Thanks for the reviews! Glad to know yall like it! :) Things heat up a little more in this chapter!

Over the next few days, Elena slipped into her previous, avoid Damon mode. She threw herself into helping Mary prepare for the Masquerade, and it was coming along well. However she was not without distraction.

Damon's words were constantly in her ear. Not that she hadn't also wondered a time or two about Stefan messing around on her, but hearing him voice her most personal fears aloud, just seemed too harsh.

Unfortunately, Stefan had offered for Damon to remain at their house until after the masquerade, since the Salvatore mansion was now party central, and he'd agreed.

But Elena had managed to avoid confronting him alone, even though Stefan was still gone until late into the night, most of the time.


On this particular night though, Elena couldn't sleep.

It was past ten, and Stefan still wasn't home. Of course he could be doing anything, maybe getting a drink with a co-worker or something, but her doubts were running.

And besides that, she'd been up in her room since seven, trying to avoid the elder brother, who'd claimed the couch and television in the living room when she'd gotten home.

She wanted to apologize for hitting him, but at the same time, he had no right assuming things, and throwing them in her face.

Her thoughts were pulled away when a noise pierced the night around her.

She lay there for a moment before realizing that she was hearing screams.

Coming from down the hall.

She threw away her blanket, jumping up, and rushed out.

The door to Damon's bedroom was shut, but his yells were echoing off the walls. So she opened it, worried.

She wasn't sure if what she found surprised her. Damon was there, laying on the bed, thrashing, and shouting his head off. He seemed to be in a dream, and she didn't know how to react. But what worried her most was that he looked scared.

Damon, who seemed to fear nothing.

She moved forward then, to the edge of the bed, and reached out to his shoulders, shaking them.

He only thrashed more, so she shook them harder, "Damon, hey, wake up. Damon! It's just a dream. Wake up!"

His eyes flew open, but then she was moved.

He'd flipped them, pinning her under him with his hand around her throat.

He froze then, gaining his sense, and his hand fell away.

"God, Elena, I'm so sorry."

She rubbed the skin on her neck, "No, I'm sorry. You were yelling. I think it was a nightmare or something."

He laid flat, his chest heaving, the skin soaked.

"It was a flashback," He told her.

"Was it that bad over there?" Elena asked.

Her voice was small, and he opened his eyes.

"The worst...but I'd rather not talk about it."

She nodded, moving to sit on the edge of the bed as he stood, pacing around for a moment.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," she told him, before standing to leave.
Damon moved to block her, "Elena, wait."

She paused, glancing up at him, "Why?"

"I'm sorry I said those things. About Stefan, I mean. I was just pissed and-"

"I know," she cut him off, "And I shouldn't have hit you, but it's over now."

He sighed, "No, Elena. That's the problem. It's not over. It never is."

She eyed him warily as his hand moved up to cup her face.

"Damon."

His eyes lingered on hers, "I spent all that time pretending, you know. After you and Stefan were engaged. Pretending that I wasn't attracted to you. That you weren't the most amazing person I'd ever met, that I hadn't fallen hard for you...I only wanted to kiss you that once. Just to know what it was like before Stefan officially had you. I never thought you'd kiss me back, that you'd share me feelings too."

"I didn't-" she started, but he placed a finger over her lips.

"You did, Elena. I remember. You wanted it, just as much as I did. And it scared you. Because you wanted me too."

She shook her head, "I told you Damon, I love Stefan..."

"I know," he insisted, "Don't think I'm blind. You've always loved him. But you've loved me too. You just wont let yourself admit it."

She closed her eyes, "I can't...we can't Damon."

His hand was firm on her face now, angling it to meet his gaze, "I know, Elena. Stefan is still my brother, and I love him as such. It's all kinds of wrong, but when I'm with you...I know what I feel. And what you feel. You can't say that there is nothing between us."

"It was just a kiss, Damon."

"It was more than that," he insisted, holding her gaze, "I've always loved you, Elena. You know that. And I tried to do the right thing...I tried to leave, to stay away. I watched you marry my brother, I kept my distance and my mouth stayed shut. But I've seen how quickly life can end. How fast the people you care about can fall around you. Life is short. And I can't keep pretending."

His thumb was stroking her cheek now, his breath sweet on her face.

"But I'm married to Stefan," she argued, almost to herself.

"You're not happy," Damon pointed out, "And Stefan will never be able to love you the way I do."

She shook her head, "You can't say things like that."

His grip on her tightened, "Because it's true? Elena, you and I have something, we always have. But you wanted my brother, so I backed off. I left you alone, but is this really what you wanted? Because this isn't the fairy-tale picture I remember you talking about all of those years ago."

"I was naive," she swallowed.

"No, you had dreams," Damon corrected, "You had plans, things that you wanted. You shouldn't have to give those up to fit my brother's lifestyle. You deserve more than that, Elena."

Both of his hands were holding her face now, their bodies close.

"Things change," she told him, "You have to learn how to change with it."

"Not everything changes," he insisted, "My feelings for you haven't. It's been half a decade, and I've never been able to forget what you do to me."

His face was next to hers now, "And seeing the way you still react to me, I'd bet you still feel the same. You still want me."

She leaned into his touch, "Damon...please. What would you do, huh? If you were my husband, and you found out about this-"

"I'd kill us both," he promised, before pulling her hard against him, his lips crashing down to hers. She moaned into the kiss, and he lifted her body, her legs sliding around his waist.

Elena didn't want to want him. But she was as lost to his touch as she'd been the first time. She could only cling to his shoulders, and kiss him back with the same passion he was showing her.

He moved them then, laying her back on his bed, never once breaking their lips. Their bodies pressed hard together, and she could feel his want for her against her stomach.

His lips slid down to her neck, and she felt her eyes roll back.

Then a noise interrupted them. The locking of a car outside the window.

Elena froze, feeling Damon tense as well. He pulled back, and for a moment they only stared at each other. She wanted to close her eyes, because she knew what she'd see in his. And she wasn't sure she could handle that right now.

So pushing on his shoulders, he rolled off of her, and she jumped up, shooting him a look before walking out the door, back to her room.

Tears filled her eyes. She'd done it again. Had she really no self control?

But she couldn't deny how right it felt, and how good. Having him hold her, kissing her as though his last breath depended on it.

The urgency in his touch, his quickened desire, and his lips, hot against her. These shouldn't be such a turn on. But they were, and she wondered how far she'd of let him go, had Stefan not come back.

She could hear him now, moving about downstairs. She wondered if she should confront him about it being close to midnight, or just pretend to be asleep.

She decided on the latter, knowing that within the quiet walls, Damon was still awake, and she didn't want him to hear the argument. Not to mention that she was even more convinced now that Damon was right, at least about Stefan. And she couldn't accuse him of cheating on her. Not after she had just been hot and ready, under his brother.

So she rolled over, keeping her eyes closed when he opened the door. She heard him moving about, heard him walk into their bathroom, and turn on the shower. Ten minutes later, he was crawling in bed behind her, a good four inches between their bodies.

The thoughts of the nights events left her feeling even colder.