And all your different faces and all your different ways are making everything a mess
And all I'm saying is that all your different places and all the complications led to this

And I can't deny your eyes
You know I try to read between the lines
I saw a warning sign
And then you threw me up against the wall
Who said that it's better to have loved and lost?
I wish that I had never loved at all

-Up Against the Wall by Boys Like Girls

DAMON

Elena stared out the window, watching Mystic Falls rush by in a blur. "I can't believe I did that," she whispered, her velvety brown eyes glistening with tears.

I glanced over at her. "Oh, please. Pull yourself together."

She looked shocked, as if no one had spoken to her that way before. Which I suppose is probably true. Saint Stefan is far too busy coddling her with his head up his ass to give her what she actually needs: a dose of reality. He prefers to spend his time with his head stuck in the sand, ostrich-style, rather than face the shit that tends to explode in front of his face. Denial is powerful coping mechanism, after all. "You're a vampire, Elena," I said, keeping my eyes carefully on the road. "Get it through your head."

"I almost killed someone!" she cried, wringing her hands.

Boo-fucking-hoo. "Do you want a medal?" I deadpanned. "You were hungry, you fed, she didn't die."

Elena looked down, fiddling with her daylight ring. "She would have died if you hadn't been there," she said softly. "I would have killed her."

We are not doing this now. I am not playing white knight to her damsel-in-distress. That's Stefan's job, not mine. "Are you seriously going to mope about it?" I demanded, unable to stop myself from biting the bullet. "Did Stefan teach you anything besides Brooding 101?" I resisted the urge to crush the steering wheel into Silly Putty. I love this car, I love this car, I chanted to myself.

"I can't do it. I can't feed off animals," Elena admitted.

Why am I even here listening to Elena's little woe-is-me speech? I seriously regretted coming in the first place. Goddamn Stefan and his ability to guilt me into doing shit I don't want to do. Especially concerning Elena. I shrugged. "What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing. Just…" She continued staring at her hands. "I liked it," she said in a rush.

A baby vampire who likes the taste of human blood? Impossible. I sighed. "That's not surprising. Every part of your body is wired to like it."

"But Stefan – " she interrupted. I gnashed my teeth in frustration. Why does he have to come up in every single conversation I have? "Stefan routinely goes through cycles of self-righteousness, denial, raging bloodthirst, and overwhelming guilt. In case you haven't noticed, bunny blood doesn't exactly work out for him, either." Yeah. And I'm the bad guy. He's the one who frequently massacres a staggering amount of bodies, but it's okay because he feels oh-so-bad about it later. He's a fucking masochist, I swear. Tell me one other person who actually keeps a list of all the people they killed. Cue frowny-face now.

She was quiet for a few minutes. Thank God. Just as I was beginning to settle comfortably into the silence, she spoke again. "Will you teach me?" she asked beseechingly.

Oh hell no. I'm not falling for this trap again. I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling in frustration. "Not part of my job description. It's not my fault Stefan doesn't know his ass from Pinnochio's." You can't learn control if you spend a century and a half convincing yourself you're almost-human. It's common sense. Clearly all those years of high-school have been lost on him.

"You don't have to be mean to him," Elena said, predictably coming to his defense. "He's trying, in his own way."

Yeah, okay. In his own very special way that requires him to try and live off groundhogs and other fluffy things. I stopped the car in front of the boarding house.

"We're staying here tonight?" Elena asked.

"No. I am," I said, getting out of the car. She followed immediately. "What about me?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Find your own place. You're not some fragile little human, Elena. I'm sure you can take care of yourself."

"But Jeremy can't see me like this!" she said, gesturing to the dried blood on her clothes.

I glanced at her. "Yup. Probably not the best idea," I agreed, spinning my key ring around my finger as I headed up to the door. "That and you might be…tempted by Baby Gilbert, anyway."

"So where am I supposed to go?!"

I paused at the threshold. "Find a motel?" I suggested. "Those seem to turn you on," I added, shutting the door in her face.

"Damon?"

My eyes snapped open. Elena was hovering in front of me, approximately three inches from my face. Her chocolate brown eyes were all soft and serious, an expression she must have picked up from Saint Stefan. I stared at her for a second before my brain cells kicked in.

"Jesus Christ, Elena," I said irritably, struggling to get out from beneath her. "Ever heard of personal space?" I asked, trying to sit up. Preferably before my nether region decides to pop up and say hello.

She stared back at me. "Are you seriously bringing up personal space?" she asked, referring to our slight tendency to dry-hump whenever we happened to be in close enough proximity.

"Whatever," I mumbled, running a hand through my hair. "What are you doing here, anyway?" I asked, taking in her outfit. I narrowed my eyes. "Is that my shirt?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I had to have something to wear."

Hmm. Or not. I tried to keep the blood flow above my waist.

"I stayed at Caroline's last night," she continued as if I cared. I raised an eyebrow. "And you couldn't have stolen one of her shirts instead?"

Elena grinned coquettishly. "I like yours so much better." I glared at her and didn't say anything. "Um…I didn't kill anyone last night?" she said, trying for levity.

I rolled my eyes. "That's because you drank enough for six people last night. You have the self-control of a fruit fly," I said, stretching my arms and intending to head to the basement for a blood bag. "Can I get you anything?" I asked innocently as I rose. Her eyes ran over my bare abdomen.

"Huh?" she said distractedly, staring somewhere below the vicinity of my waist. I pulled a black V-neck over my head. As much fun as it is to ruffle her feathers, it gets me nowhere if she's incoherent.

"AB positive? A little O-neg?" I leaned closer, pulling the corner of my lips into a conspiratorial smirk. "Soccer mom?"

She hissed angrily, baring her fangs. I rolled my eyes. Baby vamps and their heightened emotional bullshit. I swear to God I'm too old for this. "I'm terrified," I told her sarcastically as she pummeled me with her tiny, ineffectual fists.

Which, in hindsight, was perhaps not the smartest thing I could have said. The little hellcat narrowed her eyes, backed up, and took a flying leap at me. Startled, I tumbled to the ground. More out of shock than anything else – it usually takes more than a doe to take me down. She landed with her palms on my chest, straddling my hips. Slowly, she met my eyes. There was a mixture of surprise, defiance, and a dash of that Petrova fire that seems to have burst out ever since she transitioned. Maybe she hadn't meant to trap me in this compromising position, but she sure as hell wasn't sorry about it. Despite my best intentions – fuck me if I'm not almost as far in denial as Stefan - my goblin friend was throwing a fucking party in my pants.

"Case in point," I drawled, trying to inject my tone with a suitable amount of sarcasm. I took her brief moment of confusion to flip her over. "You have no self-control. If you wanted me, you just had to ask."

Elena blinked. "Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"I want you," she whispered, staring straight at me and biting her lower lip.

What? No. She can't waltz in here and drop a fucking bomb on me just like that. Loving her has gotten me exactly nowhere. Or no, that's a lie – it's gotten me shoulder-deep in a pile of shit more times than I can count. "Don't say things you don't mean," I breathed, searching her eyes.

"I'm not," she insisted.

Holy shit. "I…Elena," I managed. "We can't…this isn't happening."

She leaned even closer. "So tell me to stop." I felt her breath on my neck, tickling my ear. Her lips brushed my skin, trailing kisses along my jaw line. She hovered just above my lips. Fucking hell. I screwed up every ounce of determination I possessed and pushed her away. Goddamn it, I've effectively neutered myself. "Sorry, but you don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to knowing what you want." I ran a hand over my face. Fuck. I need a cold shower. "I can't do this," I muttered under my breath. Like, ice-cold.

"Do what?" Elena challenged.

Do not crumble, you pussy. I inhaled. "This thing. The thing we always do, where you eye-fuck me and mess with my mind." Ergo, this thing that goes absolutely nowhere except Mind-Fuck Central. I really should get IT WILL ALWAYS BE STEFAN tattooed on my ass, since I seem forget every time I'm in her presence. "So spare me this whole drama and run along." Elena doesn't know what the fuck she wants. She's living out an epic love tale with Saint Stefan and then boom, she's on top of me with bedroom eyes. And then it's me who gets screwed over in the end, just like always, because I can't change, I don't want to change, and I'll eventually end up disappointing her. It's only a matter of time before she goes running back to Stefan. "You made your choice, Elena."

Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I know. I'm telling you I chose wrong." She began to pace. "I'm sorry, Damon. I should have said this before, but I…I didn't know how." Elena took a deep breath. "Don't," she said, seeing my face. "I need to say this."

And I know, I just know she's about to pull us deeper in the rabbit hole than either of us would like, but I don't stop her. I can't, because a part of me wants so badly to hear what I think she's saying that there isn't room for anything else.

"I think…it was easier to paint you as the bad guy, because you were always the one willing to do what no one else wanted to do." She paused. "I know you would have saved me first, Damon."

Goddamn fucking right I would have saved her. No matter what she said, because I'm selfish that way. I wanted her to live. I wanted her to have the life she wanted to have. I wanted to have the chance to get eye-fucked, mind-fucked, and generally blown away by the girl I love, because it's better than not having her there at all. Fuck Stefan for being such a pussy. Now he walks around looking so sad you almost want to comfort him before you remember it's his fucking fault we're in this situation in the first place. I tried to wrap my mind around what was happening now.

"And I can't regret that Matt lived," she said softly. "But now…I don't regret becoming a vampire either." She looked at me, tears clinging to her lashes. "Because it made me realize what I feel for you."

Pathetic bastard that I am, I couldn't help myself. I stroked her tears away with my thumb as gently as I could. She leaned into my chest, burying her face in my shirt. "I know I screwed everything up," she mumbled into the fabric. I know she's snotting it up, but not a single part of me manages to push her away. In fact, hell if it didn't feel like heaven just to have her in my arms. "But please…I need you." Elena drew back enough to look me in the eye. "Maybe it took me becoming a vampire to see it, or admit it to myself, but…I love you, Damon."

ELENA

He looked as if he were about to say something, but I placed a finger against his lips. If I don't get this out now, I never will. "Not some ideal of you, not because I think I can change you. I just…love you. All of you." I smiled wryly. "You consume me. And that used to scare the hell out of me. But you're the only one who calls me out on my bullshit, and I need that. You don't look at me as if I'm a porcelain doll who's so damn fragile she can't think for herself." I touched his cheek. "You're what I want, and nothing you or anybody else does or says will change my mind."

Damon's eyes were churning, a storm in icy waters. "I can't be what you need," he whispered. "I'm not Stefan."

"I know that." I wanted to cry at the absurdity of it. "I don't want you to be. I love you, Damon," I repeated firmly.

Suddenly, his lips were crushing mine. He slammed me against the wall so hard I heard it crack. I gasped, arching back, feeling as though every nerve ending on my body had sudden awoken. His hand slid under my shirt as my legs wrapped around his hips. I groaned unconsciously as my fangs descended. I could barely decipher the barrage of emotions that flooded over me. Lust, love, hunger, thirst, desire of every kind crackled through me. A thousand stars burst into flames, shattering into millions of tiny glittering diamonds. Worlds collided. Emotions clashed. An inferno of words finally said extinguished, the embers sizzling hot. I couldn't care less. I couldn't even think. The only thing I could do was feel – and love.

He looked at me with a strangely inexplicable expression. His eyes were bursting with emotion. It was love, but it wasn't the gentle, kind love I had known before. It was fierce, uncontrollable, and crazily, intensely, passionate. Consuming. "I love you too, Elena. But you already knew that," he said with a rueful smile.

Don't you see?
I'm not the only one for you,
But you're the only one for me.

- Stay Close, Don't Go by Secondhand Serenade

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