Author's notes at the end this time.

Hope you like the chapter!


"I love you, Stefan." The words came out naturally, like they were as simple to proclaim as breathing, as his fingertips glided their way across the satin skin of my cheek.

"I love you too," he replied, his lips curling towards his hazel eyes, before he closed the miniscule space between us and placed a soft kiss on my lips.

He pulled back slightly and rested his head on the down contents of my pillow as I grazed my foot along the fabric of his jeans. Our intertwined fingers rested between our chests and I'd never felt more content. With him in this close of proximity, I'd never felt safer.

I closed my eyes to savor the feeling, but when I reopened them, the lighting of the room had changed. It no longer had a warm glow from the candles, but instead an icy blue permeated everything. The temperature had dropped and as I opened my mouth to question the change, Stefan was ripped from my grip.

He flew from the bed and disappeared into the midnight wall as grass sprouted around my face. My fingers curled inward as they scraped about a mixture of dry mud and dirt. Panicked, my eyes searched my surroundings only to notice I'd appeared on the edge of the lake. Wickery Bridge was arched across the sheeted glass of water and a vehicle had just smashed through the safety barrier.

Instinctively, I knew it was my parents and as it fell towards the dark liquid, I heaved myself from the ground and dove into the lake. The water was freezing and I could feel it seeping straight through my delicate layers of skin and into my veins, but I pushed it aside and kept swimming as the vehicle made contact and submerged.

I was already gasping for air when I reached the car, but my mother's terrified face was clear through the passenger's side window, and all I wanted was to help her. I frantically beat my fist against the glass in an attempt to smash though and after the fifth try, the sheet cracked, creating a spider web pattern. I slammed my elbow against the hard surface again, this time resulting in the entire thing shattering and shooting random chunks of glass through the water.

I felt elation pump through every underlying surface of my body at my victory just as the suction started. Water was being ripped through the empty window and crashing into the previously dry contents of the car. My arms flailed through the liquid and I tried to keep myself from getting sucked in, but was unsuccessful. My lungs were plagued from the lack of air as the suction pulled my body towards the vehicle. And as I slipped through the window and into darkness, I finally let out a deafening scream.

I shot upright in bed; covers flying through the air as I did. My hand was clutched over my heart, which was beating with the precision of a jackhammer, and I was gasping for breath. The top layer of my skin was covered in a fresh sheen of sweat and when I glanced at myself in the mirror, located directly across my room, I noticed my hair was matted to the left side of my face. I looked like shit, which was appropriate since I felt like absolute shit, and realized that this way by no means the way I wanted to start this particular day.

It was the anniversary of my parent's death, hence the devastatingly realistic dream, and it was going to be difficult enough to get through without waking up the way I had. I was supposed to wake up feeling refreshed and then slowly dwindle my way down to the emotional train wreck I'd inevitably become, not start out that way.

I cursed my subconscious for kicking my ass this morning and especially for bringing Stefan into my thoughts because I didn't want to think about my ex-boyfriend or the way he'd made me feel before that fateful day. Those were feelings he'd taken advantage of and smashed against concrete with a sledgehammer.

The delicious smell of pancakes slipped through my nostrils as I took a frustrated breath and ran my hands through my pathetic excuse for hair. I shook my head slowly because I knew Jenna was trying, and she'd obviously thought a batch of my mother's pancakes would bring me comfort today, but instead it just made my heart ache. That familiar darkness floated around the area and I rubbed it a few times before making my way over to the mirror.

My eyes were sunken in, dark craters dove along underneath, and I looked like I hadn't slept well in weeks. All in all, I looked exactly the way I should on a day such as this one. I contemplated crawling back under the confinement of my sheets, when my tummy let out a protesting growl. And with one last look in the mirror, I decided I was suitable enough to be seen by Jenna and made my way down the stairs.

There were voices coming from the living room, but it wasn't until I'd reached the bottom of the staircase that I realized why both masculine tones sounded familiar. I stopped dead in my tracks, as Ric and Damon turned their heads to take in my appearance.

This time, I mentally cursed this stupid day, not myself, because what the hell was Damon doing in my aunt's living room? He was never supposed to step foot in this house and it destroyed all of my efforts at keeping myself distanced from him.

I'd spent the past three days, locked in this house, helping Jenna apply calligraphy to all of her wedding invitations because I figured that this was my safe haven. And now Damon had stripped me of that too. First he'd tried to break through my protective barriers, but this time he'd successfully removed my safety house.

And besides, I was in a skimpy purple camisole and plaid pajama shorts. My hair was matted to the side of my freaking face and my eyes looked as empty as a skeleton's. Needless to say, I was fuming and he was the last person I needed to bump into this morning.

But if he'd been attempting to catch me off-guard, it wasn't registering on his expression. As a matter of fact, he looked as downright shocked as I felt. His mouth was hanging slightly open and his eyes were wide enough to separate his blue irises in a sea of white, when Ric made a coughing noise in the back of his throat.

"Elena," he started nervously as his hand pointed towards Damon. "I guess now is as good a time as any for you to meet my best man."

At that, it was time for my mouth to drop open and reflect Damon's because did Ric just say what I thought he'd said?

"This is Damon Salvatore," Ric introduced as his eyes tried their best to hit everywhere in the room besides my scanty attire.

Damon said nothing, and it was clear to see that Ric had no idea the two of us had met before. I didn't understand how Damon could possibly be Ric's best friend, especially considering the age difference, but I wasn't going to stick around and find out. Because Damon's expression went from pure shock to sad understanding in the blink of an eye and it was then I knew my truth was no longer an issue between us. I'm sure Ric had told him all about his poor niece whose parents died and I certainly wasn't in the mood to have this guy try and be my savior. Not on a day like today where I was as fragile as I was.

So, I threw my pointer finger into the air, closed my eyes, and shook my head. "No," I objected as my matted hair swiveled around my face. And then without muttering another word, I twisted around and headed back up the stairs. I knew it was rude, but frankly I didn't care. Jenna could explain to Ric later why I'd acted out.

And when she crept through my door a half hour later with a tray of pancakes in hand and an innocent expression on her face, I knew she understood why I'd done what I'd done. Well, at least partially.

Still, I felt the need to apologize. "I'm sorry about what happened downstairs, I just…"

But she shook her head and took a seat next to me on the bed. "It's fine. Today's a rough day on both of us and Ric, well, he just doesn't get it. But don't worry, they left and I made sure to give him a small scolding for inviting a guest on the way out."

Secretly I wished I could have seen Jenna in the art of scolding a grown man, but I hid it well and countered, "Jenna, you didn't have to do that."

But she simply winked her right eye and justified, "How else am I supposed to train him?"

"Good point," I replied as she slid the pancakes onto my lap. That was the thing about Jenna, although I knew she didn't necessarily agree with my stance on men, she always knew which comment to pick to stroke my man-hater side. Plus, I had to give it to her; the woman knew how to wear the pants in a relationship.

"Thanks for the pancakes," I said as I took a warm, fluffy bite. It was drenched in the perfect amount of sweet syrup and tasted delicious as it fell onto my tongue. I savored the taste a moment, passing it back and forth between both sides of teeth before swallowing.

"Of course, I thought they might cheer you up," Jenna stated enthusiastically; satisfied with her work. "But just so you know, the boys will be gone for most of the day, so you're safe to leave the room. I won't judge you for tears and if we need to, I can whip out a carton of Ben and Jerry's from the freezer. I think I even have Dublin Mudslide; you're favorite."

"Oh," I gasped as soon as I managed to swallow another bite of pancake. "Jenna, that's really nice and the offers tempting, but I was just gonna head over to Bonnie's and spend the day there."

"Sure, no problem. I have a ton of wedding crap to do anyway," she explained with a forced level of understanding. But I could see through her completely and saw she was disappointed.

Everyone knew I preferred spending this anniversary with Bonnie. She was the only person who didn't expect me to sit there and talk about my feelings all day. She was still supportive in her own way, which involved mass consumptions of alcohol to dull my painful memories, but she never forced me to talk about anything I didn't feel like talking about. Actually, she preferred it, really.

And as much as I wanted to spend today throwing back shots of Jim, Jack, Johnnie, and Jose', my conscious had me throwing out, "You sure it's okay?"

But in typical Jenna fashion, she adhered a friendly smile to her lips and assured, "Of course, you do what you gotta do. And I'll leave a fresh glass of water and a few aspirin on your nightstand for whenever you get home tonight."

I smiled and considered how lucky I was to have Jenna for my aunt because, really, how many aunt's left a hangover kit on the side of their niece's bed? My guess was – not that many. But seeing as how it was the only night a year I didn't enforce my two drink limit; the only night I allowed myself to binge drink for reasons that are fairly obvious, it was understanding why she would. Jenna knew my habits, she understood my habits, and for that I was thankful.

So, I leaned over my tray of pancakes, wrapped my arms around her, and whispered a heartfelt, "Thank you."


Just liked I preferred, my day was been spent at Bonnie's, where luckily, no talk of my parents occurred. She kept me occupied with a marathon of John Hughes movies, occasional shots, and yes, even a tub of Dublin Mudslide ice cream. There had been no sappy tears and overall, she'd done a fabulous job of keeping my mind from drifting to the one place I didn't want it to.

Now, we found ourselves at Jerry's Pub, where the drinking section of my day went into full effect. Caroline had asked to join us and after some serious contemplation, I'd agreed under the regulation that she didn't bring up my parents or anything involving around them or what day it was. And so far, she'd stuck by my guidelines, making for a very tolerable evening.

"Two more shots for my ladies, Ben," Bonnie called across the bar to the bartender. She wasn't drinking with us tonight since she was the designated driver, but that hadn't stopped her from making sure Caroline and I had a steady stream of alcohol pouring down the backs of our throats.

Caroline and I giggled, which was rather miraculous for me, considering the day, and when Ben placed the two shots of Soco and lime onto the bar, we lifted them into the air.

"This time, we're cheersing the fact that this bar is here," Caroline shouted, resulting in a round of hoots and hollers from a section of older gentleman at the end of the bar.

Bonnie chuckled and rolled her eyes, when I clinked my shot glass against the blonde's and agreed, "Yes, thank you to Jerry; whoever the hell Jerry is."

We drank our shots and as the liquid passed over my tongue and down into my stomach, I could already feel its magical warmth take effect. I couldn't tell you how many shots I'd taken through the course of the day, although I had to guess it was easily in the double digits, but I knew I'd consumed enough to be feeling good; really good. I wasn't drunk and my vision was still moderately in focus, but I was definitely in that perfect buzzed state.

Caroline, who was obviously a bit more intoxicated than myself, slammed her empty shot glass onto the bar and suggested, "Now that we're nice and tipsy, can we please go to Matt Donovan's party?"

My head jerked to stare at the blonde as Bonnie's did the same and she questioned, "Why the hell would you want to go to your ex-boyfriend's party?"

"Because he asked me to come," Caroline answered innocently.

I shook my head back and forth, feeling my brain rub up against the side of my skull as I did, and speculated, "I don't think that's a great idea, Care."

"When did you and Matt start talking again?" Bonnie asked; an incredulous expression on her face.

"You can wipe the perplexed looks off your faces guys," Caroline scoffed with a roll of her eyes. "I saw him at the bonfire and he said he'd been doing a lot of thinking. He knows he didn't treat me well…"

"That's an understatement and a half," I muttered under my breath, resulting in a sideways glare from my optimistic friend before she continued on.

"And he wants to give us another shot," she declared with a pleased smile.

I felt my jaw sag slightly at her information because clearly Caroline wasn't remembering the same Matt I was. The Matt I remembered had cheated on my best friend, leaving her emotionally unstable for months and under no circumstances deserved a second chance with her again.

But Bonnie was the one to speak an opposition first. "You're an idiot," she assessed without a tone of remorse following the statement.

I sighed at my friend's blunt delivery and said, "What Bonnie's trying to say is, Matt hurt you, Caroline, really bad. He doesn't deserve a second chance and you shouldn't give him one."

Caroline nervously twirled a ribbon of her hair around her index finger and explained, "But we've been talking and it really seems like he's changed."

"Again, you're an idiot," Bonnie muttered as she took a sip of her diet coke.

"Again," I added with a sideways look at my ebony friend, "What Bonnie's trying to say is, guys like Matt don't change. I know you want him to, but it's never going to happen."

"How would you know?" she asked defensively. "You haven't talked to him since you've been back."

"True, but I know who he used to be," I rationalized. "Don't buy into the crap he's feeding you now because he's just going to hurt you again."

"You don't know that," Caroline snarkily replied.

"Yes, I do," I countered softly. I could see my friend's armor being set into place and reasoned, "Care, I know you're optimistic about guys and the whole relationship bit, but can't you see that Bonnie and I are just trying to protect you?"

But she shook her head through the air and heatedly replied, "No. What I see is the two of you trying to force your opinions on me. I expected it from you," she accused with a heated glance towards Bonnie, "because you've never trusted men. But not from you, Elena."

I narrowed my eyes in her direction and claimed, "That's not fair." I knew my friend was just upset because I hadn't sided with her on the whole Matt ordeal, but I didn't like the fact that she was attacking me because of it.

"What's not fair is you trying to pull me over to the dark side with you," she countered. "Look, I've humored this whole converted opinion of yours when it came to guys because Stefan hurt you."

"He didn't just hurt me, Caroline, he destroyed me," I shouted back at her. "He got drunk and smashed his car into the side of my parents', ultimately killing them. I think that accounts for a little more than hurt!"

"Fine, he destroyed you, and I've sat back and watched you let Bonnie influence your stance on relationships because of it," she argued; all of the remorse I was accustomed to receiving from her gone. "But here's a tip from me, Stefan was one guy, he doesn't account for every other member of his species. And just because he let you down doesn't mean the rest of them will follow in his footsteps."

My mouth was hanging open and I'd never been more offended in my life. Caroline was supposed to be the friend that was there for me when I needed her, the one who supported me; not the one that threw my issues across the ground and threatened to run them over with a bus if I didn't acknowledge them.

I was angry with her, for choosing today of all days to confront me and my problems, and as a result, my eyes hazed over with traitorous liquid.

She saw it immediately, and her expression softened at the sight. "I'm sorry to bring it up. I know I promised I wouldn't talk about it today."

She then tried to slide her arm around my back and offer me the support she'd just denied. But I was pissed and beyond consolable, especially from someone like her. So I swatted her arm away and muttered, "Whatever."

"Fine, whatever," she scoffed, clearly agitated with my dismissal, before she hopped off of her bar stool and stomped out of the pub's front doors.

I heard Bonnie let out a frustrated sigh from two seats away, before she twisted her head in my direction and said, "Considering the turn of events, I'm going to take Caroline to the party. I don't think it's a great idea having the two of you around each other right now, but I'll be right back after I drop her off. Unless, you'd rather go to the party."

I thought about the idea of standing in a crowded house with all of my high school friends as they wrapped their arms around me and threw false sincerity into their, I'm so sorry's. My nose scrunched up at the revolting image and I answered, "I'll just wait here."

"You sure you're going to be okay," Bonnie asked; a rare form of concern fluttering across her caramel irises.

"I have alcohol and Ben," I said. "I'll be fine."

"Okay then, I'll be back before you know it," she informed before she swiveled on her black pumps and chased after Caroline.

I called out, "Ben, another shot!" and wondered how this day had ended up like it had. I was thoroughly pissed and felt slightly betrayed by Caroline's accusations because seriously, I wasn't that terrible. I always thought I'd handled the situation of my parent's death relatively well.

I mean, I'd just put up a few barriers to protect my heart. I hadn't become the girl that threw her middle finger into the air, cursing everything and everyone in her path. I hadn't fallen onto the dark path of drugs or alcoholism to deal with my pain. I didn't usually scream at my friends and I certainly wasn't someone that the average person would view as emotionally damaged.

I'd simply buried my pain, hid it well from the common eye. So why was it such an issue that I had a problem trusting men? Considering my past and what had happened, I thought my stance on the opposite sex was completely justified.

"Here you go, Elena," Ben stated as he set the shot of whatever in front of my clenched fists.

"Thanks," I muttered under my breath before lifting the shot to my lips and throwing it down the back of my throat. The warmth it supplied hit me instantly, melting my icy insides and instead replacing them with the dreaded memories of nostalgia.

I thought about Stefan and the way I'd loved him; completely and naturally, no second guessing whatsoever because I hadn't been tainted by painful memories. How comfortable I'd felt in his presence and how just a simple touch from him resulted in the sensation that I was alive; complete and utterly alive. Our tangled bodies lying together on my bed; our hands incapable of keeping themselves from drifting to each other's. The way my heart fluttered when I gazed into his topaz gems, the reflection of my smile always present within them.

That was the way I'd felt the last moment I saw him, the moment before everything was ripped from me. I'd tried to talk him into staying over because I knew he'd had too much to drink, but he'd insisted he was fine. Foolishly, I'd let him go and only a half hour later I'd heard him over my cell phone line. His voice was shaky, weak, as he explained the accident. He'd had to stop halfway through when his breath hitched and he spat out the words, "I'm so sorry," followed by the statement concerning my parents and their end that sent me tumbling to the floor.

I could hear him coming through the other end of my cell phone, but I'd dropped it in the process of falling and couldn't possibly remove my hands from around my stomach to pick it back up. Painful sobs ripped through me as I tried to keep myself from unraveling, but ultimately I'd been unsuccessful.

Because death is a difficult thing to comprehend in the first place, but death by the hands of someone you love is even more unfathomable. I loved Stefan, almost as much as my parents, but he'd stripped me of every bit of trust I'd held for him. And I knew he hadn't meant to do what he had, but that didn't undo the accident and that didn't bring my parents back.

He was rotting in some prison now under the charge of first degree vehicular manslaughter and I'd never been able to bring myself to visit him. I had no idea what I'd say to him if I did because a large part of me hated him. He'd taken my love and abused it, not intentionally, but still, he'd betrayed me in the most awful way. And it's difficult to respect someone that you loved as much as I loved him after they've taken away the only thing you loved more. Once that happens, there's really no coming back. And every day I'm reminded of the way I'd given myself over to him only to have it thrown back in my face.

So yes, I was once a type A Caroline romantic type, firmly believing in everything fairytales assured you could come true. But then I'd been given a shot of reality and grew up, accepted that only villains walked this earth, and that happy endings didn't exist. I mean, I'd allowed myself to be happy once, but look at where that happiness left me. From my experience, happy endings were simply stories that hadn't ended yet.

I pushed back a wave of stupid tears and lifted my pointer finger into the air. "Another shot, Ben. And make it a double."

I then let out a sigh and lowered my chin to rest on my hand as someone took the seat beside me. I knew who it was, I could sense him even in my clouded state, and was not thrilled.

"It's official, you're stalking me," I accused as Ben set the new shot onto the bar.

I threw it back with ease as Damon countered, "In my defense, my roommate wanted to go to a party at some kid Matt's house and I objected. Seeing as how this is the only bar in town, it's where I wound up."

"Well-crafted lie," I offered as I nodded my head in appreciation. And without looking in Damon's direction, I ordered, "Two more shots."

I could feel Damon's eyes boring a hole straight through the side of my face as he stressed, "It's not a lie."

Ben set the shots in front of us. I heard Damon thank the bartender as I lifted the glass and shot it back. "Sure it's not."

I then finally turned my attention to Damon just as he was shooting back his own shot and asked accusingly, "Did Alaric send you here to look after me?"

Damon chuckled at my paranoia and set his empty glass back onto the bar as he reasoned. "I told you, I came here on my own, with no pretense of running into you. I honestly had no idea you'd be here."

I studied his expression for any signs that he was lying, but came up empty handed. And after a moment, I realized that perhaps he was telling the truth. Fate kept throwing this guy my way with a persistence that marveled Alexander the Great and maybe this was just another coincidental run in.

So I sighed and rolled my eyes as I gave in. "Fine, I believe you."

"Good," he declared with an absurd degree of enthusiasm, "but while we're on the subject of Ric, I feel the need to tell you, the man's scared shitless of you."

The statement had come from him with such nonchalance that I couldn't hold back the laugh. It burst between my teeth and into the air before I managed to recompose myself. It was then I turned on Damon, lowered my lids, and playfully threatened, "And he has good reason to be, I'm a man-hater didn't you know?"

"I kind of picked up on that, yeah," he retorted with a roll of his eyes. "But he's going to be your uncle in law, so maybe you could cut him a little slack. He's a good guy once you get to know him."

It was then my attitude changed slightly because I hated the fact that Damon now knew all about my family drama. I was supposed to remain a mystery to him, but with the sudden revelation of him and Ric's friendship, that seemed impossible. This new kink was mildly irritating, but I figured that if he knew about my personal life, I deserved to know about his. So I narrowed my eyes and asked, "How do you know him exactly?"

Damon, who had ordered a local beer on tap, lifted his mug to his lips and took a sip. As he set it back down, he turned his eyes on me and answered, "He was my professor in college. Ric was only a few years older than myself and we shared a lot of interests. One thing led to another, and we just sort of became friends."

I nodded at his information, finding it considerably ordinary and believable, as Ben walked past us. I threw my hand out to him and ordered, "Two more shots."

Ben acknowledged me with a nod of his head and I smiled at the promise of more alcohol. But then Damon's hand extended and latched onto my forearm, lowering it down to the wood, as he asked, "Don't you think you've had enough?"

Normally, I would have shot back a snarky response about minding his own business, but when I looked into his eyes, they showed nothing but concern. Plus, with the alcohol swimming through my brain, I didn't really have the mental stamina to stick with my typical conversational skills. So I held back my typical quip and instead replied, "On any other day, yes, but not today. There's not enough shots that could cure today."

The left edge of his lips lifted into a sad smile as he said softly, "I know this is probably the last thing you want to talk about, but Ric told me about the accident."

I sighed, knowing this moment was inevitable. Of course Damon would bring it up, because it was my weak point. It was his in, his way to breaking through my rough exterior, figuring out the real me and the reasons behind why I was so damaged. He could play his part as my savior, fixing and mending me back into a girl that trusted again. Use me for what I was able to offer before he ultimately got tired of me and threw me back to the wolves.

I wasn't interested in any of that, but I was curious about one thing. "How much did he tell you?"

"Enough," Damon answered sincerely.

"Oh, I doubt that," I responded cheekily, feeling relief sweeping its way through me. Because if Ric had told him the entire story, Damon's answer, without a doubt, would have been everything.

To my surprise, he didn't take the bait of my temptation and instead let out a sigh. "Well, I know the basics of what happened to your parents and I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

He was turned in my direction now and as I studied his expression, I could tell he truly was sincere about his apology. "You really mean that don't you?" I asked, slightly surprised.

He knitted his brows at my question, appeared somewhat offended, and responded, "Of course, why wouldn't I?"

"Because when most people say it to me, they're just words," I explained. My eyes were incapable of pulling themselves from his as I added, "They don't ever mean anything."

Damon's shoulders shrugged slightly as he justified, "We'll I meant them because I understand how you feel."

"How could you possibly understand how I feel?" I asked accusingly, the offensive heat trailing through my voice as it left my lips.

There was a flash of sadness across his blue irises before he lowered them to the floor and proclaimed softly, "Because I lost my parents too."

Words failed to produce themselves in my throat because it felt like he'd just punched me in the gut. That was certainly the last statement I'd ever expected to come from his lips and for the briefest moment, I felt comforted. It was a selfish sensation, but for the first time since my parents accident, I'd found someone who understood what I was going through.

For so long, I'd been bearing this experience on my own, but now fate had delivered me someone who recognized the trauma of losing their parents so early in life. I felt relieved, but at the same time sympathetic because I knew what he obviously went through. And it was that thought that had me spilling out, "I'm sorry," with the same sincerity he previously had.

But unlike me, he seemed unphased by my empathy, like he'd experienced it a million times before. I momentarily considered the thought that maybe it was because he was more willing to accept it from others that I was as he threw his shoulders into the motion of a shrug and dismissed, "It's alright, it happened a while ago."

Then he flipped his eyebrows playfully towards the ceiling and added, "But I'll tell you the story some other time. Tonight's about you and if you want to get drunk, I'm more than happy to join you."

His signature smirk appeared on his lips, but this time I had no urge to whack it off of his face. It was like I was seeing him in a completely different light and the vision was truly spectacular. My walls were no longer up because surely if he'd been through the same thing as me, he'd have no motive to hurt me further.

I studied the features of his face: following the creases that came from a familiar history of pain, hovering over the defining arches of his eyebrows that held so much life, before finally settling onto his eyes. They were vivid and bright, the exact blue that came with the calming thought of the ocean. I could feel them penetrating into me, never wavering from the heavy contact of mine.

And I'm sure alcohol played a huge factor, but suddenly I could feel the waves rolling off of him; crashing into my base and receding, aching for me to follow. Each wave dragged me just a little bit closer until I finally decided to give in.

It was what he wanted after all, and I no longer felt the fear of denying it from him nor myself.

So I lifted my lips into a smile, feeling the familiar pull on the edges, and declared, "Let's get drunk, but first I just want to try something."

I then closed my eyes and breached his personal space, eliminating all boundaries between us, when I felt his hands make contact with my shoulders. They pressed slightly against my skin, holding me in place before softly pushing me backwards.

It was then my eyes shot open and I could feel the heat of embarrassment spread across my cheeks as I exclaimed, "What the hell, Damon? I thought this was what you wanted."

His features were contorted in a way that revealed how uncomfortable he was. It was clear to see he was struggling, but I couldn't read if it was because he actually wanted to kiss me or because he wasn't sure how to let me down easily. My mind was reeling, flipping through all of his previous signs that I might have possibly misread, and I was feeling more mortified by the second.

His eyes spoke apologies that his lips were apparently incapable of producing. And after a long moment, he finally sighed and slipped his hands down my shoulders and along my arms. I could feel the heat of his skin through the thin cotton fabric as he began, "Elena, I…"

"Elena!" Bonnie exclaimed as the door of Jerry's Pub swung open. "Are we drinking or what?"

My eyes broke from Damon's to take in my best friend and it was then I realized that this entire incident had been a mistake. I'd let my guard down for one second, given him what I thought he wanted, and already Damon had disappointed me. I felt humiliated, my cheeks burned with anger, both towards myself and him, and I no longer wanted any part of it. All I wanted was to get the hell away from him, this bar, and just bury myself underneath of my sheets, ending this god-awful day once and for all.

So I shook my head and replied, "No, I'm ready to go. I'll meet you at the car," ignoring Bonnie's flabbergasted expression.

I then dug through my clutch and pulled out a stack of twenties, figured five were enough to cover the damage of the night, and threw them onto the wood of the bar. Just as I was about to turn around, Damon's hand wrapped around my arm and he forced me to look at him.

"Will you just let me explain?" he asked impatiently. There was a pleading consistency in his eyes that would have earlier had me wavering, but not now; not after feeling the reality sting of his rejection.

"There's no need," I dismissed, making sure the acid dripped through my words, and added, "Goodnight, Damon.," before I snapped my arm out of his grasp and briskly walked out the front door.


A/N: Well, this chapter was a bit of a downer, but I promise to return to the regular tone in the next one. Also, I just wanted to clarify that Stefan and Damon have no relation in this story and Elena doesn't have a brother. Sorry to those of you who like Jeremy.

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