"What are you doing?" Elena asked Damon, nodding towards the paper and pencil he was holding.

"I can tell you what I'm not doing: being nosy," he told her.

Elena laughed. It had been a few days since they had dinner together, and she was becoming a little more relaxed around him. Sure, he still gave her a hard time, but he wouldn't be Damon if he didn't. And he was trying – trying to be her friend, trying to give her a little bit of room. She appreciated it, but wasn't sure how to tell him. So she didn't.

She was curled up on her bed, still wearing her school clothes, just unwinding. She had been reading a little, something she hadn't had time for in quite a while. Elena had chosen a copy of The Hunger Games when she had stopped at the bookstore. It was a story about a girl bent on survival. She figured she could relate, or at the very least, pick up some tips to keep herself alive.

"Come on, Damon. Are you writing something?" Elena asked.

"Please, I'll leave that to you and my little brother," he said with a laugh.

"What? I like writing," Elena said defensively.

"Nothing against it," Damon replied easily. "In this case, you're just searching for depth in a shallow puddle."

"I hardly agree with that," Elena said as she fingered the cover of her novel. She saw Damon raise his eyebrow and took that as a sign to explain. "I mean, if there's one thing you don't lack, it's depth."

"Thanks, I think," Damon said.

"Well, seriously, being a vampire is pretty much a whole new depth in itself. Now tell me what you're doing."

"I caught Stefan staring at a picture of the two of you today," Damon said, changing the subject.

"I miss him," Elena replied simply. "But you can't just distract me that easily. I'm not a cat, and Stefan isn't one of those laser pointer lights."

"You'd be in more danger from him if you were a cat," Damon said laughing. He saw Elena scowling at him and tried to gather himself. "I thought it was funny."

She grew quiet for a few seconds and watched him intently, and then it became clear to her what he was doing. He was drawing! The way he was holding the pencil, the sweep of his arm over the page, the concentration on his face. God, she was usually more observant.

"What are you drawing?" Elena asked him.

"Doodling."

"You're doodling?" Elena asked him, skeptically.

"It's been over a century, my dear," he said. "I've pretty much honed my doodling skills."

"The fake modesty doesn't suit you," she said. "I mean, I just can't picture you doing anything unless you were the best at it."

"I have," Damon said, quietly.

"Like what?" Elena said with a laugh.

"Like loving," he replied sombrely.

They both grew quiet after that. So quiet that she could hear the scrape of the pencil against the paper, rasping, creating. He wasn't looking up at anything, so he must be drawing from memory, she thought. She picked her book back up and read a few more chapters until he came up next to her bed, the piece of paper folded in his hand.

"It's getting late. I'll watch out for you tonight, but I should go before Jenna tries to castrate me," he said.

"Yeah," Elena agreed.

"Thank you for the lovely evening, Elena," he said. He pressed the folded paper into her hand and was gone as soon as her fingers curled around it.

Curiosity overwhelmed her and she opened it quickly. Katherine. Elena's heart dropped unexplainably as she looked at the face so much like her own staring back at her. It was exquisite, life-like. He had drawn the eyes warm, almost laughing, something she had never seen her look like. It made sense why he hadn't needed to look up at anything to draw it. She went to close it again when she saw something she hadn't noticed before, being so struck by the eyes.

Around the neck was her necklace. Her necklace. Down to the last detail. It was… her. He had been drawing her. Elena felt heat creep into her cheek, causing them to flush. Her heart, which just moments ago had dropped down to her stomach was aching sweetly, swollen, full of something she couldn't really name. Didn't want to name.

"Thank you," she whispered, knowing he could hear her as he watched the house. "It's… beautiful. You made me beautiful."