He stared at me. Waiting to get some sort of response.
I felt vulnerable, I was completely naked. I had never been naked in front of a man before. I had never seen a naked man in my whole life, and there he was, with his chiseled abs, the work of vampire Photoshop, and those icy blue eyes of his.
As much as I would like to say that we were both naked and equally vulnerable in this tub, it wasn't true. Damon knew what he was doing. He knew this was going to be very uncomfortable for me. He wasn't vulnerable when he was naked. No. Quite the contrary. He was at his comfort zone, very secure about himself, and very proud too. He knew how he looked, and he knew the effect he had on women, he knew the effect he had on me.
Confidence Bella. Be Confident.
"What about that thing at the airport?" I asked calmly, looking at him in the eye.
He squinted his eyes, and took a sip of wine, I did the same.
"A bit salty for my taste," he said.
I grinned.
"Oh, so this is the part where we discuss those things I wasn't supposed to worry about and that we have yet to discover and discuss..." I said, quoting his letter.
He rested his arms on both sides of the tub, calmly.
"Mmm hmmm," he answered.
I took a sip out of my wine.
"Well... the way I see it, I was being a silly girl..." I said and shrugged, "I've got issues with saying goodbye."
"Oh, so that was what all the bawling was about?" He said seriously, but with a small smirk on his lips.
Cocky ass.
Bad choice of words Bella.
"Are you sure about that?" He asked again.
I nodded confidently.
He raised his eyebrows and took another sip. I did the same.
"In all honesty I thought you were going on a suicide mission..." I frowned, "which, according to the recent turn of events proves that you were."
I glared at him. He still hadn't told me what he was up to.
He rolled his eyes.
"Was it Jane?" I asked, referring to the state he came back in.
"No."
"Then who was it?" I asked, noticing the bubbles were starting to disappear.
He sighed.
"You are not letting go of this are you?" he was annoyed.
I shook my head.
"You want answers from me, I want answers from you," I told him, as I lowered my back into the water.
"Oh... so we're negotiating now?" he said, mischief in his eyes.
I shrugged.
He leaned forward, I bended my knees, and sat up, I hugged my legs and rested my head on top of them. I was creating a barrier between him and me, while also trying to cover myself up from the disappearing bubbles.
He snickered and moved closer to me, his legs wrapped around my sides.
Play it cool Bella. Shit. Is that what I think it is?
Be serious.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
"Where were you?" I asked quietly.
"Why were you crying?" he asked in return, while grabbing a sponge and using it to pour water on my arms.
"You first," I told him.
He scoffed.
"You go first," he replied.
"Are we really going to play this game now?" I asked.
"Are we?" he asked in return, wiggling his eyebrows.
I was asking about the never ending questions, and how he answered my questions with questions of his own, but he was referring to a completely different game, one I wasn't sure I was ready to play again, but that a huge part of me wanted to see where it lead to.
I rolled my eyes.
"We can be in here for hours you know," he told me, "wine?" he asked showing me the bottle. I gave him my glass and he poured some more.
I took a sip.
Had the kiss been so important to him?
"I meant what I said at the airport," I told him, looking directly into his eyes. I needed him to know that I was being honest.
If it was difficult for me to open up it was twice as hard for him to do so. So I knew I had to be the one to give the first step here.
He gazed into my eyes, trying to figure out if what I was saying was true.
"You have changed me," I continued.
His eyebrows came close together.
"I was scared something was going to happen to you... and it did," I told him, I let out a sigh, and decided to be honest with him, "I've known something was wrong for the past few days, and I knew it had to do with you."
He frowned, confused by my words, "What do you mean?" he asked.
I told him about the pain in my chest and how I had mysteriously appeared at that spot where he landed several times in the past few days. I told him about my endless and pointless runs, the feeling that I had to be somewhere and the fear of imminent danger.
He took a large drink of wine. He was quiet, I could tell he was putting stuff together in his head. He was in deep thought.
"What?" I asked.
He shook his head, "You are so weird," he whispered, taking my head in his hands and analyzing me like I was some awkward creature.
"Gee… thanks," I answered.
"I was hunting a witch," he said absentmindedly, his voice low, barely a whisper.
"What?" I asked in surprise, not expecting him to actually tell me anything.
He let my face go, and nodded.
"She kind of… cursed me," He said and leaned back on the tub, taking another sip of wine, "That's why all those creepy crawlers were coming out of me."
"What?" I asked again.
"Witches are bitchy, judgy little things. They have no sense of humor," he muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Damon! You know better than to piss off witches!" I told him, smacking his arm.
He shrugged.
"Was that what you were talking about with Carlisle?" I asked.
He stared at me. I'm thinking he was trying to make up his mind if he should share information with me. He put the glass of wine on the floor and turned around, his back to me. He pointed to the left part of his back.
I gasped.
His skin was turning purple. It was as if the healing had stopped and was regressing to the state it was before.
"Damon, this wasn't like this last night, it... it had healed," I said as I ran my fingers over the blue and reddish blotches.
"I know," he answered, "But that wasn't what I was showing you."
I looked again, there, under the purplish flesh was a mark. It was the same squiggly mark that I had seen on the Black Magic Wine bottles Sage had shown me.
"Is that what I think it is?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Is this where the wine comes from?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Was that why you were looking for her?" I asked.
"Among other reasons..." he answered under his breath.
I stared at his now again bruised back.
"The Volturi have been after this witch for a long time haven't they?" I said in realization. Why else would Carlisle know about the squiggly line? Of course he was surprised, this witch had to be really powerful.
Damon nodded.
"Damon, have others returned from missions like this?" I asked.
He nodded, "None of them made it though."
"So Felix and Demetri…" I said in barely a whisper.
He lowered his head. They hadn't been as lucky as he had. They hadn't escaped.
"Was Carlisle there when the others returned?" I asked.
He nodded.
It made sense now. Why Damon wanted me out of the room when Carlisle was inspecting him.
"You said the wine wasn't the one that helped you heal. That it was me," I was thinking out loud, "Is it my blood then?"
He turned his head to the side.
"I'm not sure… but maybe it is..." he answered.
"Does this mean you'll have to feed from me to get better again?" I asked.
He turned around completely, this time facing me.
"I don't know..." he answered.
"Do it," I told him, and raised my arm, putting my wrist at the height of his mouth.
"Bella-" he started saying.
"Do. It." I said again, menacing him with my eyes, "I don't ever want to see worms coming out of you ever again, and I never want to smell that disgusting putrid stench you came back with."
"I still have a good two or three days before that happens," he told me.
"I don't care. Do it," I ordered him, taking my wrist closer to his lips, "You are not putting me through that twice, I refuse to see you like that for a second time. Now drink up."
His eyes became soft and tender. It was as if he was realizing something, or letting his guard down or letting go of that stubbornness that characterized his insufferable personality.
"Why did you cry?" he asked me again.
"For the same reason you gave me that kiss," I answered and waved my wrist in front of him again.
He clenched his jaw tightly. He was fighting something. Like there was this thing that he really wanted to say.
"Damon," I said, waving my arm in his face, "Will you just bite it alrea-"
In a very swift movement, he grabbed my arm tightly with one hand, and with the other pulled me towards him, making me sit on his lap. His right arm was wrapped around my waist.
I gasped in surprise. I was not expecting this.
He stared at me intently, and let go of my arm. Our faces were less than an inch away from each other.
"Why were you crying?" he whispered, taking strands of wet hair off of my face.
"I already told you," I answered.
He shook his head no.
"Why do you need me to say it?" I asked, my voice barely audible.
"For the same reason you can't..." he whispered.
I understood what he was saying. I knew why he needed to hear it out loud. Saying stuff like this put us both in a very vulnerable position. We had both been hurt, badly. He had been hurt more times than I had, the same story, repeating itself, time after time.
"We're pretty screwed up aren't we?" I told him.
He didn't say anything, he closed his eyes and lowered his head.
I raised it with my hand, "eyes up here mister, I'm not falling for that one," I told him.
He smirked.
I rolled my eyes.
In the end, Damon was more screwed up than I was. So his walls were higher, thicker and more resilient to fall down. In order for them to crumble, I had to start chipping away at them, little by little.
Was that what I had been doing in the past few months? Chipping away at his ironclad walls?
And my walls? Even though I thought that they were pretty thick, they had been cracking down for a while now. My walls were new and young, they had hope of tumbling down when the right person came a long. I had hope.
So did this mean that it was all in my hands? That I would always have to be the first to say things when it came to my relationship with him? I needed signs too. Relationships are a two way street.
Damon had a very particular way of showing his emotions. He was impulsive and reckless. He was passionate and from what I've heard pretty romantic. Under all the sarcasm, killing spree's, rudeness, and egoism, he was an emotional roller coaster.
"What are you doing Damon?" I asked him. I glanced at our wet bodies that were so close together.
"I... I don't know," he answered with a frown, "I just... I need you."
I raised my hand, bringing my wrist to my mouth, I bit it, blood started to come out, drops dripping to the water. I then extended my arm to him.
"Do it," I told him, blood trickling down my arm.
He looked at me with the softest expression I had ever seen coming from his eyes. Taking my hand gently he raised it to his lips and started drinking, never taking his eyes off of mine.
My stomach was doing that contortion thing it liked to do whenever Damon did or said something sensitive/sexy/caring.
This. This was Damon being vulnerable.
This was Damon opening up.
This was Damon accepting help.
I had never experienced this before. It was different from last night. Last night he was unconscious. The time he gave me his blood to heal me, I was unconscious. This time we were both very much aware of what was happening. I had allowed him to feed from me, and this experience was completely different.
It's like we were connected.
I can't even put into words what I was feeling. Watching him feed from me. There was a thrill I couldn't quite describe, I couldn't take my eyes away from his mouth. Or my thoughts away from the pressure he used every time he sucked on my wrist. It was gentle, but at the same time a bit rough and incredibly sexy.
I was feeling weak, I don't know if it was because I hadn't fed or because of the effect his presence had on me.
My thoughts were getting cloudy. I closed my eyes, and concentrated on the sound of he made every time he swallowed. I felt light. Chills ran down my spine.
Did he just say that he needed me?
I suddenly felt... scared.
What the hell were we doing? Was I even ready for this? With him? Mr. Womanizer? Did I want this too?
I started panicking, my breath hitched and Damon grabbed my neck gently. My eyes fluttered open.
He was staring at me, and with his free hand he caressed the back of my neck in circles. He ran his hand through my hair, never taking his eyes off of me.
I got lost in them, and the anxiousness faded away.
He let go of my wrist and licked his lips. Then, with the hand he had on my neck, he pulled my face to his, He slowly grazed his lips against mine before kissing me. It started out gently. Then it turned passionate, his hands running through my hair, and down my back.
I had imagined countless times during the month of his absence how it would feel to share a kiss again.
This exceeded all my expectations.
I wasn't bawling uncontrollably, mascara running down my face. No, this time our bodies were close together, soaking wet, soapy and bare. No barriers between us. No folder with papers, or my hands holding on to my suitcase. We were not making a scene at a public place. This was us. Just him and me. Alone. In a bath tub.
I had been paralyzed at first, not knowing exactly what to do apart from sitting very still on his lap while we kissed. I was petrified of the thought of running into his friend if I moved.
Then when I decided to just enjoy what was happening I threw my arms around him and embraced him.
I had missed him.
I couldn't let go of him. I pulled him tightly towards me. This was what I wanted to do this morning when I found him sitting on those swings. This and punch him for stealing my necklace.
I ran my hands through his hair.
He slowed down and then placed small pecks on my lips, cheeks and that little nook that was between my neck and shoulder. His stubble tickled when it grazed my skin. He traced loops on my back with his fingertips.
I was out of breath.
Maybe words weren't really needed.
Words were so over rated.
I could stay like this a while longer.
Were my boobs touching his chest right now?
I closed my eyes and slowly pulled away. I opened them again and faced him.
His expression was serene. He played with the strands of hair that fell on my face. He smiled at me.
"Better?" I asked, referring to how he felt after feeding.
"I think making out in a tub beats making out at an airport," he answered.
I smacked his arm. He chuckled.
"How are you feeling?" I asked.
"Aroused," he answered honestly.
"I'm talking about your bruises you jerk," I told him, a smile escaping my lips.
He smirked and shrugged.
"Let me see," I told him, wanting to know if it had helped at all, proving his theory that my blood was the one that had helped and not the wine.
He raised an eyebrow, lowered me from his lap and stood up, arms on his waist, his... thing staring directly at me.
"DAMON!" I yelled and covered my eyes.
He chuckled.
"Well, you wanted to see," he said coyly.
"Could you just turn around?" I asked.
He chuckled.
"You are so uptight..," he told me, I heard the water swift as he turned.
I peeked through my fingers. His ass was in my face.
"Oh my God," I whispered.
"Yep, it's that great," he said.
"Could you just sit down?" I asked exasperated.
"What? You don't want me to do the catwalk? Give you my best pose?" He asked.
"Sit!" I told him.
If I were still human my face could be a million tones of red right now.
"Fine," he said, a touch of disappointment in his voice. He sat in front of me.
I examined his back.
"I know what you're doing Bella Swan," he told me.
"Examining your back?" I answered.
"No, you're taking advantage of me, when I'm weak and sick. But you know, if you want to see me naked, all you have to do is ask..."
I punched his arm.
I heard him chuckle.
My eyes went directly to the squiggly mark on his back. The purplish blotches were gone.
"They're gone," I told him, I touched the place were they used to be, "Does it hurt?"
He shook his head no.
"So you'll have to feed from me every day now until we find some solution for this curse..." I said as I traced the mark on his back.
"I don't think everyday is necessary..." he answered.
"Yes it is," I told him.
"No, it isn't," he refuted.
"You're feeding everyday and I'll make sure of it," I told him.
"You are so stubborn," he told me.
"Yeah, I wonder were I get that from..." I muttered.
He turned around.
"Bella," he took my hands and intertwined them with his, "let's… let's take this slow."
"Take it slow? And let the maggots come out again? No, I'm not doing that, it's disgusting Damon," I said while shaking my head no.
"They're not going to show up after a day, and we need to figure out some stuff before you're giving me your blood on a daily basis…" he sighed, "How did it feel?" he asked, staring at me.
"How did what feel?" I asked in return. Was he talking about me getting the maggots out, or the kiss?
"When you gave me your blood, how did that feel?" he cleared up.
I let out a sigh and spoke quickly as I remembered how I had felt, "Exhilarating, adrenaline-charged, thrilling and terrifying."
He chuckled.
"Sharing your blood with someone… someone important… is very intimate. Feelings get a little heightened and it can be complicated if certain things have not been discovered and discussed. So… let's take this slow," he told me.
"Wait…" I said, I was confused, "Is that like… like… doing it?"
He smirked.
"Like sex?" he asked raising an eyebrow.
I just stared blankly at him.
He nodded.
I closed my eyes in embarrassment.
"We'll take it slow," he said confidently.
I nodded in agreement.
"Wine?" he asked.
I immediately extended my glass to him and squirmed myself under the water. My back resting on the tub.
He chuckled again and poured the wine.
"I don't have to drink directly from you, we can set up an IV or something if you don't want to do that again," he told me.
I raised my eyes from the glass of wine and looked at him.
"I don't mind giving it to you," I told him.
He grinned.
"Okay, then… we wont do it every day…" he told me.
I nodded.
"But, if it gets bad I'll do it as much as I have to," I told him.
"Slut," he said grinning.
I threw the loofa at him.
"That really hurt," he said sarcastically.
I rolled my eyes.
"You're looking pale, I'm going to get you a blood bag," he said standing up from the tub. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist.
Before leaving he turned around.
"That lock dipped in vervain thing… nice," he said as he grabbed the doorknob.
I shrugged.
"Out of the freezer or warmed up?" he asked.
"Warm would be nice," I answered.
He nodded and made his way down stairs.
I heard his footsteps as he walked across the hallway. He was whistling.
Damon Salvatore was whistling.
He was happy.
And I had something to do with it.
I sunk in the water.
What had just happened? He had thrown so much information at me. The reason why he was away, what he was doing, what had happened to him.
He said I was important.
Or had I said that he was important because I was the one doing the blood sharing?
Blood sharing is like having sex.
So I'm not a blood virgin anymore.
He wanted to take it slow.
Damon is old fashioned when he cares. He cares right? I mean, he wouldn't do that if he didn't care about me right?
I climbed out of the tub and into the shower. I washed off quickly and got into a pair of pj's. I started combing my hair.
So… were we together now? Was that what he meant when he said taking it slow?
And what was it with my blood that healed him? How was it that my blood could somehow break a curse that a very strong and powerful witch had conjured?
"Here we go, thirty seven degrees," Damon said as he came into the room, two glasses in hand. He gave me one.
"Thanks," I said.
I took a sip from the glass, and stared at him awkwardly. We were both quiet. He sat on the bed. He was still wearing the towel around his waist.
"So..." I said, trying to break the silence.
"So..." he repeated and then pursed his lips together, raising his eyebrows, "Do we have an agreement?" he asked.
I nodded.
"Okay, so, you drink that," he said pointing to the glass, "and I'll get out of your way so that you can rest," he added and stood up from the bed.
He walked towards me and gave me a kiss on my forehead. His eyes trailed down to mine, and then they lingered on my lips while a small smirk formed on his.
"Good night Isabella," he whispered.
I was getting dizzy.
"Good night Damon," I answered.
He tugged on the cord of my pajama bottoms playfully, he chuckled and then walked away. When he was already at the doorway he turned around.
"Write in your journal," he told me.
I raised an eyebrow. Really?
"Do it," he said seriously and then walked out.
I fell on my bed immediately after I heard him make his way into his room.
How was it, that a single action like the one he had just had, playing with this stupid cord, got me all flustered?
What were we doing?
What was happening here?
Why was I feeling like this?
What was I feeling exactly?
I cared about him. Of course I cared about him. I had missed him. A lot. I liked the way I felt when I was around him. I liked who I was when I was around him. I felt comfortable.
Damon and I... our relationship, it was... it was like we were evened out. Equals, and I had never really felt that way before.
I knew Damon wasn't telling me everything, but I valued that he had told me something. Something big and important.
No one ever shared things with me before.
He treated me like a grown up. He told me things as they were. He was never walking on eggshells around me.
Sure, some times he hid things. But I think that's his way of keeping mysterious. The truth is, I like the mystery. I like putting the puzzle together. I like this thing he's got me doing where I have to write the clues down to figure out the big picture.
We were in this process together.
I took the notebook out of my bag and started writing everything about the last few days. My random sleepwalking, running to the middle of nowhere, Damon's return, the state he came back in, what I was feeling, etc, etc.
I wrote down everything I had already told Damon today, but that he insisted I write down on paper.
When I was done, I glanced over the things I had written. A few pages of notes. Were we going to look at these together?
I wondered what Damon had in mind.
I had finished my drink a while ago, I was still hungry. After grabbing a bag from downstairs and climbing back into bed, I had the hardest time trying to sleep. Sure, sleep was something I didn't really need as much anymore, but it was something that I liked doing.
I finished the bag. I turned to my side, trying to get comfortable. I flipped the pillow.
I wonder if Damon thinks it's okay to trust Jasper with the search of my ability.
How did he feel about the Cullens being here?
I turned around, my back flat on the mattress.
Maybe we should ask Sage for more wine... just in case things got bad, like last night.
How had he gotten so much wine anyways?
Did he know? Did he know about Damon's mission? Was that why he had given me the wine bottle and asked me to use it wisely?
He had to have known.
Why was Sage so damn weird?
I threw the covers away and put my arm over my eyes.
I mean, if he gave me the wine, the wine that this witch that Damon went hunting made… he must have known what Damon was up to.
Sage was kind of like Damon's mentor.
So if Damon was going on a mission as dangerous as this one, who would he go to to get prepared?
Sage. His mentor.
I was distracted from my thoughts by a tap on the window. I uncovered my eyes and glanced over to where the tapping sound was coming from.
I rolled my eyes as soon as I saw who it was.
I got out of bed and opened the window.
"Are you serious?" I said between chuckles.
Caw!
"Is this really necessary?" I asked.
Caw!
"You could have just knocked on the door," I told him.
I let out a sigh and crawled back into bed.
He twisted his head to the side.
I patted the mattress.
He flew in and before landing on the bed, shifted form.
"You missed the crow, admit it," he said, arms behind his head.
"Yeah, whatever," I answered, while fluffing my pillow.
He turned to his side, facing me.
"What's running through that head of yours Isabella?" he asked.
"Nothing…" I answered.
"You've been tossing and turning for about two hours now, you only do that when your thoughts are racing. What are you thinking?" he asked.
He knew me way too well.
"Can we call Sage tomorrow?" I asked.
He frowned.
"Why do you want to call Sage?" he asked in return.
"Well, I ran out of wine last night. Maybe he can send us another bottle? Just in case?" I told him.
He nodded.
"How come Sage has so many bottles of it?" I whispered.
Before answering he let out a sigh, "Sage is… very well connected. He knows people…"
"Did he know?" I asked a few seconds after.
Damon nodded.
"So he gave me the wine on purpose," I said.
He shrugged.
For some reason I couldn't understand I was starting to feel irritated.
"Why is he such a mystery?" I asked.
Before answering Damon exhaled, "Sage is… peculiar."
"What do you mean peculiar?" I asked.
"I think you know what I mean," he answered.
I was confused.
"Well, he's weird, and he smells different. He's not normal," I said.
He stared at me.
"Sage is a friend. That's all that counts," he told me.
I let it go. Asking about Sage was not getting me anywhere.
He took a few loose strands of hair that had fallen on my face and tucked them behind my ear.
"Sleep," he told me.
"I can't," I told him.
He switched position, his back now laying flat on the bed. He extended one of his arms and pulled me towards him. I rested my head on his chest.
We were quiet for a while.
"Damon?" I said.
"Yes Isabella?" he answered.
"I missed this," I told him.
"Hmm," he responded.
Here we go, his hmm's and mmm's.
I started playing with the fabric of his white shirt while he ran his hand over my arm gently.
I was so glad to have him here with me like this again. I remembered the last few nights, how I had been restless and couldn't sleep and when I could manage to doze off I'd find myself in some other place I had no recollection of going to.
"Damon?" I asked.
"Mmm?" he responded.
"How long did it take you to get here? You didn't have a ring…" I asked.
"A few days…" he answered.
"Do you know how many?" I asked.
"Four… maybe five…" he answered.
"So you flew only at night?" I asked.
"Mmm hmm."
I had been running to the woods in my sleep for the last week. Every day.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
"Had you been here before?" I asked.
"Yes," he answered.
"So you knew where you were flying to…" I said.
"Obviously," he replied, and stopped running his hand over my arm, resting it on my shoulder, "I was picturing that clearing with all the strength I could find within me. I wasn't sure I could make it if I didn't."
"Do you think that's why I had been running to that spot so much recently?" I asked.
"I don't know what to think," he answered.
"Okay, you make me write stuff down. I think you should write the stuff that happens to you too," I suggested.
He chuckled.
"Where's the journal?" he asked.
I raised my head from his chest and pointed to the night stand. He grabbed it and opened the pen with his mouth.
"When did the witch put the curse on you?" I asked.
"Three days before I broke out," he answered.
"Draw a timeline," I told him.
He did as I said, and drew a line, the first event was the curse. He then wrote down the day he broke out, the days he spent coming home, and the day he arrived.
"Now, what was happening to you on these days?" I asked, as I pointed to the dates.
He wrote down what he was thinking.
After he finished, I made a timeline of my own. When the feeling of danger started, and my runs to the woods, the anxiety, everything.
The timelines overlapped.
I had been feeling some of the same things he'd been experiencing.
"What does it mean?" I asked him.
"We're going to find out," he answered and put the notebook back on the night stand, "But not tonight."
I rested my head again on his chest. He started playing with my hair.
We'd been laying here like this for a while and sleep had yet to come. We were both awake. We were quiet. We had not spoken in the last hour. I had been concentrating on his very slow and quiet heartbeat.
"This used to work," he said, breaking the silence.
"What?" I asked.
"This, it normally put you to sleep, you'd be talking in your sleep after a few minutes," he told me and suddenly dropped the strand of hair he was playing with.
"I do not talk in my sleep," I said.
"What was that thing you used to chant when you went to sleep… before, when you didn't know I was the crow?" he asked.
"What thing?" I asked, confused.
"Something about not being seen… you used to repeat it over and over again…" he told me.
I remembered.
"I am invisible, they cannot see me," I whispered. I hadn't said that in a while. Not since I became a vampire.
"Huh," he said.
I raised my head from his chest and turned to look at him, "Alice," I said in realization.
His eyebrows were close together.
"Drink?" he asked.
I wasn't getting any sleep now. We might as well go out.
"Sure," I answered and quickly got out of bed, we changed into clothes and the next thing I knew, my bike was roaring to life, I was holding on to Damon's waist and we were making our way into town.
A/N:
Slow but steady.
That's my motto.
I've been plotting this for a while. TVD just got ahead of me with the blood sharing thing. *sigh* Oh well...
Reviews are better than Damon filled bubble baths...
Okay, maybe not.
:)
