's. And for the first time, she's not nostalgic about it. She's completely present in this burning passion for Damon Salvatore, and the only distraction from it is the burn in her throat.
Just as she goes to get a glass of water, praying for a relief she know won't come, he steps out of the bathroom. "It won't work, you know. Not that way." His arrogance is astounding, and it's settles over her like a familiar blanket. She's used to this, his frustrating sense of timing and the way he smirks. The routine of it is… nice.
"Excuse me?" The haughty tone she intended doesn't quite make it to her eyes.
He comes closer, almost as if she's willed it. "A glass of water, Elena? Don't play Caroline. It doesn't work that way, and you know that." His hand reaches up to cup her neck, and it's all she can do not to lean in. "The fire here, it's a part of you now. Always will be." He smirks. "But if you want, I've got something that might help."
He dangles the two pieces of her bikini from his fingertips, and she's immediately on guard. Admitted feelings and all, this seems unwise. "Damon, I'm listening."
"When I first changed, I went through a period of hating the urge to hunt. So when the need got unbearable or when I wanted to temper it a little longer, I used to go for a cold swim. Now considering your last choice in taking a dive, I suggest something a little more practical." He nods behind him.
"A cold shower? Really?"
"It'll help, Elena. Especially considering that you'll be transitioning soon, ergo you need to drink human blood, ergo…"
She nods, conceding. "Cold shower. I get it." There's a breath and a moment. "So why the swimsuit?"
He cocks his head to the side. Now's the hard part of the convincing. "Well, I was thinking we could take it together." Silently, she rips the swimsuit from his hand and turns to walk away. "Oh, come on, Elena. It's not like I haven't see you and blondie in bikinis at the car wash already. Besides, this isn't about us. It's about you."
She turns around, furious. She's built up to a full boil faster than before. "It's about me? Really? Convince me because I'm just not believing that this about me and transitioning right now."
"There's breathing that helps too. Wear jeans and a turtleneck for all I care, but you need to do this. And like it or not, right now you need me too." He smiles at her glare, seeing that he's won her over a little bit more. She's most resistant right before she gives in.
She looks around his room, frustrated. Then a devious light comes to her eyes, and he knows that she's found her own way of dealing. Smirking, she goes to his dresser, opens a drawer, and pulls out one of many black articles of clothing. Holding it and the bikini to her chest, she goes to the bathroom and closes the door.
A minute later, the door opens. She's wearing the bikini alright, but underneath one of his black t-shirts, he'll never see it. Not that he minds. He'll still have her in the shower with him. That's enough for the moment.
"Great," he says. "Get in."
Purely out of habit, she sets the temperature to a warm setting, and he lets her at first. They step into the warmth, and for a couple minutes, the press of two bodies in such a small space is uncomfortable. She shivers slightly when he wraps his arms around her, and he laughs quietly. He hasn't even changed the temperature yet.
"Trust me?" His voice is so soft that she almost doesn't respond, but when she feels the water start to cool, she presses her head to his chest and nods. The cool water is not such a risk compared to being here with him, but she simply breathes deeply and waits.
At the first contact of the cold water on her skin, the fire in her throat burns a bit brighter. She knows it's wrong, but all she can think of is blood running warm across her lips. The thought is removed, thinking only of the blood and not where it comes from. She doesn't imagine ripped throats or screaming faces, only of a fire being assuaged.
She tries to escape the cold, but he holds her fast. "Shh. I have you."
When her shivering stops and she merely shakes slightly against his chest, he finally turns off the water. He helps her to pull off the soaked shirt she's been using as a cover up and wraps a towel around her. He picks her up to sit on the sink's counter, and when he sees that she's still shivering, he puts a hand on either side of her face and kisses her forehead. It's gentle and unexpected, but considering the curveball he has planned, he thinks that it's fitting.
Taking a deep breath, he opens the bottom drawer of the cabinet and takes out the blood bag he placed there earlier that morning. He rips off the stopper and hands it to her, and when she shakes her head, he finally speaks.
"It's a part of the transition, Elena. You're ready."
Her eyes give her away, and he can see that she's thinking of this as her true goodbye to humanity. Goodbye to being fragile and feeling a hunger that has nothing to do with bloodlust. Goodbye to growing up and growing old. Goodbye to motherhood and children with her eyes.
When she doesn't say anything, he speaks again. "You're not losing your humanity, Elena. It's already gone." Their eyes meet, and wordlessly, she holds out her hand for the blood bag. He hands it to her, and once his hands are free, he puts his hands on her wet hair to smooth it down as she takes the first sip of human blood. Their eyes remain locked, and when the blood hits her mouth, he notices a subtle change. He eyes get a little brighter. Her cheeks grow a little rosier. She was fading away, and he didn't even notice.
But she's here now, and as the blood bag empties, she becomes even more permanent. She's not going anywhere, and neither is he.
"How do you feel?" His thumbs rub across her cheeks, and he notices her lick her bottom lip to taste the last drop of rouge.
"I feel… great." She sounds surprised.
"And the craving? The temptation?"
"I feel under control. I can't be sure, but I feel that way." At her response, he smiles, and on impulse, he kisses her passionately. She responds in kind, and the towel slips again, revealing her bikini. He fingers the straps but leaves it at that, enjoying the moment instead of rushing it. He wants her, but he needs her to understand why he wants her, why he loves her.
They pull back, and their foreheads meet as they even out their breathing just a touch. She smiles at him, and he can't help but return it. For now, they're in this little cocoon.
"Get dressed," she whispers, and he can tell she's got something planned already.
"What do you have planned?" He knows he should just go with it, but he wants to know what's she thinking about.
She smiles, and he can see a fire in her eyes. "You're going to show me the best part of being a vampire."
"And what's that?"
The fire burns a little brighter. "You tell me."