A/N: Hey, what's up you guys?! I'm back :) Ok, ok I didn't completely deliver in a week, but I was only a day or two off this time so I'm getting better! My amazing Beta iwantyoudamon hasn't had time to edit anything in this, but I decided I was happy with it, posted it now! I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer!

Next week may be a little late because I'm pretty sure I'm out all week, but we'll see :) Enjoy!

P.S. This is continuing where we left off exactly last chap!

"Does anyone want to go on a run to the high school with me?" Elena asked, jogging down the stairs in some running tights and a fitted active tee. She called the mechanic, and after an awkward catch up session with Tyler's uncle, Mason, he had agreed to tow her car from the school to his small shop on the outskirts of town. She was getting a ride there anyway and she didn't have a car, so she decided she'd go for a run like she would before work in New York. She wasn't a teenager anymore, meaning she couldn't maintain her perfect hourglass figure without daily exercise, and even if she was, she wasn't on a holiday. Frankly, this place was more like a hell on earth. So she had to keep up her routine like it was any normal day, otherwise she'd crumble.

"No." They all answered. She gathered all her hair in a palm and tied it up in a high pony as she peered into the living room.

"Okay, see you in an hour or two." She grinned as she noticed they were playing Monopoly. God, she wished she could just stay protected in this house with her family, relishing in their shock ridden faces as she cleared all their properties and beat them all. But that meant prolonging her stay, because to get out of here, she needed to fix her car.

Right. Stay on task, Elena.

"Bye!" They called as she put her earphones in and closed the door. It was pretty nice outside, so she was happy to run. As she jogged at a steady pace down the streets of her old town, she found herself missing it. Missing this place she'll forever call home. Small towns were always her thing – well, she'd never lived in a city until now. The people, the atmosphere and the family ticked all five stars in her mind, making her take Mystic Falls preference over the City That Never Sleeps. Everything was just better. But sometimes, everything's not enough. Sometimes, you have to compromise ideality for other, more important things. Like the beneficial factors New York possessed in keeping her and her family's mental health up to scratch.

Of course, it was disheartening knowing she'd given up what could've been her perfect life for an incident that took place within five minutes of her life, but it was what had to be done.

"Elena?" A perky British voice echoed from behind her. Fuck. She knew that voice anywhere. Now that, was someone she never thought she'd see again.

"Rebekah." She grinned falsely, yanking her earphones out and turning around slowly.

"How are you?" She asked, leaning forward for what looked like a hug. Elena stepped back immediately, dodging it. If Elena had come in physical contact with Rebekah, she'd probably either a) pull her pretty blond hair until it fell out, b) hug her so damn tight that she suffocated, or c) just straight up punched her right in the snout. Each option consisted then, of Elena scrubbing her body to the bone ASAP to make sure either a) she hadn't contracted herpes, b) her skin wasn't infected with the different colone of at least two hundred odd men, c) develop the urge to sleep with everyone within a five meter radius of her - yes, everyone, or d) all of thee above. In this rare encounter with the beast of 'promiscuity', distance was vital for survival.

"Great." Elena answered.

"Look," Rebekah started, and Elena already wanted to punch her perfect teeth out. Damn they were so freaking straight! How is that even possible? "Elena I'm really so–"

"Don't." Elena interrupted, not realising she had her hand up in defence if the exotic creature were to step any closer. She really didn't want a fake apology – or one at all. In fact, she didn't want anything to do with Rebekah Mikaelson and all her men – and women. All she wanted was to enjoy her run. "I don't want your apology."

"I just thought–" Rebekah tried to reason. It seemed as though she had changed. If not drastically, slightly, but it didn't matter. Elena couldn't forgive, nor forget her actions. No amount of apology will change that. So what was the point of listening? Making herself clear was the only way to ensure she never 'ran into' the blonde again.

"Whatever you thought you could fix, you were wrong." She cut in again, placing her earphones back in and turning back around before she could interject. "Nice seeing you."

As Elena approached the school parking lot, she was still cooling down from her 'run in' with Rebekah. She was calmer than she thought she'd be, actually. She always imagined if she ever saw the blonde again she'd abuse her with her personal choice of cuss words. She did always hate her, but it was the personal things she did that affected her most.

She was that bitch in high school that would do anything to get rid of competition, and as much as Elena didn't think she was worthy competition, she was the biggest competitor there was. for Everything. Rebekah was like the Regina George of Mystic Falls High School. Elena was her Cady Heron – except she was never part of her group and she didn't have a Damian Leigh and Janis Ian. Okay, she wasn't really like her 'Cady' other than being her main competitor. Just a hypothetical – Elena's favourite when she'd vent to strangers in the coffee shop below the apartment.

"Sorry I'm late." She apologised, walking slowly up to the old car to see Mason leaning against it. "Had a run in with an old...friend."

"No problem." He nodded. He looked a bit older, but not much. Just a few greys shining through. "So I've already hooked it up, as you can see. All we need to do is tow it and then we'll check what's up."

"Sounds good." She smiled, following him to the front of the tow truck. She jumped in and tried not to let her gag reflexes take control of her as the horrid smell made it's way up her nostril chambers. It was a mixture of sweat, grease and stale food and it was burning her fragile senses. This would be a long drive.

Once they made it to the mechanic, she had to take at least five minutes to air that disgusting stench out of her clothes.

"Elena?" Tyler called as he peered out of the garage.

"Tyler." She smiled widely, pushing her weight off her knees as he approached. She lifted her arms around his neck and pulled him into her embrace, hoping not to infect his nostrils with the odour too. She was pretty close with Tyler before she left – he was Damon's other best friend. He'd be over Damon's some of the time she was and she considered him a good friend. But she couldn't even think of contacting him after she left because chances were, Damon was around and she didn't want to risk it. Now, it didn't matter. Now, she was just happy to see her old friend that truthfully, she had missed.

"How have you been, Little 'Lena?" He asked as she pulled away.

/ / / / / / / / / / / /

"Damon!" Elena called from his bed. He had been downstairs for at least twenty minutes and she was getting extremely bored. She had already skimmed through his drawers, studied his furniture, peed, and was now fiddling with the soft sheets on his huge bed. "Damon!"

"What?!" He answered. She felt his footsteps shake the house as he walked up the stairs. The steps were so heavy, she knew he wasn't alone. She quickly threw on a jacket to hide her semi-exposed chest. She didn't really care with Damon, but any cleavage showing, and whoever he was bringing might try something. Matt had, so why wouldn't any other guy?

"You took forever. What were you doing down there?" She asked as he entered the room with his friend Tyler by his side.

"Sorry, it was his fault." He apologised, plonking himself on the bed. "Tyler's only staying for dinner."

"Oh okay." She shrugged, rolling off her stomach so he had somewhere to sit. "Hey Tyler."

"Hey Little 'Lena."

"Little 'Lena?" Damon asked. Elena giggled slightly as she noticed his face change. She knew that stare. He could easily burn two clean holes through Tyler's skull right now with that stare. "Don't call her that."

"Damon, it's fine." She assured him, holding a hand up. "It's just a nickname."

"I'm the one who gives you nicknames." He raised his brows more playfully now. She could tell he was still infuriated.

"Damon." She pressed.

"It's fine. Sorry, Elena." Tyler smiled, articulating the E.

/ / / / / / / / / / / /

"I'm alright." She nodded, her smile washing off her lips. That question always made her uncomfortable. Because, no, she wasn't good or alright or even decent. She was shit. Sure, there were things and people in her life that were good or great or even amazing, but her life and situation itself was absolute bull-fucking-shit and she hated pretending like it wasn't to prevent people from probing her with endless questions.

"Just alright?" He sighed questioningly.

"Yeah, well what about you?" She grew the smile back as she inflicted his question. Except this time it was forced. Very, very forced.

"I'm good." He nodded, noticing the topic wasn't a loved one. "We need to catch up before you go."

"How do you know I'm leaving?" She questioned. If he had spoken to Damon, he'd know, but hopefully he hadn't and wasn't going to. If Damon knew she hadn't left yet, he'd probably try to talk to her again or even purposely place himself in situations she'd be in, and she did not want that.

"...Mason told me." He trailed off, crossing his arms into his chest nervously.

"Oh okay." She sighed. Well thank god. "Yeah I'll try to organise something. Your number still the same?"

"Yep."

"Okay, well I changed mine, so expect a text from an unknown number in the next day or two." She shrugged.

"You're car is set up inside," He announced, motioning to the garage with his head. "After you."

"Thank you." She grinned. Now this was a walk down memory lane. She hadn't been back here since the beginning of senior year.

/ / / / / / / / / / / /

Elena sat patiently in one of the hard plastic chairs on the edge of the street, outside the mechanic garage. She waited there every time Damon would come after school. She never really knew why he was here all the time. Yeah, Tyler was his best friend - other than her of course - but it was at least twice a week. Not that she could complain, they were literally over each other's houses every day. They probably hadn't missed one day in a whole year. So, she couldn't really be jealous. Besides, he did drag her along to the garage every time anyway, so he was never ditching her.

She glanced down at her watch and frowned as she noticed he was taking longer than usual. Every other day he'd take ten minutes max, but he had already been gone eighteen. Maybe she was just being a controlling girlfriend, but it was getting dark outside anyway.

Elena stood up, heading over to the garage door. She ducked under the half shut door and with no one in sight, she decided she needed to further investigate. Usually, the pair's hearty laughs would radiate throughout the area, even reaching her favourite white plastic chair from time to time. Sighting Damon's car was out front, Detective Gilbert came to the conclusion that he couldn't have ventured far.

She paced around the room, peering into every door and window she could. She approached the last room, leaning on the balls of her feet to search the room without entering. She didn't want to overstep any boundaries.

She frowned in worry as her eyes darted from side to side. She was more worried that he had left and went to the Mikaelson's, rather than anything else. Still, Damon wasn't the type to leave and go there. Especially now that he was done with Rebekah. Either way, the fear always lay in the deep inside her when he wasn't in sight. Crazy girlfriend? Definitely.

"Boo!" Damon said, placing his hands on her waist.

"AHHH!" She squealed, elbowing the figure behind her and attempting to run.

"Ouch." He groaned as he held his sore chest with one hand, trying to keep her from getting away with the other. "Elena, it's just me."

"What the fuck?!" She yelled, turning around to view him. "Seriously?"

"Not my fault you're a Scaredy Cat." Damon teased.

"You're a dick." She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms tightly to her chest as she leaned back against the cold brick wall, unhappy with herself for not cracking the case before he launched his attack.

"I know," He smirked, placing his hand next to her head on the wall. She inhaled as he did the same with the other and cornered her. "but you love it."

She uncrossed her arms and placed them on his neck as he dipped his head down to hers, pressing down on her lips. One of his hands slowly travelled to the hem of her shorts, fiddling with the fabric as her arms coiled further around his upper back. His fingertips circled her upper thighs and her breath hitched under his swirling tongue. They probably shouldn't be making out in the middle of the garage, but Elena couldn't pull her lips off of his. It was too difficult. He was touching her in all the right places to make her insides ooze with heat. Pushing closer against her, he pulled on her lip with his.

"Hm hm." Tyler interrupted. Damon treated it as white noise, continuing to caress Elena's lips with his, but Elena knew they had to stop.

With hesitation, she peeled her lips off his and untangled her arms from his neck. At the loss of contact, his lips tried to glue themselves to hers, but when she mumbled; "Damon, later", he forced himself to follow suit. Keeping a hand on her waist, they both turned to Tyler in apology.

"Seriously Damon, I was gone three minutes." Tyler chuckled, shaking his head.

"Sorry, she's irresistable." He shrugged.

"I look bad today." She felt a smile tease the edge of her mouth as she rolled her eyes.

"Shut up, you never look bad." He shook his head, pruning his face into a little ball. Elena couldn't look like shit if she had two black eyes, hadn't showered for days and had dirt all over her. Everyday was a good day – at least to Damon.

"I'm not even wearing any makeup." She scoffed.

"So?" He questioned, raising his brow up to his hairline. "That's better."

"Look at my dark circles." She pointed.

"What dark circles?" He asked, pulling her face close to his to observe.

"Are you blind?" She groaned, crossing her arms back into her chest.

"E, you don't have any." He said deliberately, gripping her shoulders.

"Yes. What's this?" She asked, sweeping her pointer fingers under her bottom lashes, determined to prove him wrong.

"Guys," Tyler sighed, rolling his eyes again. "I want to go home."

"Sorry." They both mumbled.

/ / / / / / / / / / / /

Mason slid out from under Lyla, wiped his face and stood up. He placed the heavy wrench he was holding onto the desk as he looked up and smiled; "I think I know what's wrong with her."

"That was quick." Elena exhaled.

"The oil tank has a massive hole in it. I'm going to have to either seal it or just order you a new one." He explained, looking at her apologetically.

"Whatever's quicker." She smiled, wanting to get out as soon as possible. This place not only smelt just like that truck, but gave her massive hit of nostalgia and she found herself loathing the very place she used to constantly visit.

"The seal is quicker, but you'll have to eventually get it fixed. Are you sure you don't want a new one?" He asked, trying to be helpful. Elena, again, wasn't with it. But she appreciated his concern.

After a long pause and contemplation of the long term benefits, she agreed. "Alright, order me a new one."

"Great. It'll take four to eight days to arrive and an extra to install. I'll give you a call when it comes in." He grinned, writing the details of the car down in a booklet.

"Do you want me to pay some of it now?" She asked, fully intending to grab her wallet and place a deposit.

"Pay? Elena, you're not paying." Tyler interjected, laughing slightly at her offer. "On us."

"Tyler, I couldn't–"

"Consider it a welcome home gift." He offered.

"You do know I'm not staying right?" She chuckled, grinning widely at his kindness.

"Just take it." He implored quietly, leaning in for a hug.

"You're the best." She praised, accepting the gesture and wrapping her hands around his torso for the second time today. "Thank you both so much."

"No problem."

"I better get back to...Jenna." She yawned, letting him go. "I'll be sure to give you a call."

After saying her goodbyes and countless words of gratitude, she ducked under the metal door.

"You're still here?" She heard a heavy voice ask from behind her. Glancing at the blue car parked on the side of the road, she confirmed her suspicions.

"Like you said, I can't drive up to New York in my car." She nodded, pressing her lips into a tight line. She should've known he'd be here. Five years might be a long time, but people don't change – hardly, if they do. Who else did he ever hang around apart from her? Tyler. And where did Tyler usually hang? Here. Even the retired detective couldn't put two and two together.

"How long are you here for?" He asked, not daring to inch closer. They were at least ten meters apart, but he knew if he came closer she wouldn't still be talking to him.

"A few days." She swallowed, pressing her weight on the balls of her heels.

"Let me guess," He started. "Mason has to order a part. That alone takes four to eight days. Then we have to replace the old part with the new part. So you're looking at at least five days, give or take?" He raised a brow in question. Even though she was, she didn't like that he was implying she was lying. How did he know anyway? Was he still able to read her? Well it was one thing to read her, but knowing her exact situation was weird. Even as friends he wasn't able to do that. At least not that she knew of. Oh, and 'we'? She exhaled loudly, flicking her eyelids up from the ground in tire. "Thought so."

"How did you know?" She ran her tongue along the dry skin on her bottom lip, darting her eyes to the space next to him. Primarily because if she watched him as he talked, the words would become white noise and she'd just end up reminiscing the way those lips moved against hers, or how he used to use them to whisper sweet nothings into her ears.

"I know you." He shrugged nonchalantly. That wasn't true. He used to know her. He knew her. But she hadn't completely changed. "And...I work here." He clenched his jaw in embarrassment. Oh, so that's what he meant by 'we'. She knew straight away he wasn't proud of his occupation. Why? Because he always talked about how he'd go to art school and design the pieces for the Mystic Falls art exhibitions and auction off his sketches. But not all of them. He always said he'd keep one. The one of her laughing intently on his bed in his navy button up. Three buttons undone and nothing underneath.

/ / / / / / / / / / / /

"Elena?" Damon mumbled as he lifted his head off the pillow. He had expected to see her glancing back at him as he opened his eyes.

She smiled at his adorable state as she stumbled in from the bathroom. "Hey."

"Hey," He replied as she threw herself onto the bed next to him. "Thought you might have left without me."

"No," She started as she adjusted on top of the sheets. "We don't have to be at school for…" She trailed, holding her bare wrist up to her view. "at least twenty minutes ago." She grinned into his lips as she leaned forward to reach him.

"Who are you," He chuckled lightly. In the span of a month, Elena had become less concerned about school and more about spending every waking minute with Damon. She wouldn't have dared being a second late in the past. "And what have you done with Elena?"

"Shut up, you love it." She pecked him. He smiled to himself, admiring the curves of her cleavage as he stroked her hair gently. Since they finally became a thing almost five months ago, he had her several times. None, however, had been as great as this. As his eyes kept their gaze, analysing her, he thought about all the times he had felt guilty for briefly glancing their way. He used to be ashamed of even looking at them. Now, all he wanted to do was leave sloppy kisses along their curvature. He wanted to show her how much he appreciated them. And, everything else about her. "What's that face?"

"What face?" He raised his brows, letting his gaze linger a little longer before he returned his eyes to hers.

"That face." She smiled softly down at him. He hadn't noticed, but a huge smirk had washed over his lips.

His eyebrows stretched to his hairline and his pupils rolled back as his lips strung smoothly; "I'm happy."

A wide grin stretched to the sides of her cheeks as he smiled into her lips like she had previously. Not wanting to lose contact, as he leaned on his back, she rolled on top of him, pulling his jaw up to allow her tongue entrance with her finger. His eyes faltered shut as she dragged her lips down the side of his mouth, then down his pecs and chest. Extending her hand up to his neck, she flicked her head up to look at him. She wanted to see what she was doing to him. She wanted to know he loved it. As his mouth fell open, she knew she was doing well. But as he immediately shook his head out of her grip, she sat up in confusion.

"I know what I want to do for the Duke Art Competition." Damon opened his eyes abruptly as she shifted off him and back onto her side of the bed. He sprung from the mattress and rushed over to his desk.

"You've been trying to come up with an idea for weeks and it comes now?" She scoffed, confusion on her brow as she tucked her knees into her chest. He quickly returned with his sketch book, pencil and eraser. "What is it?"

"You." He breathed, dropping the items onto the silky Egyptian Cotton sheets.

"You want to paint me for your biggest chance at getting into art school?" She asked, leaning forward. Of course she'd be beyond happy for Damon to paint her. He'd done it a few times before and sketched her hundreds of others. But she wasn't sure a simple girl from a small town would be a good inspiration. Obviously she was flattered that she inspired him, but part of the criteria was having a historical, cultural or contemporary inspiration. How would he fit her into it?

"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, heading to his drawer and throwing on some sweatpants. She giggled at that. He never wore sweatpants out. He claimed it too 'Stefan'.

"Okay, your choice." She shrugged, trusting his judgement. He knew more about this stuff than she did. She did however, know his routine. He'd always get her to do something and she'd have to stay still for ages. She didn't mind though. She felt kind of special. He was literally watching her for hours. "What do you want me to do?"

"Lay down on the bed and we'll go from there." He instructed, as he grabbed the pencil and put it up to his lips in thought. He sat on one corner of the bed with his book balancing on his knee.

"Now what?" She asked.

"Change sides." He pointed, observing where the sunlight was coming in from. It was broken into shard like fragments and if she was positioned right, it'd create the effect he envisioned in the heavenly state he was in a couple of minutes ago.

"I thought that was your 'special side'." She rolled her eyes.

"Shut up." He laughed, making little notes on a spare page. "Take your clothes off."

"What?" Her eyes bulged at his nonchalant tone. She was not going to let him submit a naked portrait of her to Duke University. No way in hell. "No."

"E, you won't be naked. You're wearing my shirt." He spoke justifyingly.

"You said take off my clothes." She narrowed her eyes on him warningly, sitting up. "That implies me being naked."

"I said your clothes, not mine." He chuckled, shaking his head as he kept his eyes glued to the spare paper, making notes on how his inspiration would link to the bigger picture.

"Still. This is Duke University. I'd rather them not see me half naked."

"Okay, a) you're not even going to Duke, b) they won't know who the painting is of, and c) it's art – almost everyone is naked." He explained, glancing up at her briefly as his pencil moved with a mind of it's own. "You're lucky I'm letting you be somewhat clothed."

"You're lucky I'm letting you paint me." She groaned, folding her arms tightly into her chest. "Don't push it."

"Please, E..." He begged, finally fully looking at her.

"Ugh…" She sighed, standing off the mattress and peeling her black panties down her legs. "You're lucky I love you."

"I love you too." He grinned, peeling the page of notes off and starting with a fresh new sheet of art paper.

"You better." She scoffed, sliding his top off, unclipping her bra and shrugging it back on her shoulders, returning to her spot on the bed. "Next?"

"Lay on your side," He started. She followed immediately. "No, sort of…" She moved back and forth, trying to take his direction. It was difficult though. He kept changing his mind. "I'll move you." He decided, walking to the other side of the bed. Gently readjusting her shapes, he guided her onto her side. Moving her limbs into the perfect positions, he combed her semi-straight hair into place. He adjusted his navy blue button up on her skin so she was somewhat covered. Not only did he want to make her feel comfortable, but he also wanted to keep her slightly hidden. He liked to think he wasn't very possessive, but there were times where he'd draw the line. Even when they were only friends, he wouldn't want anyone to see her like that. Now that she was his to hold and see, he'd rather not have other people viewing her too. Those were his parts of her body to admire. They were his to love and kiss and leave mauve markings on. They were hers and he was the only one allowed to see them. So as long as she wasn't completely revealed, he could cope with the idea of people viewing her body. Besides, it was incredibly aesthetically pleasing.

"Hurry up and get started, I'm not staying like this forever." She complained as he returned to his previous activity and found the perfect spot to sketch the draft from. Yes, the draft. The painting would take a while and he wasn't going to make her stay in that position forever. A detailed sketch would be enough for him to do it without her there. Though he'd much rather analyse her every detail for hours on end.

He took a quick photo of her with his phone to make sure he could catch everything he'd missed later.

"Okay, Cranky Pants." He teased, starting with the basic shape of her figure. Gripping his pencil loosely, his hand swerved against the paper in rhythm. Once he had the basis, he defined from her feet first, allowing her to relax each part of her body as he finished each off. He stuck to every little shadow. Every swerve and curve. Every little detail down to the way her knees would bend and the ridges right under to her hipbones. He had covered from right below her upper thighs to right above her hip bones, reopening the shirt at her stomach and leaving the navy fabric to fall over the peaks of each breast, just covering them. Cleavage was clearly still visible, but through a lot of self control, Damon resisted closing it more. Nobody at Duke would know this was his Elena. Heck, nobody would even know it is Elena. They'd just think he drew her free hand or off inspiration of another artist. As hard as it was, he got through it, gliding the lead up to the collar of the shirt which finished on the tip of each collarbone. "Can you laugh?"

"I can't just laugh." She giggled.

"That." A grin washed over his lips. "Do that again." Without trying, the same giggle fell naturally off her lips, her head jerking back slightly. "Stop right there." He stated. She stopped where she was, mid giggle, trying not to laugh out of that position. Her mouth was slightly open, her front teeth were peaking and a huge grin stretched across her face, creasing the corners of her eyes. It was pure beauty. Natural beauty at it's finest. "I won't take long." He said, trying to catch every detail he could as quickly as he could to put her out of her misery. Her mouth was getting tired and her body was tense from holding herself up. As his pencil rounded off the last few eyelashes, he compared the sketch to her real life figure. Of course the sketch was rough and in person she literally looked like an angel, but he was proud. This would be his masterpiece. "Done. Relax."

"Thank god." She whined, collapsing on her back. "How long was that?"

"Almost two hours." He said apologetically.

"My back is so sore."

"Want a massage?" He asked.

"Yes." She exhaled, reaching out to him. "First, show me."

"Here." He passed the booklet to her.

"Wow." She sighed, running her fingers lightly over the ridges and shading he had created. "It's beautiful."

"It wouldn't be if you weren't." He smiled genuinely, rolling onto the bed next to her.

"So..." She trailed, closing the book. "Once the competition is over, are you going to sell it?"

"Definitely not." He shook his head, nudging her to roll onto her stomach.

"Why?" She questioned, flipping herself over. Damon propped himself on his elbow to reach her back. As he pressed down on one of the ridges below her shoulder blade with his thumb, she moaned in release.

"So when we have our own house I get to see it everyday while I work on my art." The words rolled off his tongue like velvet as he kneaded the other side of her back.

"I love you." She exhaled, repeating his words in her head over and over.

"I love you more." He beamed.

"Are we even going to school?" She asked seriously after a long pause. Even being less careful, Elena knew school was important in her future. Especially senior year. But missing one day wouldn't kill her, would it?

"Is that an actual question?"

/ / / / / / / / / / / /

He promised he'd keep that one and they'd hang it up in their house and he'd get to admire it every day when he'd go off to his studio in the morning. It would be there, hanging on the shitty sky blue paint jobbed wall as he sipped his bourbon, creating more and more masterpieces of his muse. Then, when he'd have his exhibitions and auction them and people would ask who he painted in every single one of his works, he'd say; the most beautiful woman in the world.

But that promise consisted words he had said, and everything is easier said than done.

Elena knew to leave it alone. She wasn't close enough to him to ask and she didn't want to be. She could deal with the lost information of five years of his life, because she wasn't in it. Trying to insert herself now wasn't something she wanted to do.

"Oh." She decided she'd say.

"How are you getting home?" He questioned, stepping forward slightly. Elena knew what he was about to offer and there was no way she was taking it this time. Last night, she knew it would end horribly, and it did. She was not going to let him drive her. Not one chance.

"I'm running."

"Are you sure?" He started, finally noticing the clothes she was wearing. Everything was fitted and he didn't like it. It was too revealing. Everyone could see her curves. But it was her choice and as much as he hated it, his opinion wasn't valid when it came to her. Well, he didn't hate it. He just hated that everyone else got to view what he was right now. "Cause I can–"

"I can run." She interrupted, quickly unrolling her earphones and shoving them in her ears.

"I'll probably see you around town then." He stated, but it sounded more like a question. She hoped not, but there was no way to prevent it – other than not go out. Either way, she knew how to deal with the confrontation now. Just answer his questions briefly and get out as soon as possible.

"I wouldn't count on it." She said, clicking play on her music and jogging off.

"Jeremy! Really?" Elena groaned for the millionth time, whacking his arm with the back of her hand.

"What?" Jeremy chuckled, shoving two small blueberries up his nostrils and flashing a toothy smile.

"You're twenty one, not five." She stated, trying not to let out a giggle. "Help me."

"Fine." He whined, rolling his eyes in a full two circles.

"Do they still sell Ben and Jerry's here?" She asked, pushing the trolley up against the edge of the freezer.

"How am I supposed to know? I don't live here anymore." He scoffed. "And since when do you get Ben and Jerry's?"

"Dylan loves it."

"Little Gilbert?" Damon questioned, a little box of tomatoes in his hand.

"Damon?" Jeremy gasped, shooting the blueberries out of his nose.

"You're fucking everywhere." She mouthed under her breath. Acting like she was occupied, she scanned the freezer for the Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough tubs.

"Hey Jer." He laughed, walking over to give him a hug. "How have you been?"

"Pretty good, you?" Jeremy replied. Elena stuck her head in the cool freezer. She wasn't trying to hide, she was just trying to find the stupid Ben and Jerry's ice cream and avoid talking to Damon for the second time today. The first was difficult and awkward enough.

"Yeah, alright." He nodded. "You still drawing?"

"Yeah. Hey, thanks man, without you I wouldn't be in art school." Jeremy grinned. Damon sighed at that. Not because he wasn't happy for Jeremy – he meant a lot to him, kind of like a second brother even if he often teased him. But because Damon was supposed to be there too. If he had just taken the offer, he would've been in his last year now. He didn't see the point in going to Duke if Elena – the one who pushed him to pursue his art in the first place – wasn't by his side. But he should've taken the offer. He would've been designing the town pieces by now, and maybe even made it to the New York exhibitions.

"No need. You're extremely talented." He commended, bowing his head slightly.

"Have you finished your course yet? I'm only halfway through mine."

"I…never started it." Damon trailed, keeping his gaze fixated on Jeremy.

"Why not?" Jeremy questioned. "You got the scholarship."

"I guess I just lost my main inspiration." He swallowed, quickly glancing in Elena's direction. She ran her tongue across her bottom lip and he could tell he struck a nerve. She was listening, and she new what he was referring to. Or who, he was referring to. "Anyway, I better go."

"Hey, you should come over for dinner one night." Jeremy spoke up.

"Jeremy!" Elena shout-whispered, her eyes popping out their sockets as she slammed the freezer door.

"Sorry, Elena's a bit tired." Jer covered, rolling his eyes at her before returning his focus to Damon. "Before we leave?"

"Oh, I don't know..."

"You'll get to meet Dylan." Jer drew out the name in attempt to persuade the dark haired man in front of him.

"Dylan?" Damon questioned. The name sounded rather familiar.

"Yeah, Elena's–"

"My boyfriend." She clenched her jaw, eyeing Jeremy not to say anything more. He took the hint and shut up, making a mental note to ask her about it later.

"Ok, sounds good." Damon lifted his eyebrows cockily, his stance growing stiff.

"What?" Elena had to double take at that. Did he actually want to have dinner with them?

"Sounds good." He repeated quickly, his tone becoming short and cold. "I assume you 'lost' my number. Jer do you still have it?"

"Yep." Jer nodded. He seemed to be unaware of the change in attitudes.

"Text me, I'm free all week. Should I bring Stefan?"

"Yeah, if you want to." He shrugged, keeping the conversation at a casual level.

"Cool. See you then. Bye Little Gilbert." He waved, turning towards the checkouts. "Hey, E?" He stopped, realising how cold he had become. Truth was, he had no right to get upset if Elena had a boyfriend. It was five years since she left and that obviously meant they were over. It was time for him to get over it and move on. She obviously had. But that didn't mean he couldn't suss out the competition at this dinner. Scratch that, it didn't mean he couldn't suss out her new man at this dinner. Yeah, that's better.

"What?" She said with the same tone he had previously developed.

"Sixteen." He smiled lightly, hoping she'd forgive his short tantrum.

"See you." She sighed, reopening the freezer and getting what she originally came here for; Ben and Jerry's.

Soz there is quite a bit of dialog at the end and personally (idk about you guys), I prefer less. I just thought after a lot of explanation throughout the chap, this scene didn't really need it...

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Big thanks to all who have reviewed! Please continue to review, fav and follow! Thanks guys!

See ya soon x