A/N: Hey there my lovely readers! Thank you for your favs, alerts and reviews! I love all of them *hugs*
I don't know if you have noticed, but there will be another A2A Delena Christmas Exchange this year! Yaay! So if you have a Delena Christmas one-shot idea, write a prompt on tvdmixing's LiveJournal (
). But remember, if you have a prompt you must write someone else's. You know, it's better to give than receive :) I sure as hell will participate in this year too! :)

Again, big BIG thanks to my beta, LeighJ11!

Xo
Niki


"When you're dealing with an unknown the only sure commodity is uncertainty." - Clive Cussler


Chapter 7: Are You Sure?

DAMON

The blaring sun painted golden streaks across my blanket, officially waking me up. I was awake later than usual and still I had to wipe the drowsiness out of my eyes. My thoughts drifted to all that I had to do today and so I got up and started to get ready.

The shower was hot and heavy on my bare skin when I stepped inside, turning my body numb from the pleasure of it. While my body occupied, my mind was free to wander and it began to drift towards the bet I had made with Elena Gilbert. What kind of man had I become? To make childish bets and possibly hurt either, or both of us in the process.

Yes, we were aware of our self-loathing for each other and it seemed highly unlike that anyone of us, or both of us, would develop feelings for each other. But scathing words and nice dates didn't mix. What were we both going to turn into, in order to get through this bet? And was it even worth it?

My mind stayed on these questions as I exited the shower and dressed. I had quite a few phone calls to make and so while making them, I paced around my hotel room, catching my own reflection a hundred times. By the time my calls were done with, I found myself staring into the mirror, waiting for my own reflection to answer the questions inside.

After a few minutes, there was no answer and I knew it was because I was too biased. I wanted to hurt Elena, the way she had hurt me for years. She had crushed me when I wanted her so badly and she had treated me with no respect or human decency.

But the other part of me didn't want to hurt a woman, because it was the very woman in question who had taught me that being hurt, the way that I had been hurt, was wrong and I would never make someone else feel that way. I also thought about what she had said. It was plausible that she had changed. She was what? Twenty-four now? Twenty-five? Was I holding on to something I should have let go of a long time ago?

I shook my head at myself, and the mirror copied the movement. I needed someone to talk to, and I knew just the person. My coat and shoes were on before I consciously thought about going to see the only person who could gave me good advice. My baby bro: Stefan. By the time I made it to the hospital and his room, he was silently sat in his bed.

I tried to explain that I felt ashamed of the way I had acted towards her, a woman no less, but that while I believed the old wounds had healed, they seemed to be forever reminding me of the pain I had felt when I first received them; raw and fleshy. He nodded the whole way through, giving no indications to what he thought of this whole mess.

That was until I sighed and asked, "Have I been an idiot?"

Stefan pursed his lips for a moment before shaking his head slightly. "I don't think you can call this as being an idiot. Curious, maybe. Or if you seriously want to be melodramatic, then you can call it nastiness, but not stupidity," he replied honestly, looking me in the eyes.

Stefan was usually the considerate one in the family, but he was honest. He always thought before he acted and arranged sentences so that they weren't such a sharp blow, but he had never lied to me when I needed his advice. He wasn't a saint; he did make stupid decisions sometimes. Like the one that had landed his ass in this hospital.

As his big brother, I had always felt like I needed to be beside him, constantly, if I wanted to protect him to the best of my ability. But at the mere age of fourteen, he had proven and been explicitly clear that he didn't need my protection because he could handle himself just fine. He seemed to always be the best brother, the kindest, and the most honest.

I could even believe he was my big brother, and not the other way around. Stefan's motto had always been: What is life, without experiencing mistakes, and surviving them? I had never understood what he was trying to express or why he held on to the saying but recently I had realized that I was doing the same.

I didn't regret my past, be it good or bad. I had learnt to live with it and accept that it made me who I was today. So why was I making this bet with Elena? Why was I opening old wounds, dragging up the past and hurting not just myself, but possibly her too? That wasn't me and it wasn't the man I had become.

I voiced my concerns to Stefan. "This isn't right. I've never been one to play with women's feelings. Even if they… had made my life a living hell. I make them clear what I want before starting anything with them, if you know what I mean," I winked.

But my words about what Elena Gilbert had done to me when we were younger didn't feel true to me anymore. Even though they had happened, and I had experienced bad things from them, I couldn't bring myself to seduce her according to the bet. I was beginning to doubt my own motivations. Was it really revenge? Or did I want an excuse to be around Elena?

"I know you, Damon. But maybe it's time to put that side of you away. You said it yourself many times; you don't believe in coincidences. So here is what I think: Fate wanted you to take revenge on Marie… I mean Elena," he corrected.

I grimaced. "Revenge is such an ugly word."

Even as I said it, I caught Stefan's eyes and they shone with amusement and understanding. He didn't want me to get revenge on Elena. He knew I didn't want to get revenge on Elena.

I wondered if being an actor had finally gotten on my nerves when I offered this bet. But even as I thought it, I knew it wasn't true. Elena was the reason: her presence, her taunting words and my memories I had of her.

Stefan spoke up as I descended into my own motivations again, pulling me out of my own head. "Admit it, you're enjoying this. You know you can strike back, and you're the one who controls this game. You may not want to hurt Elena, but you do find her attractive. You want the opportunity to flirt but hate her at the same time. Maybe even had some hate sex and get it all out of your system." He playfully pushed at my arm while trying to get a confession out of me.

I couldn't help but smile as her stunned face came to my mind. A sense of satisfaction ran through me again and I nodded. "I think you just summed it up completely."

As if on cue, someone stepped into the room. From the uncertain clicking of her heels, I knew immediately that it wasn't the nurse in question. I turned towards the door and spied a short, slender woman. Her skin was light compared to Italians and a blush stained her cheeks.

Her blonde curls hugged her face, framing it with a glow. She looked young and infinitely sad despite her floral dress. It seemed she had gotten lost and found herself in Stefan's room, and not the one she had been initially searching for. Her eyes flickered over me and my brother before she cleared her throat, breaking the silence with a hurried. "Scusi!"

She rattled the apology off so fast that it took me a while to digest the Italian word. By the time I had, she had already fled.

"Who was she?" Stefan asked.

I looked back to him from where my eyes had been on the girl in the door frame. I immediately recognized the grin on his face; the one I had seen countless times when he spotted a girl he found attractive. I rolled my eyes at him. Only my baby brother would want to hook up with someone in a hospital.

"I have no idea," I paused, muttering under my breath. "But I hope she didn't recognize me,"

My brother was at the brink of laughing, but ultimately he didn't express his amusement. "The world doesn't revolve around you, Damon. You should have realize that already," he said with a forgiving smile.

But the anxious twinkle in his eyes told me that he understood why I didn't want anybody to know about me being here. "Anyway, we were talking about Elena and I think that she may have really changed. It has been a decade, Damon."

"Well, I think you're blinded by her appearance too, like I was a long time ago. Behind her pretty mask, she's still the same sneaky woman she once was," I said, quite sure of my words.

Stefan didn't respond and went back to staring at the wall. I looked around the room absently before my eyes fell upon his splinted leg. I swallowed hard. Dr. Pontrelli still couldn't tell me anything useful, only sprouting the same line: we just have to wait and see. But I'd had enough of waiting. I couldn't even imagine how Stefan was feeling.

"Would you do something for me?" He asked suddenly, snatching me from my thoughts and my eyes from his leg.

I immediately replied, without thinking. "Fire away, lil bro," I grinned soon after because from his smile alone I already knew what he would ask

"Please find out who she was," he said with wide, pleading eyes.

He looked like a puppy who wanted someone to take him for a walk. He pouted hard, acting as if I had ever said no to one of his favors. "I'll do my best." I nodded.

I stood up from my seat and prepared to leave. I warned my brother if he wouldn't rest despite the doctor's order, I would strap him to his bed myself.

He rolled his eyes and responded with "It's not like I can go anywhere."

I grinned, answering as I left the door way, "that's never stopped you before."

I heard him laughing as I made my way down the hospital corridor. In these moments, it felt like everything was going to be just fine and that nothing bad would ever happen to him. My brother was a good man, and the bad better avoid him. Otherwise that 'bad' would be forced to face me, and I'd do anything for my brother.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I apologized automatically.

I had accidently hit someone whilst aimlessly walking down the corridor, my thoughts wrapped up in Stefan and his leg. I had been planning to leave but had diverted to the nurse's station to get the name of, and the reason for her stay, Stefan's mystery girl, out of Caroline. I looked around to see who I had bumped into and it seemed that by chance it was Elena Gilbert.

She glanced up at me with long lashes sweeping her olive cheeks and it was quite captivating. I noticed she was taking an uncertain step backwards, as if she had saved herself from falling over when I bumped into her. This give my eyes the excuse to roam her body. Slim, long legs with a skirt that was modest but short enough to show case them.

I had to admit that she wasn't just an exceptional beauty at the age of fourteen but still was, if not more so. Her delicate features and graceful steps still entranced me and the fire in her eyes were born for a true siren. She knew exactly how to use her body to make men fall at her feet and I wondered if she was trying to do that to me right now.

If she was, she was most certainly winning. No, I scolded myself. I was no longer the little kid who loved a girl because of her appearances. Intrinsic values were more important to me now. She had no virtue, which meant that her chances of seducing me and making me feel what I once did were down to zero.

"So have you managed to make reservations to somewhere?" she broke the silence with a slightly irritated tone and folded arms.

Her expression was full of questions, and hope. Maybe she believed I would retreat from the bet that easily? Well this morning I might have and wanted to, but the sight of her brought forth her childhood offences. I couldn't let her win. This was my game. I was an actor, I could play pretend and I could pretend well enough to work my way inside her heart. If she had one at all…

"Yes. Eight o'clock at Giardino's," I drew my lips into a smile because I knew it would shatter her dreams into pieces.

"That's an elegant and expensive restaurant," she reminded me sharply, as if to criticize the choice I'd made.

I wasn't troubled by her words. "I can afford it," I replied confidently and carelessly.

Part of the reason I chose this restaurant was because I wanted to brag. So of course I figured my wallet would pay the price of it. But this bet, our little unfair game was worth it.

"The emphasis was on the word 'elegant'," Elena clarified and looked at me with narrowed eyes, continuing to be stubborn. There was something evil at the corner of her mouth as she returned my smile with one of her charming ones. One I hadn't seen in a very long time. "Will you be able to eat with a knife and fork?"

I almost laughed at her mocking words. But instead I kept playing my role, hoping to throw her off and take her arrogance down a notch. I reached forward slowly, dragging out the suspense before I touched her soft skin. She winced as my fingers caught hold of her chin and she immediately smacked my hands away.

I leaned threateningly close to her. "I'm more concerned for you, Elena. Will you be able to keep your clothes on until the end of the evening?" I whispered hotly, before turning and walking away.

There wasn't any visible change in my determined steps, but it was Damon Salvatore who walked away, leaving behind the character that would most likely win the unattainable Elena Gilbert for himself. Women like her always looked for straightforward and strong men to surrender themselves to them.

Not that I could offer myself in that way. I had offered that to her once, but she didn't want me. Therefore, I wouldn't try to get her to love me for myself. I had changed tactics, prepared for this fight. I had created a man that would be her downfall.

Elena Gilbert was going to be the first one to say "I love you." Only I could win this game.


ELENA

I still shuddered at his touch. A bead of sweat ran down my spine like a cold breeze at the memory of his warm fingers. With my eyes closed, I lay in an almost agonized state on my small apartment's carpet with pictures spinning through my mind. I wanted to run, get far away from here and go somewhere, anywhere, where my past would seem to be nothing but a mirage.

I wanted to, but I wouldn't, because I couldn't let him win. I couldn't let a gloating grin creep on to his face when he would see me run away; from him, my past, my mistakes and the bet. Even with my determination to stay: pride and suffering struggled for dominance inside me.

Was it worth saving my dignity when every time I looked at him I came face to face with the worst years of my life? Was it worth obeying the rules of this stupid bet just to rub it in his face that I was a better person?

Yes! My mind suddenly shouted. He needed someone to teach him that women were not toys, and he could not just use them and then throw them away. He couldn't expect me to love him, could he? I hadn't loved anyone in years. If he thought that the uttered "I love you's" I had said previously were lies, then maybe he was right. It was possible that I never really loved anyone, because I had thought that offering my heart to someone was a weakness.

But Matt was different…

Fortunately, the ringing tone of my phone rescued me from the man's face and I struggled to my feet. I had one hour to pull myself together until this stupid dinner with Damon. After all, a woman with puffy, red eyes from crying and an oversized t-shirt could hardly win this bet. I had to transform back to my old self, the one who had made Damon love her so long ago.

I planned to do that all over again, but this time, I didn't want to let him go until I heard those three words coming from his mouth.

In all these thoughts of the bet, it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't been on a date in a long time. I didn't even know what to wear. But as I walked to my closet, I tried to evoke my teenage self.

That's when I noticed my least used, most provocative dress. I pulled it out, slipping into the black satin and lace fabric. The dress clung to my body like a second skin, stretching where it needed to and show casing as much of my figure as I would like. I went simply with my hair: pinning it up and did my make up with pale red lips and smoky eyes.

I fished in my jewelry box, trying to decide what to put with the dress as my phone rang and went silent for the second time. I ignored it and took out some silver bracelets, which clicked together as I slid them down my wrist. The noise roused Rambo who had been sleeping in his basket. No doubt he thought I was taking him for a walk.

He padded over to me and stared at me with large, expectant eyes. I tapped his nose softly and instead gave him some dog food while I called a cab. I fussed him after I had gathered my shoes, bag and coat and waited for my cab. It didn't take long and I was at the restaurant fifteen minutes later than our agreed time.

No unfortunate factor or traffic jam had held me back from being punctual. I had been late on purpose. I elegantly made Damon know that he didn't get to tell me when and where I should be. I wanted him understand that he didn't, and couldn't control me.

"Good evening!" I greeted the front of house employee. "I'm looking for the table reserved under the name Salvatore," I flashed a charming smile.

The man searched for the name on his computer before looking up with a shake of his head. "I apologize ma'am, but we do not have a reservation under that name."

I felt my throat close up and anger flashed hot over my skin. Had he just set me up? What kind of stupid joke was he playing on me? I knew the answer immediately: it was the same game I was playing with him. Trying to preserve the rest of my pride, I lifted my chin and prepared to leave, but someone stopped me.

"Going somewhere?" Damon asked, blocking my way.

He was dressed elegantly and had even donned a jacket and a tie. He had probably wasted hours on his hair too, as it looked the exact same as on every photo on the internet. I had to admit, he did look good. But this wasn't nearly enough to sweep me off of my feet.

"I thought you wouldn't come," I said quietly so only he could hear it while I never looked away from his eyes.

"I could say the same about you," he responded.

He had good reason to doubt me, but I wouldn't have admitted it to save my life. I turned my head away and glanced around the restaurant while Damon went to sort out our reservation. Did he think that because he was famous he would just get a table? I half listened as I took in the brilliant white and gold colors.

I'd never been here before and I wouldn't have ever imagined that I would be coming here with a celebrity. Speaking of, I turned to face Damon, wondering if I had misheard him say the reservation was for a Mr. Saltzman. Who on earth was Mr. Saltzman?

The employee nodded, apparently finding a reservation for that name. "May I escort you, and your date, to your table, Mr. Saltzman?" He asked politely.

The employee, from his wide eyes and pink cheeks, clearly knew who Damon was and seemed to be very eager to escort us to our table. He also seemed to understand why Damon had used an alias. I understood but I was surprised. Surely using his real name would have gotten him a lot of freebies, and luxuries.

"No, thank you. We will find our way," Damon replied and nodded politely.

He then fixed his ocean blue eyes on me and offered his hand. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

I knew he didn't only mean for dinner, but the entire bet. He was looking at me defiantly, as if he was waiting for me to backtrack. But instead, I forced a mischievous smile onto my face while I accepted his outstretched hand. Although I tried to touch as little as possible.

"I'm sure," I nodded and we started heading towards our table.

An interesting evening awaited us, I was certain of that.


A/N: Ok I was mean again, leaving the chapter before the fun part. But I promise I will make it up to you! Leave me a review if your read it :)

Until next time!

Niki