Damon called room service to bring us breakfast, and after we ate he asked me what I wanted to do.

"We could listen to some music," I suggested, not really in the mood for a movie.

"Alright. What kind of music do you like?" He asked, looking at the shelves of music.

"A lot of different stuff. The Fray. One Republic. I like some older stuff."

"How about Anberlin?" He asked, sounding like he was about to burst out laughing.

"Perfect," I said, pulling out the album with their Enjoy the Silence cover on it. This time Damon did double over laughing.

"What's so funny?" I asked, putting the CD in.

"Nothing," he said, biting back his laughter.

He unbuttoned his shirt and held out his hand when the music started. I smiled and took it, and he pulled me to him. I found my thighs pressing against his and my hips moving in sync with his.

I rested my hands on his chest and he placed his hands on my hips. We stood in the middle of the living room, dancing so close that we could feel the other's every movement.

At one point, he started moving his body seductively against mine, his hips moving from one side to the other.*

Images of what had happened at the club flashed through my mind, and I told myself that I would not let history repeat itself where that night was concerned.

As the song ended, Damon leaned me back over his arm, and my heart skipped a beat. My arms wound around his waist, and he used his free hand to stroke down the side of my face. He leaned closer, and what was happening didn't fully hit me until we were about an inch apart.

I pulled back and tumbled out of his arms. I straightened myself and tried not to look as effected as I felt.

"You can't… I can't… that can't happen again," I said, shaking my head. He just smirked, and I knew he could see how affected I was by him.

"I mean it, Damon," I said, and disappeared into our bedroom.

I sat down on my bed and found a dark red velvet journal on my pillow. I opened it and found it totally blank. There was a note tucked inside.

Thought you may want something to document how irresistible I am in, so I bought this while you were asleep.

-Damon

I smiled, grabbed a pen, and started writing.

Dear Diary,

I am calling this my Five Minutes Diary. I am in California with Damon, and so much has happened. I guess I should start with what happened at the nightclub…

I felt my gaze go unfocused as I remembered the nightclub…


We'd been dancing to a slower song, and my arms were around his neck and his arms were around my waist. And I was wasted.

He met my eyes, and even in the dimness of the club, I was still mesmerized by the crystalline blue irises of his eyes. He leaned closer to me, just as drunk as I was.

My eyes dropped to his lips, which looked soft and inviting. I leaned into him, and suddenly his lips were against mine. My lips parted, and his mouth opened against mine. It was like there had been a fuse building since we'd met, and it been lit.

Absently, I realized Damon was walking me out of the club, not breaking the kiss. A moment later, my back was against a car door. I knew then that we were in the backseat of his car, and my pulse raced at the fact we were pretty much completely alone.

He pulled me under him, and I felt his tongue slide in my mouth. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he ran his hand down my side. He started kissing down my neck, grazing my skin with elongated fangs. But even obviously lusting for my blood, he didn't bite.

I was overwhelmed by him, feeling sensations run through me that even Stefan had never caused. I knew that the thought of Stefan should have jolted me out of my trance, but my drunken mind couldn't even process the thought of pulling away.

I felt Damon's hand slide under my shirt and his hands gently graze my stomach. He pulled away, and he met my eyes.

I nodded, and he pulled my shirt over my head. He fingered my black lace bra, and an emotion was in eyes that I couldn't identify. Something that mixed in with desire, lust, and wanting. Then I realized it was genuine affection. He wasn't just taking in my body right now, but me. He didn't just want my body, he wanted me.

This caused me to kiss him forcefully, winding my hands through his hair. I wanted him, he wanted me, and there was nothing else that mattered.

"The hotel. Trust me Elena, we will be much more comfortable on a bed," he said, and I nodded, enthralled by the idea of going somewhere completely alone with him. I pulled my shirt back on and we walked around and got in the front of the car.

"Wow. Did we seriously almost do that in the backseat of your car?" I asked, wondering what on earth had gotten in to me. But honestly, my blurred thoughts were focused on one thing and one thing alone, and that was Damon.

"Yep," he confirmed, breaking a couple of speed limits on the way back to the hotel. My head had partially cleared by the time we got back to our room, and though I was still very drunk, I knew that I may regret this in the morning.

Not noticing my second thoughts, Damon took my face in his hands and kissed me passionately. It took every inch of my willpower, but I pulled away.

"I'm sorry, Damon. I'm just… not ready," I said, trying to completely clear my head.

"That's alright. You will be one day," he said and gave me a quick, chaste kiss. His certainty that I would one day be his unnerved me.


I snapped back to reality with a jolt when Damon gently nudged my arm.

"You okay?" He asked, and I realized that I was laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Yeah. I'm fine," I lied, still unnerved by the vivid flashbacks. I knew right then that the only way to keep myself from ending up like Katherine was to end things now.

"Take me home." The words sounded clipped and harsh, and I winced internally at the edge in my voice.

"Why now?" He asked, brow furrowing.

"Because I'm not Katherine. And your not Stefan." These words sounded even harsher than before.

"No, I am not Stefan. And no, you are not Katherine. Who cares? Five minutes, remember?"

I scoffed. "Five minutes is up, Damon."

"Why now?" He repeated, meeting my eyes. He seemed genuinely concerned, but I knew better. This was the vampire that had tried to compel me, drained half the town, turned Vicki, and tormented Stefan.

"Don't pretend to care," I said, eyes narrowing.

"Who's pretending?" He said the words softly, and he seemed almost startled when he said them, as if he hadn't meant to say them out loud.

Taken aback slightly, I swallowed my retort.

"Damon," I started, my tone softening, "I have to go home to Stefan and deal with all of this. I can't run away forever."

"Stay two more days. Give me two more days."

I looked up into his eyes, knowing he wasn't compelling me. Two more days. Five more minutes. Suddenly the thoughts of Stefan and Katherine and everything that had happened the night of my accident came rushing to the surface.

I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around Damon, burying my face in his shoulder. To my shock, I started sobbing.

It was for my parents. It was for Bonnie almost dying had it not been for Stefan's blood. It was for finding out I was Katherine's dead ringer.

His arms encircled me, pulling me to him. I felt hollow as I clung to him. To the vampire that had turned Vicki, bitten Bonnie, and killed half the town. I cried while holding on to the cynical, reckless, scheming brother that I had thought I hated.

His hand stroked my hair with gentleness I didn't think he was capable of. When I finally pulled back, our eyes met and I knew things had reached a turning point. I trusted him. And more scarily, I was falling for him. And I think we both knew it.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my cheek, and I took his face in my hands.

"Damon Salvatore, I am going to have hell to pay when I get home. You better take some responsibility for kidnapping me and dragging me to California with you," I said, a small smile curving my lips.

"Of course. You were kidnapped by the evil, humanity-free Salvatore brother," he said, also smiling slightly.

"That our story and we're sticking to it," I said, releasing him as soon as I realized hands still clasped his face.

"Yep," he confirmed, his cocky smile intact.

I felt an odd friendship forming, and I had a feeling this bond was going to be nearly impossible to break. And honestly, I didn't really want to try.


The next day, he drove me to the mall, and I was overwhelmed by the size of it.

"Wow," I breathed as we walked in the main entrance.

"Cool, huh?"

"Cool? It's amazing," I said, looking at the huge fountain a few yards from us.

He smiled and guided me over to the fountain, and I leaned over to look down at the water. There were coins resting in the bottom, sparkling like diamonds.

"Ready to go shopping?" He asked, turning to me.

I nodded and drug him all over the mall as I went on an all out shopping spree. He had insisted I borrowed one of his many credit cards, and too tempted by all of the shops to argue, I had agreed and thanked him.

We finally got to a clothing store that had the old fashioned dressing rooms with curtains for doors. Damon was already loaded down with bags from various other stores, and the cashier smiled at him sympathetically.

I started going through clothes, and started throwing things behind me as I hunted for my size in an adorable pleated black miniskirt with little white rhinestones around the waist.

I heard a fake sigh of exasperation and turned to see Damon pulled a scrap of lace off of his head, which had apparently landed there when I'd started throwing stuff behind me. He held it up and I realized it was not a scrap of lace but a thong.

"Um, thank you, Elena, but I'm more of a boxers guy," he said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Really? I think they would look lovely on you. They would do wonders for those blue eyes of yours," I teased back.

His lip quirked up at one side and he folded his arms, tilting his head.

"Are you saying that you like my eyes?" He asked cockily.

I just rolled my eyes and finally found the skirt in my size. He helped me put the stuff I had thrown backwards back on their proper racks and shelves, and as we did, something caught my eye that was sitting on a shelf.

I reached up and took the black fedora from the shelf, a small smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.

I turned Damon towards me and put it on him, cocking it to the side slightly.

"It looks great. We have to get it," I said, stepping back.

He took it off and brooded at it, and then his cocky smile returned. He took the skirt from me and we walked up to the counter and bought my skirt and his hat. I had to admit, he looked good in it.

When we finally got back to the hotel, he insisted on hanging up all of my new clothes, refusing to let me help. When he'd finished, he flopped down on the bed with me.

"Thank you. For today," I said, looking over at him. Surprising both of us, I leaned over and pressed my lips to his cheek, lingered for a moment, and pulled away.

"You look exhausted," he comment after I pulled away. He seemed normal enough, but right after I had pulled away, there had been a flash of vulnerability in his clear blue eyes.

"We've been shopping for four hours," I laughed, stretching.

He slid his arm under my head and pulled me to him, and I rested my head against his chest.

"Rest for a couple hours," he said, and I decided to not argue for once.


I woke up rested, relaxed, and comfortable. I was on my side, and I felt Damon's chest pressing against my back. His arm was over my waist, clasping me to him.

I put my arm over his, lacing our fingers together. I had started to feel oddly comfortable around him.

"You awake?" His whisper startled me.

"Yes, but I didn't think you were," I said, slightly breathless.

"Well, I am. Obviously," he said sarcastically.

I just rolled my eyes at his sarcasm and got to my feet, running my fingers through my hair.

"I'm going to go get a shower, I'll be back in here in a few minutes," I told him, grabbing a change of clothes from the closet.

"Need some help?" He asked, batting his eyelashes innocently.

I just gave him a look that said "keep dreaming" and went into the bathroom.

When I came out, I ran right into him. My hair was still a little damp, but that didn't explain why Damon was suddenly frozen in place.

"Damon?" I said, my eyebrows lifting.

He started backing up, eyes going wide briefly. I stepped forward and rested my hand on his shoulder, meeting his eyes.

"What is wrong?" I asked persistently.

"Back. Up. Now." The words were a snarl.

I backed up, eyebrows lifted. I felt moisture against my thigh and slid my hand under my skirt to find where the wetness was coming from. I found a tiny cut on my upper thigh, and when I pulled my hand back up, blood stained my fingertips. That would explain Damon's reaction.

I heard a low growl and looked up to see Damon staring at my hand, the one covered in blood. He started walking forward, his face transforming. His lips parted hungrily, revealing lengthened fangs. I realized with a start he hadn't fed in two days.

Only I would be stupid enough to cut myself shaving and be rooming with a hungry vampire. I backed away, hitting my back on the bed. He followed, those blue eyes tortured.

That was what did it. The eyes. I saw self loathing reflected there, and my fear disappeared. I stood up, walked over to him, and held out my hand. The blood stained one. The warm red liquid was still wet, and I watched his fangs lengthen further.

I help my fingers up about an inch from his mouth, offering the blood there.

The cut on my leg had stopped bleeding, but the blood on my fingers was still wet.

He let out a small moan of wanting, but his eyes still said no. I had no idea why I was doing what I was doing, but there was a stupid part of me that trusted him. Besides, he was not making a wound or feeding from a wound.

"Go ahead," I said, walking forward.

He reached up and clasped his hands around my wrist, curling his fingers around it. He gently pulled me to him, his eye fixated on the blood. My pulse began racing as he leaned towards my fingers.

I gasped as he pressed his lips to my hand, and I felt his tongue slowly run over the blood. My knees suddenly felt weak, but I refused to fall. Our eyes met, my brown eyes locking with his that were masked with vampirism. The whites of his eyes were the color of the blood he was gently sucking from my skin.

When he released my hand, it was clean of blood, and my heart was beating out of my chest. With no warning, he leaned forward and covered my mouth with his. I gasped and went to push him off or smack him, but my body had other ideas. He opened my mouth with his, and I felt his tongue slide into my mouth. I gasped again, but this time it was nothing negative. My hands came to rest on his shoulders, and his arms were around my waist. Our mouths moved together, and our bodies were pressed together tightly.

Then I came to my senses.

I jerked and shoved him off of me, taking him by surprise. I backed up and sat on the bed, breathless.

I wasn't mad at him, not really. Just shocked and afraid.

Shocked because of the way my body had responded. Afraid because under the immense physical reaction, there had been something else. A strange surge of warmth close to my heart. I had felt something…real.

"Are you okay?" He asked, eyebrows lifting.

"Fine. I'm…fine," I said, still trying to catch my breath.

"C'mon, let's get out of here for awhile," he suggested.

"Great idea," I said, sliding my shoes on and following him out the door.

Once we were in the car, I started observing the most intricate features of him without even meaning to. Long, tapered fingers. Long black eyelashes framing unnatural blue eyes. A curved, seductive mouth. My pulse began racing again as I analyzed him.

Beautiful… I thought.

He turned to me, his cocky smile in full swing. He seemed pleased and amused.

"So you're finally admitting it, then?" The question surprised me until I realized I had said "beautiful" out loud. I ducked my head to hide my blush, which was spreading across my face.

He smirked and turned his eyes back to the road. I bit my lip and finally lifted my head.

"So, where are we going?" I asked.

"You'll see," he replied cryptically.

My heart rate picked up again and he reached for my hand. He laced our fingers together and rested them on the console, and I didn't pull away. I wondered if he could feel the same sensations I did. The feel of his pressure of his fingers pressing against mine, the gentleness in the way his palm pressed against mine. But more than that, I wondered if he could feel my pulse racing, my heart beating out of my chest.


Feel this, can you feel this? My heart beating out of my chest? Feel this, can you feel this?"

~Bethany Joy Galeotti