STEFAN's POV

Surrounded by the dim candle lights and the last bit of sunlight as the day comes to a close, I'm finding it hard to think of a time when Elena has ever looked more beautiful – we've been at this patio table at La Catalan's drinking wine, watching the tide, and talking. The way Elena glows when she talks about Allie, it's a beauty I've never seen before. There's a warmth of love in her eyes that burns into me, makes me long to be part of that reality. I listened to her tell stories about our daughter – learning that her favorite bedtime book is Where The Wild Things Grow, like me, she loves mornings, and like Elena, loves to dance. I made it through it though it was painful to hear about a life I'm so close to but will never have – it's the only thing I've ever wanted in my life and the only thing I cannot acquire as a vampire.

Luckily, the wine kicked in and Elena changed the subject to books and movies and music. It's an easy, first date kind of conversation that lets me watch Elena laugh. It's my most favorite sight in the world, my favorite sound… it's captivating. We're two bottles of sauvignon blanc down and she's just asked the waiter for a another. I know it's not a good idea, but I have a hard time telling her what to do. If she wants to drink a few glasses of wine with our salads and bouillabaisse , who am I to deny her. Even with the pills and what not, I can't force her to rehabilitate and I can't be completely sure that the wine has anything to do with the fact that she's most likely going through withdraws. It's kind of nice, her being so relaxed like this. Elena has always been a bit of a light-weight when it comes to alcohol, so I'm sure this fourth glass is going to tide her over for the night.

She's wearing that steel grey dress with her hair in loose curls down her back, a light bit of makeup, and what I know to be her mother's diamond stud earrings. There's something incredibly sexy about her crimson red heels – strappy and suggestive on her perfect feet. Other than the earrings, the only other jewelry is what she now knows is her engagement ring. I take it as a good sign that even with the knowledge that wearing it means she's promised to me, she hasn't taken it off.

"Okay, I have it!" She's been trying to think of a book I haven't read. I keep telling her that I don't have a whole lot else to do and it's part of my job, but she's determined. "Fifty Shades of Grey?"

I nod with a guilty smile and she has to cover her laugh with her hands. From her reaction, I can guess that she's read it too. "So tell me," Shaking her hair back off of her shoulders, trying to straighten up from her laughing fit, she sips her wine then asks, "what is your professional opinion?"

"About Fifty Shades?" I ask, tipping the rest of my wine into my mouth, then grabbing the new bottle to refill my glass as I answer her question. "Professionally, I would have published it for the simple fact that sex sells. As an editor though, it could have been cut down to one book without each and every sexual encounter taking up four or five pages." I sit back in my seat; let my eyes run down her crossed, bare legs to those shoes. Joking, I add, "But then again, I wouldn't have finished the trilogy if it weren't for the sex."

Elena's voice is all of a sudden less playful, more seductive. "I get the feeling that sex with Stefan Salvatore would probably deserve more than four or five pages."

Granted I'm caught off guard by her come-on, but I'm also buzzing from five glasses of wine in less than ninety minutes while looking over the girl of my dreams – a comeback of equal measure is easy to conjure. I say with a smile, "With you, there are not enough words..."

I let my eyes move from hers to watch her mouth as she involuntarily licks her lips – I play it cool like I'm not wanting to tip the table over in order to get to her when she leans towards me and says "You're a smart guy, big vocabulary - Try..."

Between the way she looks, the burn in her eyes, and her forwardness, she's getting the reaction she's looking for - turning me on, making me pine for her. Thinking about making love to her makes my lungs hurt – I want her badly and my mind is recalling the way her eyes close when I move in her, how her lips swell from the friction of our kisses, the way she gently raises her eyebrows and widens her eyes just before she finishes. The way she says my name in a way that only she can…

She's sitting here waiting for me to answer her challenge – sexy and confident, her hair barely moving in the breeze – I just start talking. "There's a connection; a grounding and electricity is burning through us. It's like being robbed of air, drowning in heat. The way you breathe does as much to me as your body. It's this mixture of greed and giving that's sinful and virtuous at the same time. I lose myself, I lose track of time, forget that anything else exists – it's just you and me."

Looking at her, I have no idea what she's thinking. She's no longer smiling, but her lips are slightly parted and I think I see them form a small o when she exhales. I'm sure of it when I see her chest cave and her chin tremble as she pushes out her breath – this tight lung, tingling nerves, mouth watering craving that I'm fighting is the same thing she's experiencing. Telling myself that its simply inappropriate to lift her from the seat she's in and take her back to my car, I overhear someone at another table order a Guinness and I'm reminded of the night we came back to Mystic Falls from Miami – our few hours of seclusion, before anyone knew that I was alive – and I smile. A big, idiot, wow-that-is-a-great-memory kind of smile and it breaks the tension between us a bit.

She fans her face with her hand dramatically – Elena is trying to deflect but I don't miss the new redness to her lips or the flush of her cheeks. "Wow."When she shakes her head at me, I just laugh - a little embarrassed, a little frustrated with the fact that no matter how badly I want her or how she responds, my desires will have to be ignored. "You have a way with words."

Chandler's Wharf isn't a large neighborhood, encompassing the oldest part Wilmington, so we decided to walk from the French wine bar to Cape Fear River Deck where the event is being held. Elena held my hand for the entire walk as she took in the beautiful waterside view and colonial buildings. I pointed out my apartment building and a great deli, as well as a park that she and Allie might want to visit. Its funny, the way we're falling back into the comfort of each other. Elena doesn't remember me really, and it's been four years of solitude for me, but the way we are together is natural.

The band is loud, but good. After standing at the edge of the crowd of people watching them perform a few songs, she led me around through the silent auction tables – I made a mental note to go back to one of the tables that had a mother-daughter spa package and place a bid… a large, will-absolutely-win bid. I could tell by the amount of attention she paid to the package details that she wanted it for her and Allie, but she can't afford it. As I've said, I can't be with Elena and I can't be Allie's father, but I'll take care of them.

There are five or six white-clothed tables with silver trays full of hors d'oeuvres and desserts, an open bar, and waiters with platters full of long stemmed glasses brimming with sparkling, gold champagne. It bothers me, just a little, that Elena skips the food choices but takes a glass from a passing waiter.

"You know, wine makes you twice as hung over as any other alcohol." I whisper, loudly, over the music and the crowd. Elena just smiles back at me, our hands still together, as I trail behind her on our way to the tables seated on the opposite end from the band. The further away we get from the music, the easier it is to talk and the older the crowd. Elena takes us to the table closest to the water and nearly stumbles over her high heel when she takes a seat. I almost say something, but her laugh distracts me and I end up captivated and forgetting that I was upset.

Looking up at the lines of outdoor lights crisscrossing over the uncovered seating area, Elena's nearly black eyes reflect the multiple orbs of light and it actually looks like she has stars in her eyes – the sight warms me deep inside – I love her. "Are these lights always here? It's beautiful."

"I think so. I'm usually only down here in the mornings when I run." I sit. Something about her starry eyes is making me feel sad, makes me miss her even though she's right in front of me.

Elena rolls her eyes at me playfully, crosses her legs as she leans back and slouches in her seat. "So if you didn't run and exercise and all, would you get fat?"

"I don't think so, I don't know really. I exercise to curb my hunger and it's a good way for me to clear my head. Besides I don't really eat many calories with my nutritional needs."

"You are good with words!" She laughs again. I know she's drunk, but I've never seen her laugh so easily so often and I love it at the same time that I'm bothered by her overdoing it. "Nutritional needs sounds much better than blood is low fat." I take a drink of my water and look out over the black ocean. I get lost in my thoughts about how I wish this night would go versus how I know it should end. I can still hear the band and most of the lyrics are all endless love and deep heartbreak – it resonates with me. Elena gets my attention by playfully rubbing her foot on the inside of my calf, "Twenty questions?" she asks.

She's drunk, I can hear it in her voice and see it in her glassy eyes but her touching, flirty ways have me thrown off guard – I smile and nod.

"I remember you left with Klaus, but what happened after you left? Where did Damon go?"

Damon questions again… "He stayed with you." She raises one eyebrow, "When did he leave?"

I don't want to answer this question. I'll regret for the rest of my life that Damon never left her and I did. I'll never forgive myself for hurting her by not keeping in contact when I left with Klaus, then when I left for Italy… my absence created a gaping hole that Damon filled. Damon was the better man as he never left her side. "Isn't it my turn to ask?" I try with a weak smile.

Elena answers in a sing-song voice, "Nope. I'm the one with memory loss so I get to ask all the questions!"

I sigh, pressing the air out of tight lips – I can't even look at her when I say it. "He didn't. Damon stayed with you while I was with Klaus. He helped you try and find me, bring me back to Mystic Falls. Then, later, when I left for Italy he stayed; you dated awhile."

"Ha!" Elena looks like she's just heard the most ridiculous story in the world. "I would have never dated Damon. You, okay… I can see that, but Damon – no way."

That actually makes me feel good – great, really. I laugh with her for a moment, "No really. You really cared for him by the time I got back to town with Klaus."

"Shut up! I can't believe that. He killed Jeremy! He fed off of Caroline… no way!"

I shrug. I was just as shocked when I realized she'd developed feelings for him as she is now – I just wasn't' as tickled by it.

When I don't offer any more information or renege my statement, Elena seems to think it over for a long moment. I look at the ground, remember how alone I was when I found out she loved Damon, how it broke me when she slept with him in Spain.

It's almost like she's picked up my thoughts when she asks, "Did I really take classes in Spain?"

"Yep. Barcelona." I'm not going to talk about Spain. I won't. I don't think I can. I know I had no hold over Elena while she was there; we'd broken up and she was free to see whomever she wanted – including my brother, but it doesn't change the fact that it destroyed me.

Thankfully, she doesn't press it – she doesn't know anything of consequence happened. "Have I been anywhere else, besides Spain?"

Choosing my words carefully is getting difficult. Honestly, I'm getting tired of not being able to tell her the truth. "Naples, Italy during your freshman year Thanksgiving break. Miami for your first spring break, then a few months later Rome." Elena looks at me like I'm lying to her – I can't imagine how this must sound. Surely there was some kind of lie set in place of her actual memory. "Not what you thought?"

She blinks a few times, finishes her champagne in a large gulp. "No… not at all. I can't believe I've traveled to Europe three times and can't remember it at all." Elena sounds sad. The sorrowful tone in her voice makes me feel for her.

"And Miami." I remind her

"I remember Miami." My furrowed brow must tell her that I'm doubtful as she goes into more depth without me asking. "I spent a week there and had a great time." The sound of her voice doesn't match her words – what should be a memory of fun and youth is just a forced response. The sentence sounds as hollow as her memory of the week in Miami that she never had. Elena notices it too, purses her lips and looks at the ground. Even the large amount of alcohol she's consumed doesn't seem to be enough to numb her the way she's hoping.

"I met up with you in Miami on the first night you got to town. I flew in from Italy to find you." The memory of her dancing in that Cuban club with Bonnie and Caroline washes over me right about the same time a cool breeze hits us from the ocean – I don't know which I should blame for the shiver than runs through my back muscles. I stood against the wall of that club, human me watching human Elena – terrified of talking to her. Eager to start our human lives together and so scared she would run – and she did! She didn't believe me. I smile when I think of how I had to chase her down and quickly rattle off our memories – Mr. Tanner's class, taking her to my father's house the day I explained about vampires …how she wouldn't let me hide from her. "You were there with Caroline and Bonnie. That's where I found out about you and Damon dating… it's also where I bought the Lexus you mentioned earlier."

The fretful expression on her face tells me that none of that this is making any sense. "No… I remember us riding in it together…"

I nod. "I drove us back to Mystic Falls the next morning. Damon needed you." It's not a lie, but it's not the truth. If she can't believe that we met up in Miami there is no way she'll believe that I was human. "Caroline and Bonnie stayed for the week."

Elena shakes her head and I feel terrible that she's coming to the realization that most of what she believes to be true are lies. "Bonnie has told me stories of what we did, how we had so much fun… She's lied to me about everything… " She looks at me like she's trying to read me, figure out a puzzle. "She told me you and Damon kind of used me. That you were both hung up on Katherine and I was kind of 2.0 version that you two competed over. She said you were kind of a player with the girls in town and that I was just another conquest to you." When she pauses, waiting for me to deny it, I stay silent – let her work through her thoughts. "That wasn't true, was it? You really loved me."

I can't answer her – I more than loved her and I don't feel any different in this moment than I did when I married her in Rome. I just nod, unable to look away from her beautiful face.

"I just don't understand, why would she want me to hate you?"

I'm not really ready to let go of that first date feel from earlier and Elena's too drunk to hear that she was compelled to forget the father of her child because he'd been murdered by an Original vampire. It's not the right time, but I don't know how to detour around the truth, so I'll leave it up to Elena. "I can tell you everything, right here right now. Or we can spend the rest of this night ignorant to all the hell we've been through and just have a good time drinking more wine and dancing, and who knows, I may even break your no flirting rule and try to steal a kiss."

The hurt look that was on her face disappears into a sweet smile. "You're right. We can talk about all of that tomorrow. Just one question, is Caroline even alive?"

Shit. May as well tell her. I look at her, really take her in just in case she storms off and I don't see her again. "Caroline is my girlfriend."

There's that sharpness in her eyes again – I'm starting to realize that she pushes past whatever is causing the dull gaze in her eyes when she's angry. "Caroline Forbes?" I nod, purse my lips. "I knew you had a thing for her!"

I hold up my finger – I was never been even almost unfaithful to Elena, not even in my imagination and I won't let her believe that I anything less than devoted to her. "No… not until you and I were over with. And even then it was a year or two later."

"I distinctly remember you looking at Caroline like you do – all burning eyes and clenched jaw." Elena adjusts in her seat, uncrossing her legs then crossing them again. "I was right to be suspicious of you two!"

I give a little laugh – it's fake and it's obviously forced "Oh no no, trust me when I tell you you've got that all wrong."

"Stefan, I saw you with her!" Elena attempts to stand but quickly realizes she's wobbly and sits back down.

I have no idea what she's talking about - seeing me with Caroline – it's got to be some part of Damon's compulsion. The idea that Damon would actually tell Elena that I was with Caroline irks me. "When?"

Her eyes dance around me – from my face to the ground, to the candle light on the table, up to the hanging lights, back to the table. It's like something turns on inside of her eyes when she looks back at me. Elena's voice is quiet but forceful, accusatory. "In my dorm room… you kissed her goodbye. She buttoned your pants, Stefan!" That looks really bad out of context, I realize that, but the fact that moments earlier from this memory she's retrieved Elena and I were making out on her bedroom floor makes me hopeful and I smile. My smile really pisses Elena off. "Why are you grinning like that?"

This time when she stands her anger has sobered her just enough that she doesn't wobble and takes off towards the band, grabbing another glass of champagne on the way. I follow closely, watch her walk, enjoy the view – she's mad, okay, but she's also breaking through the walls of her memory.

I don't know where she's planning on going but as we cross the dance floor I tire of following her and stop in my tracks, grab Elena's hand and tug her back to me – she has to turn to face me to keep from falling –her free hand on my chest and her body impacts roughly against mine. The gravity that I feel when I'm with her has been on the low end for most of the night – less our descriptive conversation following the Fifty Shades discussion – but at this moment, her eyes looking up at me and our bodies pressed against one another the frequency jumps to a peak. I know Elena feels it – there is no way she can't sense the magnetism we share. Still holding her hand, I slip the other against her neck, stroke the line of her jaw with my thumb just as the band breaks into the last chorus of Take Me Away. I force away a smile when she nearly leans in to kiss me. Instead I put my lips against her ear. "I never cheated on you, Elena."

"Well someone cheated!" She says loudly, moving away from me just enough that we can see each other's faces. "I don't even know what that means!" She gives a frustrated, sarcastic laugh.

"You cheated on Damon. You and me." She furrows her brow. "You were dating Damon but you and I were seeing each other. I was in your dorm room when Damon came to get you – I'd stayed the night and we were nearly caught… Caroline saved my ass by pretending like I was there with her."

The music stops as the upbeat song ends and we don't have to speak so loudly now.

Elena looks confused for another moment or two. When she speaks it's a rattling pace and sounds almost desperate. "I don't remember that… I.. it seems right though. I feel so lost, Stefan. I don't understand what's going on. I don't understand how I feel now, how I feel about you. I don't understand who I am anymore, Stefan."

That painful look is back on her face, like when I pushed her about my Lexus earlier and I just want it to go away. Releasing her hand, I cup her face. "It's okay. I don't expect you to remember. We'll figure it out."

I feel her hands move under my suit jacket, resting at my sides just above the waist of my pants. Her thumbs grazing the front of my torso just as the lead singer begins a new song accompanied only by an acoustic guitar; The entire crowd is silent, his voice and the lyrics are haunting. (/HbDW0HxiUq4)

How long have I been in this storm?
So overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form
Water's getting harder to tread
With these waves crashing over my head

The words seem to hurt her; Elena's eyes glitter with unshed tears pooling at the rims of her lashes, "Why can't I remember you, Stefan? What happened to me?"

If I could just see you
Everything would be all right
If I'd see you
This darkness would turn to light

Looking at her, I swear she already knows what I'm going to say. How much longer can I keep the truth from her? I can answer every question she asks but it won't change the fact that she's not going to remember the parts where she loved me, where I loved her. Elena may never know how much she means to me… but I'll never give up. I'll always protect Elena, I'll always be here for her – no matter the cost.

And I will walk on water
And you will catch me if I fall
And I will get lost into your eyes
and everything will be alright
and everything will be alright

She can see it on my face that I'm holding back, her eyes searching mine. "Elena, I…" She hugs me tightly, her arms wrapping around my torso like she's scared she may fall. I hold onto her, the love of my life – my wife, the mother of my child who doesn't have any idea the lengths I would go to love her... I love her. I've loved her my entire life. I'll love her til the sun burns out.

I know you didn't bring me out here to drown
So why am I ten feet under and upside down
Barely surviving has become my purpose
Because I'm so used to living underneath the surface

If I could just see you
Everything would be all right
If I'd see you
This darkness would turn to light

Moving back, taking her face in my hands, I kiss her forehead then take a deep breath; steadying myself, "Elena, you were so upset after –"

There's a quick flash of light, Elena and I turn our faces towards it in unison. Blake Townley – camera in hand – is grinning at me like he's just caught me red-handed. I feel Elena's head turn away in my hands – she's embarrassed by her tearful eyes. "How's it going, Salvatore?"

Blake is the Arts & Entertainment reporter for the Wilmington Star News – picture a young Ryan Seacrest; a few inches taller and a real jackass, egotistical and cocky. Extending his hand to me, I do my best to not look at him like I want to snap his neck. Blake and I met back in the fall when the paper did a piece on Paestum Publishing. Since then, it seems like everywhere I go, he's there – the holiday fundraisers, a New Year's party that Caroline insisted we go to at the capitol building, and even the gym I sometimes workout at. It got to the point that I stalked him for a few days just to make sure he wasn't a vampire out for some kind of revenge or working for Elijah.

Every time we're around each other he gets more and more brave, getting closer to crossing the line with me. From his vulgar stories about the women he's been with to the way he continually tries to show me he's the alpha male, he's one of the very few humans that I wouldn't mind if I hurt.

I don't like the guy – he underhanded and sneaky - and he's just started this interaction off on the wrong foot by interrupting what would have been a very important moment.

My hands leave Elena's face – one meets Blake's and I shake his hand while the other trails down Elena's arm and rests on the small of her back. He and I share an intense glare for a long moment – "Blake" I nod as a greeting.

He's been interested in Caroline since he met her last fall. She and I were having dinner with Pepper and Robert, and Blake came over and took a seat at our table uninvited. Blake is a brave, stupid guy… making a couple passes at Caroline right in front of me. Thing is, Caroline isn't mine and I don't care if someone else flirts with her. I think the fact that Caroline shot him down and I completely ignored his disrespectful behavior just made him want to show me up even more. I'm sure he's delighted at catching me in such an intimate position with another girl. "This is Elena Gilbert."

Blake moves to shake Elena's hand but his eyes never really leave mine. This guy has no idea who he's attempting to stare down. I could rip his arm from his body and beat him to death with the bloody nub if I felt so inclined.

"Where's Caroline? She usually loves these kinds of things!" I don't miss the slight narrowing of his eyes – he thinks he's being sly, mentioning Caroline as if Elena doesn't know about her. "Emily, was it, have you met Caroline? Stefan's girlfriend."

"Yes, she and I went to school together." Elena barely finishes her sentence before he starts talking again, his eyes finally find her – when he looks her up and down too slowly my fingers dig into the palms of my hands in tight fists.

"You are simply… wow, you're stunning!" Don't get me wrong – Elena is absolutely beautiful, but when Blake complements her he cuts his eyes at me. I'm sure he does think she's stunning, but he's only putting on this show to get at me – it's working. "Stefan, you wouldn't mind if I took your friend for a dance would you?"

I don't answer – yes I mind. I mind very much. This guy is a slimeball, but Elena is looking at him with a polite smile on her face and I have to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from breaking my rule about telling Elena what to do.

I'm actually a little surprised when Elena shakes her head and I feel her fingers lace with mine, "We're actually in the middle of-"

Again, he interrupts her. "Ah-ah, I won't take no for an answer!" Blake takes Elena by her shoulder like he's going to pull her away from me. I don't mean to use such force, but my open hand hits his chest so hard that the impact knocks a bit air from his lungs, disrupts the rhythm of his breathing and he stumbles back a step or two. It's not terrible; he coughs a couple of times, looks at me with wide, surprised eyes as he catches his breath.

In a friendly, quit-fucking-with-me kind of way I grasp his shoulder, just tightly enough that he won't forget that I am obviously stronger than he realized. I don't like that he called her Emily so I break up the syllables of her name when I say, "E-LEH-NAH and I were just leaving, Blake. I'll be sure to let Caroline know you say hello."

ELENA's POV

Stefan is leading me through the crowd and walking quickly enough that I'm having trouble keeping up; His legs are longer, he's more sober, and I'm wearing four and a half inch stiletto's. "Stefan… wait, slow down."

He keeps going for a few more feet until we make it to the sidewalk – I don't know if he's stopping now because I asked him to or if this dark, nearly deserted spot was where he was going all along, either way, I'm glad to stop the run-walk. He lets go of my hand and paces a bit. I'm not sure what's going on. Back there with that guy he was the picture of calm, seething just below the surface maybe, but he seems almost raging now. I watch him, his hands on his hips, those perfect teeth biting into his perfect lip.

I don't know which Stefan I like more – Playful or Authoritarian. Don't get me wrong, I love that Stefan is gentle and kind, the way he treats me like I'm special and important… but sometimes I don't want to be treated like glass. I know he's a vampire. I'm fully aware that he's strong, but seeing him confidently putting that guy in his place was a turn on.

My imagination is running wild with thoughts of his body and mine. I'm drunk yes, but I can't blame my naughty thoughts on the alcohol as I've been falling into them all day. My gaze is locked on his bottom lip, on his perfect white teeth pressing into the soft, nude pink flesh that I just know must feel like satin. When I shiver with the thought, Stefan notices and stops the pacing, furrows his brow with concern.

"Elena, sorry… I didn't think." He moves to take off his jacket – he thinks my tremor is from the cool breeze - my eyes watch his chest muscles rolling beneath the stretched-tight fabric of his white shirt. I see his beautiful, strong shoulders square up when he steps close and slips his suit coat over me. "Do you want to go somewhere and talk? Maybe we should just get this over with."

I'll blame in on the fact that I haven't had any of that medicine in over twenty-four hours, but my mind is bouncing all over the place. Yes, I want to know what I've been lied to about for almost five years – of course I do, but right now, all I can think of is Stefan. Not the Stefan Bonnie made him out to be, but the Stefan that smells like body wash and hair product and warmth, a scent that makes me want to taste him. This man standing in front of me with his Roman face and warm eyes that I can almost feel... the Stefan that my body seems to be polarized to – "Let's go back to my place." When our eyes meet, I'm amazed at how that push/pull feeling is back again. Tugging at me for what seems like an eternity of tension, drawing me to him though I can't seem to move

Finally, he puts his hand on the small of my back - just domineering enough that I like it - and we start down the street back towards the wine bar where his Mustang is parked. Stefan's not talking, still angry with that guy I assume but don't want to ask because my mind is hoping to use up that anger of his for a much more selfish cause. Even still, he's the epitome of cool – a slight swagger to his walk that comes with knowing that he's powerful… my lungs feel tight with anticipation when I think of how powerful he must be.

The neon yellow sign for La Catalan catches my eye and I start to really rack my brain. I don't want the night to end just yet... not unless he's planning on coming home with me and I if I know Stefan, he's going to do the gentlemanly thing and walk me to my door, then call it a night. I almost feel stupid when I smile and say "Truth or dare?" Through the multiple glasses of wine and my ever-present haze, it's the best I can come up with.

He gives me this look, maybe I'm imagining it but for the slightest of moments he's just a guy realizing that this girl he's with is doing her best to flirt – he's youthful and unsure - not an experienced 170 year old vampire.

"What happened to Twenty Questions?" Stefan's laugh is even sexy - a deep, manly chuckle. I just shrug and smile back at him. In the dim streetlights Stefan's face is shadowed in a way that makes him like he could be vicious; devious in a good kind of way that would make a girl's knees shake. "Truth, I guess."

He must have thought I wanted him to say dare, because he sounds reserved when he answers me. I'm not disappointed. I knew he would go with Truth first and was prepared. The real Elena Gilbert is just barely out of my grasp right now, I can feel her influence and it's pushing me to make the most of this night with Stefan. "What's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?"

His green eyes shine wide and a wicked smile crosses his face - looking down he pretends to be shy, somehow I know better. "Maybe I should have went with dare." He jokes.

"Too late, now Mr. Salvatore." I tease him, nonchalantly, slipping my finger through the belt loop on the back of his pants - he doesn't miss a beat putting his arm around my shoulders.

After a few steps of silence, I'm about to goad him to answer when he gives a small laugh, rubs his face with his free hand and says. "It's gotta be in the airplane."

I'm kind of disappointed - "The mile high club?" Surely, Stefan Freaking-gorgeous Salvatore has something better than that.

He must be able to hear it in my voice, but my lackluster response doesn't bother him. "Not me. You."

I don't understand - "How can the kinkiest thing you've ever done be me having sex in an airplane without you?"

"Trust me, I was there." Stefan's not looking at me, his eyes are straight ahead, but I can see the dirty thoughts on his face.

"Details, please... memory loss, remember?" I hear the beep-beep of his car unlocking and look over at it feeling a bit defeated. When he opens my door, his eyes run down my body in a way that makes me rethink my current state of defeat. I cross my arms and sit against the front fender of his car. "Spill it, Salvatore." I'm not going anywhere.

Stefan seems to assess our surroundings quickly – we're basically alone less a few tipsy patrons crowding around the entrance of a club about fifty yards away, the street is dark, and besides the muffled licks of a blues guitar and the drunk laughter from the patrons, it's just us. The instant his eyes move back to me, I see exactly what I want – sexy, dark, devouring Stefan. His Roman face is confident in this sly-kind of way that almost makes me scared of what he knows he could do to me. When he closes the door to his car – I swallow hard, buzzing with some kind of electricity that runs from the back of my neck all the way to my toes.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?" Stefan's getting in the game, hands in his pocket as he swaggers over to me. Something about him… he exudes this sexy confidence with every move of his body. I can feel that push/pull frequency revving up and my heart starts to race when he steps in front of me – his right foot between mine, "You are," he leans over, puts one hand on each side of my hips so that we're eye to eye, "so sexy."

Just like that, I've lost my edge and he's in control.

Right now, Stefan could probably get me to do just about anything. I try to keep my strong-girl guise going, hope he doesn't notice that my eyes keep looking at that mouth of his, "Don't try to change the subject..."

When his head cocks to the side and his eyes look down to my bare legs I swear I feel like I might combust. "I've always loved your face..." Those green eyes look up at me again, I think he's challenging me, seeing if I'm able to press on with my request for details, until I feel his fingertips just above my knee. I stop breathing, but don't look away from his eyes. They burn, hot and dark, somehow fueling me to let him keep moving up my skin - the line of his touch curving inward the further he moves. "you're body is amazing, Elena... but your face." I feel his leg, the one standing between my feet, move against me and slowly – achingly slow – he pushes it against my knee, spreading my legs. The rough sensation of his hand slipping between the uppermost part of my thighs makes my eyes close. "I can see everything you're feeling." He kisses the corner of my mouth and I can't move – his hand up the skirt of my dress, covered by the fabric. Frozen, every muscle in my body is aching and stiff – I get it… I don't remember what happened in the airplane, but I get it and I want it.

"I like to watch you." His fingers graze the fabric of my panties with just enough pressure that I inhale sharply and he smiles at me – proud of himself, liking my reaction to his terribly naughty touch – "see you… enjoying me." I bite my lip hard when his fingers start to move - its all pressure and rhythm, slip and friction. "You can tell me to stop." It's a challenge and a way out. I don't know how he's doing this to me – his quiet, raw voice is even caressing through me, helping to set fire to my nerves. I'm not moving but I can barely breathe!

I can't tell him to stop, I won't.

The way he's watching my face, my eyes, my mouth, it's so dirty and erotic. It's almost as corporeal as the quickening movement of his fingers against me. When I can't take it anymore of this intense gaze, I turn my face and lean into his chest – it's too much, I have to hide for moment. I can feel my brow wrinkling and lips shaking… Stefan's powerful eyes, that strange magnetic pull, what his fingers are doing to me; I need a break, just a moment to gain control before I completely lose myself. The instant I close my eyes I'm inundated with visions of our faces, like a reflection of us – standing behind me, he's got that same predator glare as he watches me. I can't get away. Everything multiplies and I have to hold onto Stefan's hand next to my hip and use my other arm to steady myself against the hood of the car. I feel like I am too close to the edge of a cliff – about to fall, my skin is too hot – then it's gone.

Stefan stands straight and crosses his arms while I look at him like he's just sucked all the oxygen from my lungs. I didn't say stop. I did not want him to stop… I shake my head, open my mouth but I still can't speak, my lungs too tight. His smile and smooth voice tells me he knows exactly what he's done to me and how frustrated I am with his stopping. "If I can't see your face then why would I continue?"

I feel cheated somehow! I haven't felt anything so intense, so acute in a very long time and I want it back, I want it all over again. I'm buzzing with want for him and with the alcohol flowing through me, but I swear I'm possessed by the electric charge that moves between us when my hand reaches out and my fingers curl beneath the waist of his pants – pulling myself to my feet. "Take me home and I'll let you see anything you want."

Looking me over, really searching my face for any signs of uncertainty, Stefan pops his neck like he does – a real sexy slight turn of his head and stiffening of his jaw. "I have a better idea."

It takes me a moment to recognize the building as I've only seen it once and it was broad daylight. Paestum Publishing looks much different with the lights off, surrounded by nightfall and empty streets. I guess I hadn't realized how close we were even though the neighborhood had the same type of colonial, old-style feel to it –brick and clapboard with colors that accent the Americana seaside. Releasing my hand from the relatively short, quick walk from outside of La Catalan's, I hear Stefan's keys jingle as he leans into the door - this is his better idea! I love it! How I feel in this moment, my arms around Stefan's waist and face against his back, kissing the warm skin under his shirt, it's amazing. Deep down, I know this is wrong to do to him – selfishly leading him on as I know he's still got feelings for me from when we dated, but I want him and I need this. Going from years of numbness, void and hollow existence to this fervent, high-wire reality - I come alive when I'm around Stefan and I want all of it I can get!

Once inside, he turns in my embrace, facing me and closing the door – pressing us against the wooden blinds and I feel myself swell with some un-titled emotion when I see his beautiful Roman face smiling at me. I like making Stefan happy, I love seeing those eyes of his shine with adoration for me. I'm eager to keep this going, to continue to feel all of these amazing, life-altering emotions and I kiss him hard, passionately, my hands fisting in his shirt.

Stefan is an amazing kisser – it's like he knows each move my lips make just before I do, reacting with the perfect counter-move. I never want this to end. I never want to not feel this kiss… it's a rush of adrenaline or a slow burn maybe. Whatever it is it's taking me over and I'm completely breathless when he has to break our kiss; the beeping of the alarm is getting faster and Stefan extends his arm across the wall – not taking his body from mine – and types in the security code.

He gives me this half smile, his eyes looking over my face and I feel his hands on my shoulders sliding up beneath my face. When he kisses me… it's like he's tasting me for the first time, soft and sensual and there's a devotion in his kiss that makes my legs weak. It makes my vision blurry even, I'm light headed and breathless when he pulls away from me – those eyes of his dark and serious. He opens his mouth to say something – I know what he's going to say and I can't hear those three words right now… right now I just want it to be Stefan and Elena who used haven't seen each other since high school. Stefan and Elena who are incredibly attracted to one another – no love, no strange supernatural story of vampires and originals and memory-loss.

I stop his words by wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him again, hard and passionate. I don't have the ability to kiss him the way he kissed me, so this will have to do. My distraction works when I feel his hands move around my hips, down my rear end and grab the back of my thighs – lifting me, my legs wrap around his waist. It's amazing to me that he can be so attentive with his mouth on my neck and tongue on my skin, carrying me like I'm a feather. He's so strong, so talented at what he's doing to me.

We don't go far – I feel the reception desk against my legs just before he sits me down. I want him, right now – I don't want him to talk, so I begin working on his belt, then unfastening his pants. His hands leave my body just long enough for him to pull off his tie and shirt in a quick fluid movement - I'm a little caught off guard by just how beautiful he is; cut and muscular, a Greek God in the dim light shining in from the street lamps. Thankfully, Stefan's in control because I'm frozen with deep desire and appreciation of his abs and the V shape of his hips. I'm brought back to the moment when his rough hands slip beneath the fabric of my dress, pull me to the edge of the desk and slip my panties off with a quick lifting of my body.

His mouth is devouring me – my lips, my neck and chest, all the while his rough fingers are finishing what he started back at the car. I don't even recognize my own voice; the sounds of my whimpering and moaning, how I say his name in a prayerful way. I've never felt so animalistic, so salacious in my life, bending and arching with every talented, forceful flick of his wrist. When my breathing quickens to a sprint, I feel like I'm may hyperventilate. Stefan stops kissing me, his burning hot eyes watching me – I should be embarrassed with these uncontrollable moans and cries coming out of my mouth and my lips swollen from his kisses, but I'm not. It just pushes me over the edge, his hungry gaze taking me in as I finish. I swear I don't mean to but I actually say "Yes Stefan, Yes!" in some unfamiliar, throaty, croaking raw voice just as I peak in waves and fall hard.

Curling against him now, his arms move around me and pull me close as I catch my breath, inhaling him. This Stefan scent – body wash, warmth, and a unique clean Stefan smell, it's the closest thing to smelling sunshine as I've ever been. My forehead is resting against his chest and as my breathing begins to return to normal, my hands find their way to his stomach, tracing each perfectly formed muscle of his torso. I've barely found solid ground and I'm already wanting him again. Wanting him on top of me, deep inside of me. Stefan makes me feel everything and I don't want to lose that, I don't want to lose him. I kiss his chest once, nuzzle against his neck and lick his skin – he tastes clean and warm. My lips move up his neck, kiss his jaw and I hear him exhale a deep groan when I whisper, "I want you, Stefan."

Our mouths meet again and he pushes me back on the desk. His knee finds the desk top, lifting his body and he climbs over me as I break our kiss and lay back. I can't wait to have this man. I can't wait to let him have me, all of me. Stefan Salvatore is the epitome of sex, hovering over me, his hips between my legs pressing against me. There are small stacks of paper beneath me, a keyboard just next to my head, and a picture of Jennifer and what I presume is her best friend looking at us from a silver frame, but it doesn't matter- there is nothing else but Stefan and I. I run my hands through his hair as he moves down to kiss me; from my lips to my neck, back to my mouth to mute my moans when he pushes inside of me and I want to scream. It's a blissful pain, being filled by Stefan, that slowly turns into luscious pushing and pulling of heat and breathing.

I can't tell you how good he is at this, how every single movement is amazing, complete and total perfection. Each time he flexes his hips it just gets better and better. Every caress from his hand, how his fingers roughly press into my flesh, grabbing and groping in just the right places – Stefan Salvatore is a sex God. My body reacts to him in a way that is completely unintentional and unparalleled. I feel my muscles tightening, winding up again. My skin is too hot and just when I feel a thin sheen of sweat on my skin, Stefan licks my neck, sucks at my sweating skin. It's erotic and lascivious – so lewd and lustful that it nearly pushes me over for a second time.

I can feel it coming, my breathing getting all out of rhythm again.

"I love you" He loves me, I like the sound of that – I want to be loved by a man like him – I want to be loved by Stefan.

When he kisses below my ear and says it again, "I love you", Stefan's whispery groan makes me dizzy – really and truly dizzy. I'm suddenly nauseated and my head is taken over by a vice grip squeezing every nerve around my brain. I know it's the wrong time to pray, but I really don't want to have to stop this. I've been numb for so long and right now I can feel my entire heart, my whole soul… but the migraine is taking over and knocking me out of synch with Stefan. I try to play it off, but suddenly everything is just wrong. My conscience is telling me I shouldn't be here. I should be with Matt. I should be in Virginia.

I should not - can not. love. Stefan.

I really really try but it's futile - when Stefan stops, looks me in the eyes as he brushes my hair back with his hands, he knows something is wrong. His green, beautiful eyes falling from a fiery burn to worry. "Elena?"

Turning my face from him, I just want to cry. He must think he's done something wrong because he swiftly removes himself from me, from the top of the desk. Still flat on my back, the cloudiness of my migraine moving in strong, I cover my face with both hands and sob into my palms as quietly as I can.

I don't know how much time I spend like that – crying and wishing to God I wasn't so broken. What happened…? I'm going crazy. I'm literally losing my mind… nearly completely numb, out of tears, exhausted when my sobbing finally stops.

Sitting up, I find Stefan sitting against the wall, still shirtless, legs bent and elbows resting on top of his knees, his head hanging between his biceps. It scares me when I realize I've broken him too. Immortal, unbreakable, strong Stefan… when he hears me sit up, the rustling of my dress and the papers on the desk, he looks up at me; he's destroyed.

"Will you take me home?" I don't know why I ask. I know he will. He's not the kind of guy to abandon a girl.

Stefan nods, pushes himself up the wall with his legs. Everything is so awkward now – Stefan buttoning his shirt, me picking my red underwear up off of the floor. Luckily I barely feel it, I barely feel anything.

I just want to get away from him.

The walk back to his car is quick. Though he offered me is jacket, I can't stand the thought of having it around me and just shook my head no, then took off. Stefan stayed close behind me the whole way, unlocked the door and I got in without him doing the whole car door opening and closing 'I'm a gentleman' thing he does. If I knew where in the hell I was I'd just walk home without him. Every second I have to spend with him just makes me feel worse… I can see how hurt he is and I hate myself for it.

There's no music and not a word between us on the drive to my apartment. When he pulls up at the curb I see his lips start to move out of the corner of my eye, hear him inhale to say something, so I open the door before the car has come to a complete stop and hop out. I have to get away from him. I need to get away from Stefan - but I have no idea why…

I hear him call my name just as the car door shuts and keep walking, hoping he's not following me. When I make it to the elevator I'm relieved to turn around and see that his car is pulling away. The moment the red taillights of his mustang disappear I bury my face in my hands and cry. Beginning to feel sick from the wine and sick from my shattered brain, I forget to push a floor button and stand there in the elevator as I fall apart. I'm so alone. I'm numb and alone and the only person that's ever parted the haze in my mind has just drove off.

I consider calling him – text him that I'm sorry and I want him to come over. I want to talk to him like we did back in high school… before he had these expectations of me and I had clear eyes and a whole brain. Just as I'm about to take my phone from my red satin clutch, the doors of the elevator open and I look up, surprised, at the guy that called me Emily.