Elena relished in the feeling of the cool breeze of the night gently hugging her skin as she lay in bed that evening. After Stefan had dropped her off outside of her room, Elena had quickly rinsed her face and changed into a thin, white night gown, leaving her hair in its braid so as not bother her while she slept. Now, lying in her bed, her legs curled close to her, she drifted off to sleep peacefully.
Elena awoke with a start. The curtain of the opened window in her room was billowing from a sudden gust of wind. She had no idea what time it was but she assumed it was late judging by the stream of silvery moonlight that casted shadows across her bed. Elena got up to shut the window; the breeze was chilling and uncomfortable. It seemed to whisper her name, almost moaning it. "Elllleeeennnaaaa," it called out to her. The noise made a shiver course up her spine and caused the nape of her neck to break out in a cold sweat. Once she had succeeded in shutting the window, Elena stumbled back to her bed sleepily only to find that someone was already in the space where she had just laid not two minutes before. Elena blinked and strained her eyes, "It's just a shadow Elena, what a foolish girl you're being, there is neither a threat there nor a reason to be fearful," Elena thought to herself, hoping desperately that what she told herself was true, that no one was there and in turn, there was nothing to be fearful about. But someone was there and she absolutely had a reason to be fearful. Elena stared into the darkness for another moment or so, standing perfectly still as if that would protect her, until she recognized him. The man sitting on her bed, the veil of night masking most of his face, was Damon.
Elena screamed a painfully low shriek; it instantly made her throat sore and dry. Then one of Damon's long, lean arms reached out and put a hand over her mouth. Elena went silent. "Elena," he said. Dear lord, the way he said her name. It almost soothed Elena's panic completely, washing it away as easily as if it was a lone shell on a vast beach. "Elena," Damon said again, his voice hushed. His large, warm palm still covered Elena's mouth, making it difficult to speak, but she spoke anyway. "What are you doing here?" she mumbled against his skin. Damon smiled, the moonlight causing his teeth to gleam unnaturally white. He removed his hand from Elena's mouth and drew her down to sit beside him on the bed. "I came to see you Elena," he answered her question while she gaped at him. "But- but Damon, it's highly improper for a man to visit a woman late at night, in her room when she is not married to said man. And I- I can't have people thinking that I my virtue is no longer intact…," Damon chuckled softly and for a moment Elena thought that he was laughing at her. "Elena, we are the only ones here besides my brother, my father, and our employees. No one will know that I was in your bedroom…and as for you virtue… I am a civilized man, I assure you," He said to her, looking her directly in the eyes as he did. Elena flushed, this…she had only just met Damon and here he was sitting on her bed, telling her that no one in the household would know or care if he spent the night with her…this was too much for her to handle. Elena began to feel sick, and a sudden wave of dizziness swept about her. "I-I…Damon," Elena began out of breath. Damon moved closer to her in concern, "Elena, are you well?" he asked gently. Elena's only response was the sickening sound of her breathing, which had gone uneven, short, and ragged. Damon lightly touched her hand; he found it to be cool from sweat. "Elena?" Damon asked hastily. Then at that very moment, Elena gasped and toppled over onto Damon, her body limp and perfectly still in his lap. She had fainted.
