I have to get away from Elena. As soon as possible.

It's better this way for me and it's sure better for her. It won't do either of us good if I stay while I'm still pissed. So I don't even know where I'm driving, but every second takes me farther from her, from Ric's apartment, from the goddamn town.

The fucking nerve.

I hate that she had the guts to chase me, to find me, to show up and try to fuck with my head all over again. I hate that she was so fucking sure that all she needed was to use her get-through-to-Damon voice and look at me with those eyes and I would listen to her like the good dog that I am. That I would rush into her arms and hold her and say that everything was fine, that I forgave her and we were okay.

I hate it even more that part of me (a pretty damn big part) considered giving in. Begged me to give in. Because no matter what, being with her would somehow always be better than not being with her.

Except we're anything but okay, and I'm not gonna lie to her.

The damn problem is that she miserably fails at letting go of people. And it's not like I ever gave her any ultimatums, right? I wouldn't even dream of saying something like "Elena, you can't talk to Stefan so much any more," because I'm not a possessive jealous fuck (or at least I try really hard not to be). I know she cares about him, and I've always thought I could trust her.

Well, guess I shouldn't have been so sure.

I wish I could hate her. I wish I could go to the nearest bar, find a random willing girl to fuck and drink from and forget about Elena Gilbert for at least one goddamn night.

Truth is, I can't. No matter how mad I am, I still remember her face when she said she wasn't sorry she was in love with me. When she scrunched up her nose and said that Tessa was crazy if she thought the universe would tear us apart.

Maybe she shouldn't have been so sure, either.

Or maybe you shouldn't have left town like a fucking coward even though you promised you wouldn't take any shit from the universe, says a traitorous voice in my head. Oh no. I know this part of me too well. The part that's ready to take all the blame. If I let it win, the whole furious attitude will tumble like a house of cards.

Maybe she shouldn't have lied to me, I argue, and my anger flares up all over again. Fuck it, the whole fight isn't my fault in the first place. For once, maybe I haven't done anything wrong.

So why the hell am I leaving?

I hit the brakes and turn the car around – back to MysticFalls. Back to my house. If Elena wants, she can stay in Stefan's room for the night. Fuck if I care.

I just want to take a damn shower.

I wake up restless and tired, and can't seem to open my eyes. My face is buried in the pillow, hands tucked beneath it. I feel like I haven't slept at all.

In a familiar, instinctive move my hand slides to the right, and I sit up at the foot of the bed, gasping.

Damon's home.

I hoped, I prayed, though I never actually believed it. But there he is, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

I'm hit by a wave of love and happiness and relief, and I don't even stop to think before I attack him, winding my arms around his neck and pressing my cheek to his. My knees are on both sides of his thighs as I try to cover as much of him as possible with my body, hold on as tightly as I can, so he knows I'm not letting go of him. No way.

It takes me a few moments to realize that his arms are still resting limply by his sides, and he's rigid and unresponsive under me. A chill runs along my spine, but I try to ignore it. "Damon?" I say as I sit up, propping my hands on his chest.

He's still scrutinizing the ceiling.

"Damon!" I beg, caressing his cheek. "Please, look at me."

He does, and I smile at him happily.

"I'm so glad you're here," I say, lying down next to him and putting my head on his shoulder. "I was so worried you wouldn't come back."

"Why not, Elena?" he asks, and for a crazy moment I'm wondering if it's even possible for a vampire to drink to the point of brain damage. "It's my room. And my bed."

He stands up and goes to the bathroom while I take a deep breath so I don't start to cry again.

It's the first time since the night I moved in he calls our room his.

I'm thankful to CreepingMuse for beta'ing it and writing those cute little comments, I'm thankful to Lala for giving me the idea and inspiring this chapter, too, to Vicki for liking it so much and to all of you guys for staying with me. Happy Thanksgiving!