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D/E

S/C

And as of right now, E/K, apparently.

A Sinner Before the Gates of Heaven

Chapter Eleven: Only Hours Ago

She is still the most exquisite creature he has ever seen in his life.

Elijah slides a hand up Katherine's smooth back and into her hair, his lips tilting as she nestles closer to his side and the hand splayed on his stomach slides over it to catch his other hand in hers, entangling their fingers.

They are laying in the living room of her house, the room only lit by a lamp in the corner that casts shadows around. Elijah wonders idly if they will every hold themselves off long enough to make it to their bedroom before they give into their need for each other.

Over a hundred years of experience tell him that it isn't likely.

It surprises him still that after a hundred years, he can still need her just as desperately as he did a hundred and sixty-four years ago when she was nothing more than a pretty human girl with a wicked smile which had faltered the moment she had seen him.

Elijah smiles a little at the memory and lifts the hand he is holding to his lips.

It causes her to stir even as he laces their fingers together again and waits for her tilt her head back to look at him.

The sleepy, satisfied half-smile on her face is a familiar to him as the wicked smile from when they first met but much more special. He is, he knows, the only one who has ever seen this smile and the only one who ever will.

"You're still awake?" Her voice is just as sleepy as her smile and Elijah kisses her hand again.

"You have yet to exhaust me, my love." He teases, his eyes dipping down to the expanse of smooth skin she has pressed against him before returning to her eyes. "You also haven't told me how you are."

It's a testament to how well he knows her that he catches the flicker of worry in her gaze. It's there for less than an instant and gone the next. He stays quiet about it as she slides up to straddle him, smiling slyly as he pulls their hands apart to stroke the long hair away from her face so he can see her properly.

"I'm fine." She says in response to his question and Elijah raises an eyebrow. "Don't do that. I'm fine, I swear."

It sometimes amuses him that she forgets their bond goes far deeper than simply tying themselves to each other. After a hundred and sixty odd years, Elijah can feel the worry that's seeping through her even as she lies to him and his expression turns serious.

"So, you've been having no dreams about him dying? No memories about what happened that night are resurfacing? You're not lying to me by telling me you're fine?"

Katherine pauses, her lips curving downward at his question and he is again reminded of the girl she had been before he'd claimed her. He had found her expression of displeasure when he had refused to dance with her that first evening endearing. It hadn't lost its allure since then.

"Something has happened, hasn't it?" Katherine's question is accusatory as she lifts herself off him and reaches for his shirt.

Elijah frowns a little at her as she covers herself with his shirt before throwing him his trousers. He had known she wouldn't be pleased with him when he told her why he had come to visit but the fear he can feel coursing through her is not what he had expected.

She is not one to fear something without good reason and as far as he knows, she has never had good reason to fear anything.

"What has you afraid, Katherine?" He asks as he pulls on his trousers and reaches for her.

She glares at him at his question, slipping away from his grasp to stand. Elijah contemplates staying on the floor and then decides he doesn't like the disadvantage it gives him.

Bond or no bond, he refuses to be the one at the disadvantage.

Katherine watches him stand and shifts a little, Elijah eyes dip down to bare legs as she shifts and forces himself to not smile at the sight of his bite on her thigh. He frowns instead, when she shifts again and he knows she's more than uncomfortable.

"Katherine, what's wrong?" He asks the question softly; careful of pushing her because he knows all too well what happens when she is not given a choice in answering a question.

She looks away from him, running a hand through the dishevelled curls the color of her descendant, and biting her bottom lip. Elijah can feel the part of him bonded to her – the animal part that does nothing but care for the welfare of his mate - demand her protection even though he doesn't know what from.

She is silent only a moment longer. "Do you remember the night you came to me for the first time?"

Elijah hears something in her voice that worries him even as he dips his head in acknowledgement of the first time he had made love to her. It had been, he remembered, quite a trick to find his way into her house and into her room. Even trickier to not claim her as his the first time he had sunk himself into her supple body.

"What of it?" He prompts when she doesn't seem willing to go on.

"You know I loved you before that, don't you?" Katherine's eyes are luminous as she asks the question and Elijah reaches for her again at it. She lets him fold his arms around her and presses close. "Elijah, I loved you before that."

"I know."

There's a feeling of dread in his stomach and Elijah wonders if it has more to do with what he thinks Katherine now knows or if it's because he is worried about his mate and the desperation in her voice as she asks him that question.

Katherine presses a kiss to his chest before looking up at him, her eyes a volatile mixture of desperation, love and anger.

"Then why didn't you tell me that night is what started that summer? Why didn't you tell me part of the reason for Damon's curse was you claiming me before, before everything?" He freezes at her questions and he knows his reaction gives her an answer she doesn't necessarily want.

She pulls herself away from him and he lets her go as she wraps her arms around herself and stares at him, betrayal now part of the volatility he can see in her eyes.

"Katherine – "

"A Bennett witch came to me after you had left. She warned me if I didn't wait someone I cared for would pay. She warned me that the person who would pay would take more than one person away from me. She warned me to stay away from you."

Elijah knows, the second she speaks, that there is nothing he can say to soothe the wound this has opened in her.

He knows too, unequivocally, that Stefan was right. Damon's days are numbered and it seems it still is his entire fault.

In the seconds before Damon kisses her, Elena knows she had begun to feel a twinge of regret for pushing it. For pushing him into doing something he was clearly trying to avoid at all costs.

She had felt a twinge of justified fear as she had registered, the second he had cornered her against the bench that, that what she was asking was more than just him assuaging the ache in her. That it was much more than simply kissing her.

Elena hadn't realized that what she was asking would have her know, without doubt, that one kiss from Damon Salvatore has ruined her for anyone else.

The knowledge sinks into her bones as his mouth presses against hers, his hand sliding up from her hips up to her waist and his words echoing in her mind even as she slides her arms around his neck and offers everything she has to give to him.

She expected him to take, to demand something from her that she isn't sure she knows how to give.

He doesn't.

Damon kisses her like she's special. Like he has all the time in the world to explore her and what she's offered him.

He kisses her, Elena thinks dizzily, like she is as perfect as he said she was.

She shudders as Damon coaxes her mouth open and takes the kiss deeper. Elena gasps against his mouth as he pulls her more tightly against him, his hands sliding to her waist and the feel of him, every single hard line of him makes her feel the simmer of heat that's always between them.

Elena feels her mouth soften under his, her body mould to the hard lines pressing against her and moans softly at the feel of him, at the feel of all of him.

Some part of her, that's not caught in the kiss that's so gentle, is startled at the feel of him. Even more startling is the idea that she is the cause of it.

Elena moves against him experimentally, her arms tightening around his neck and for a second, just a second, the kiss and the tenuous control she didn't know he had, broke.

The kiss heated instantly, his mouth grew rougher and Elena felt the simmer boil over as one of his hands slide up to cover her breast and she feels the touch arrow straight down to her core. Elena feels the whimper break through her lips when Damon pulls away for no more than a split second before his mouth comes back to hers and, this time, she feels the kiss everywhere.

It shoots straight through her and she feels liquid pool in her stomach as her legs go weak and her hand slides into his hair to cling as he nips her bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue.

Then, it changes again. Damon's mouth gentles against hers again and Elena can only moan in protest as the heat that had flared returns to a simmer and his hand slides back down to her waist and he starts stroking them up and down her waist in a repetitive motion that is so much more erotic than she ever thought it could be.

Damon pulls away slowly and Elena whimpers when he does, clutching his neck more tightly even though she can feel his hands tightening on her waist.

Elena keeps her eyes resolutely closed when she realizes that Damon doesn't seem to be about to say anything and the thought makes her tense.

Because that kiss was so much more than she expected.

No-one, she knows, will ever kiss her like that again. No-one will ever coax that response from her and no-one will ever, ever stun her with the gentle way he had kissed her.

No-one will kiss her the way that makes her heart trip and fall over itself.

It should be frightening; Elena knows. The gentleness she hadn't been expecting, the snap of control taking it to the heat between them, the mere fact that his hands on her has caused that ache to flare into something she's never felt before.

It should be frightening the way she knows without doubt that there is no-one in the world like Damon Salvatore and the way he just kissed her.

It's not frightening, though.

It's terrifying.

It's terrifying because it's more than heat, more than attraction. The trip her heart has taken in that one kiss has turned the fear of the heat between them into the terror of feeling more than she had ever thought she could.

"Elena."

Slowly, Elena lets her eyes drift open and she stops breathing when they meet his.

She can see it in his eyes. She can see what would have happened if he had acted on the instinct she provoked in him and the simmer of heat flares even as she remembers what he'd said before he had kissed her.

"I – I – "

It's hard, Elena discovers, to think of something to say when all you can think about is how terrifying it is that the heat of attraction is confusing itself with the trip your heart has taken the second he kisses you.

So she doesn't, Elena decides not to say anything and, instead, pulls his mouth back to hers needing to see if it will happen again. If the feeling of being ruined for anyone else is still there.

Her mouth had barely touched his when he was torn away from her.

Elena lets out a startled cry at the movement and for a moment, is completely disorientated. She presses back against the bench and her gaze falls to Damon, who is lifting himself up off the floor with a murderous expression on his face.

The look is so different to the way he was looking at her before; Elena lets out a nervous giggle that is drowned out by a furious shriek.

"Are you going to die?"

The question startles her and Elena finally notices the reason that Damon was pulled away from her so suddenly.

Caroline Forbes eyes are sparkling with fury as she stands between Damon and Elena and glares at him.

Elena swallows slightly as she watches Caroline, her stance one that reminds Elena of the way she used to tear someone down at school when she thought they were being too annoying.

"Caroline - "

"Are you going to die? Did you seriously think you could keep this from me?" Caroline demands and Elena bites her lip as she recognizes that tone as well.

"Yes. I did. At least, until I was dead." Damon snarls at her, his blue eyes lighting at the demand in her voice.

"That is not funny, Damon. Are you going to die or not? 'Cause if you are and you didn't tell me, I'm going to kill you. I will actually kill you."

"I'm terrified. Can't you see me shaking from fear?"

Elena is wondering what's wired wrong in her head to make her find this conversation amusing until she registers what they're talking about.

"You're going to die?"

Her quiet, shocked question stops Caroline from retorting and Damon from advancing any further on the blond.

They both turn to her and Damon frowns at the stricken look on her face.

"Elena. You're standing there." Caroline says it blankly, as if she hadn't been expecting to see her standing there.

Looking thoroughly kissed, Elena suddenly realizes. She suddenly becomes aware that her lips must be swollen from Damon's and she's still breathing heavily and she's only just becoming aware that she hasn't moved away from the bench he had pressed her against minutes ago.

"What did you mean Damon's going to die? Why? I thought you couldn't die unless you were – unless you were staked or something?" Elena asks, her eyes sliding from Caroline's face to Damon's.

He was watching her with an inscrutable expression she suddenly realizes was on his face when she first woke up and it shocks her to find that it hurts a little to see it. She has been able to see so much in his gaze since that moment in her bedroom, so much that tells her what he's thinking or feeling and she feels shut out when she can't see anything.

"Yeah, or you were cursed to die."

"Caroline."

A new voice scolds Caroline before Elena can react to what the blond just said and she glances towards the doorway and feels her knees start to shake as he appears in the room.

It's amazing, Elena thinks how normal they look now and how abnormal they looked when their fangs were descending towards a throat as their victim struggled for air.

"For Christs' Sake. What are you two even doing here?" Damon swears at both of them even as she begins to lean heavily against the bench, her eyes darting to his face frantically.

Stefan, she remembers suddenly, his brother's name is Stefan and Stefan's speaking. "I – uh – may have accidentally told Caroline that – "

"You're going to die." Caroline snarls and Damon rolls his eyes.

"Stop being dramatic. Seriously Barbie, do you or do you not have better things to do with your shrill seeking voice than come down and demand an explanation as to something my brother has told you?" Damon demands as Stefan steps closer and Elena forces herself to inch away from him.

"Don't deflect. Are you going to die?"

"Yes." Damon snaps. "I'm going to die from being smothered by ridiculous demands from you."

Elena wants to smile at Damon's words just as much as she wants to smile at the way Caroline forces herself not to stamp her foot at his words. But she can't.

She's too aware of the other vampire in the room and her hand drifts to her throat she remembers him pinning her against the cold brick wall only hours ago.

Only hours ago. Elena thinks numbly. Only hours ago, she was a normal girl walking home from the library, trying to beat curfew. Only hours ago, she had thought Damon Salvatore was nothing more than a legend the town she grew up in was terrified. Only hours ago, she had thought her best friend was dead.

Only hours ago, Damon Salvatore had never kissed her or touched her or made her ache.

Elena feels her chest tightening and her breath shortening as she thinks numbly about all the things that are too unreal to believe that have happened in only hours.

"Damon." She gasps, frantically looking at him as she forgets how to breathe.

Saying his name is enough for him to glance at her and Elena looks at him pleadingly, knowing that he will know, somehow, what to do.

"Shut up and stay here, will you?" He snaps at the two of them before he strides over to her.

Elena feels one hand slide around her waist and the other grasp her chin, pulling it up so he can search her face. Elena knows she looks panicked and she knows it's partly because of who is in the room and partly because finding her breath has become so difficult.

"It's okay. It's okay. Breathe, Elena." His voice is far from soothing and he sounds frustrated even as his hand starts stroking up and down her waist the way it had before. "One breath after the other. Just in and out."

Elena closes her eyes and tries to focus on the rhythmic stroking of his hand. For a second, she thinks that it's going to work. She thinks that maybe she'll be okay and then she remembers what Caroline had said when she'd torn Damon away from her.

Opening her eyes, Elena meets his solemn gaze and feels the panic rise all over again at the thought of him dying.

"Are you going to die?"

Elena feels the panic start choking her when Damon's eyes darken and his mouth firms. She knows, just from that, that the answer isn't 'no'.

A/N: Okay, so I learned two things when writing this chapter. One, it's incredibly hard to do when you're up to your ears in university assignments on King Lear, ethics and World War One and two, it's very intimidating writing a D/E make out scene after the incredible one in 3x19 because honestly? How is anyone ever going to top that? So, I suppose I got a little writer-shy when I sat down to write this. Hence why its probably not the best I could do but I feel like I owed everyone a chapter because, well, I'm not going to keep everyone waiting for another six months. Anyway, let me know what you think! I think we got another piece of the puzzle in this chapter! I hope you enjoyed!