A/N: Huge thank you to diehardromantic! It meant a lot to me that you took the time to review.

I don't know what I was expecting Damon's car to look like. Actually, I don't think I expected anything at all, because I didn't care enough to wonder in the first place. But I found the subject interesting when I saw it. "I didn't know you liked cars." I said, referring to the fire-red Ferrari.

He shrugged. "Don't I deserve a nice car?" He grinned at me naughtily, and seemed a little off-put when I didn't react.

We had only been on the road a short while when I realized this ride was going to be miserable. Misery wasn't new to me. I'd spent the last few years with absolutely no reprieve from misery, sitting alone in my house. However, the irritation was new, and kicked up the misery to a whole new level.

Damon was an excellent driver. He never drove the speed limit, but he moved in ways that made it abundantly clear he had complete control of the car. For all his excellent driving skills, he didn't keep his eyes on the road. He kept flicking glances at me, but he never said anything. It irritated me so much I started to sigh. Pointedly, and repeatedly, but he didn't seem to be getting it, which only irritated me more.

After a few hours, when we were on a deserted stretch of highway going 80 or so, Damon took his hands off the wheel and completely turned around in the driver seat to reach behind him. I took my eyes off the road, uncaring, and watched him with interest. There was a large cooler in the back seat. He took out a handful of blood bags and turned back around in his seat. We'd only veered slightly out of the road lines. He straightened it, and put his attention back on the blood bags.

He opened the armrest that was settled between his seat and mine, and I noted with surprise that it was really another cooler of some sort. White puffs of cool air appeared when he had opened it. He put all but one of the blood bags in it and closed it again.

"You really vamped up your ride, huh." I think my lame joke must have surprised him as much as it had me.

Nonetheless, he chuckled and said, "There wasn't much else for me to do. Things got pretty boring when you two left." He picked up the remaining blood bag and ripped into it ceremoniously with his fangs.

My fangs lengthened at the sight and my eyes went a little dreamy. At the smell, I almost leaned into him and licked it from where he'd smeared it across his chin. I hadn't eaten since yesterday.

He saw me watching and withdrew his mouth. "Do you want some?"

I forced myself to look away. "I don't drink human blood."

"You can drink human blood without being a killer, Elena." I continued to ignore him and he shrugged and went back to his blood.

I was sitting staring out the window doing my best not to watch him drink when a sudden noise made every part of me tense up. Instead of the faint sound of his throat swallowing, now a distinct, loud sucking noise could be heard. My eyes were drawn to him despite myself.

He was sucking the opening of the bag hard, trying to get the last drops, like one would do with a juice box, I recalled from my younger memories. As I watched, he dropped the bag when it held no more and moved on to his fingers. Some blood must have spilled onto them. He started with his pinky. His lips closed around his finger and she could hear his tongue scrape across his skin as he slowly moved his finger from his mouth. It came out with a quick popping noise. I gulped. He moved on to his ring finger. And then his middle finger, his eyes closed dreamily, no care for the road. His face was one of pure enjoyment, and then he started making little moaning sounds. I took a deep, involuntary breath, even though I didn't need the air. As I watched, something inside me heated, and I told myself it was just the blood, but it was something I know I hadn't felt in a while, and hunger was a feeling I'd been struggling with almost every day. He was moving on to his last finger, his thumb, and I was nearly writhing against the seat in restraint. My eyes were watching his lips as they puckered and sucked, not the blood.

It took more power than it should have for me to look away. I spotted a patch of trees. "We need to stop." I growled. "I'm hungry."

His head lifted from his fingers and I could clearly see he hadn't been paying me any attention. He'd been completely immersed in his fingers. He looked into my eyes and understanding replaced the surprise. He jerked the wheel suddenly and we came to a screaming stop near a patch of trees on the side of the road.

I reached for the door handle, but he stopped me with a hand on my forearm. "Allow me." He said with a smirk and was out of the car before I could stop him.

I didn't have long to wait in the car. Before I knew it, he was back and holding something out for me in my open window. I reached for it before I recognized what the small bundle of squealing grey fur could be. Irritation and a little hurt filled me as I realized what it was. A small baby bunny.

I rolled my eyes so he wouldn't see the hurt in them. I took it, more savagely than I intended, and bit into the squirming mass, killing it instantly and draining it quickly. "Did you really think I wasn't over that?" I asked him when I finished. "I accepted long ago what needs to be done." I tossed the small bunny to the road, my heart giving an odd twinge as I did so. As a rule, I generally targeted old or sick animals, ones that were fated to die soon anyway. Targeting the ones that hadn't even had their chance in life yet seemed cruel, but I wouldn't let Damon get to me.

Not only was the baby bunny mean, but it was just plain stupid. Something so small would never fill me up. My stomach growled in agreement. He heard it and sneered. "Would you like me to go back and get some more? I did see a whole nest."

"No, thank you." I settled back in the car seat. The small amount of blood sat uneasily in my stomach.

Despite my bravado when dining, he seemed to recognize my discomfort. He took another blood bag from the compartment between the seats and bit into it delicately. Probably trying to make a point. He daintily finished, after muchly overdone and theatrical sucking and gulping. I knew he was doing it on purpose this time. He finished without a drop spilt, and said, "You know, you killed that bunny back there. You had to, but I didn't have to kill anything. Ironic that the ones so worried about doing good are the ones who are actually the killers, isn't it?"

I looked out the window and tried to ignore him, and ignore the hunger still gnawing at my stomach. I retreated to the place that's recently become my home. A place inside myself where I can block out the rest of the world, a place where I don't have to see, hear, or feel anything. I didn't have to think. It was always easier here.