"So, seriously, how long do you plan on pouting for?" Damon finally asked from his place at her window.
Elena turned her startled glance on him. "I'm not pouting," she said slowly, as though speaking to a small child. "I'm thinking."
"You're about this close to Broodsville." Damon held his pointer finger a half inch away from his thumb. "Population? One. Stefan." Softening when he saw her somber face, he sighed, turning away from the window. "I promise, everything will work out the way it's supposed to, Elena."
"What if the way it's supposed to work out sucks?" Elena sighed grumpily. She threw Damon a puzzled glance. "Are you going to stand guard at my window all night?"
He quirked his lips upward in a half smile, half grimace. "Are you inviting me to share your bed?"
She fixed him with a long, thorough stare, then got up from the bed, crossing over to him.
Damon's breath caught as she approached him, stopping when she was hovering so close he could smell the tantalizing scent of her right under his very nose. Her chin tilted upwards and for one wild second, Damon thought she was going to press her lips against his, but then her lips parted and she said, "I guess you'll need blankets."
His eyes still tracing the outline of her lips, he mumbled "hmm?" in a preoccupied tone of voice. "What?" Damon blinked down at the plump pillow she'd pushed into his arms.
"Hold on, I'm grabbing you a sleeping bag," Elena called over her shoulder as she headed to the guest closet down the hall where they kept the spare linens and sleep gear.
She's making me sleep on the floor? Damon thought incredulously, but dutifully lay down on the floor next to her bed, closest to the window, so Jenna wouldn't be able to see him if she dropped by to say goodnight to her niece. Her pillow smelled like her, he realized, inhaling deeply. He caught a whiff of Elena-ness, mixed with a citrus scent he recognized as the Escada perfume Caroline had given her.
Elena busied herself in the bathroom, unconsciously delaying the return to her bedroom by dragging out her nighttime rituals. She slowly brushed her teeth, ran her fingers through her hair, and used a face wash on her face. She knew Damon was just staying with her for the night for protection, yet she still felt a strange sense of wanting to impress him, so she rubbed lip balm across her lips to give them a rosy glow and hurriedly changed into her pajamas.
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she emerged from the bathroom. Wait. Was Damon..sniffing her pillow?
Pretending not to notice, she crossed to her bed and turned off the lamp. "Goodnight, Damon." She slid under the covers, dragging it up over her shoulders.
He watched her huddled form under the mound of blankets struggle to find a comfortable position. "Night, Elena."
They both lay awake for another half hour, neither saying anything.
Damon shifted to his side. This was by no means as luxurious as his own bed, but nor was it the most uncomfortable way he'd ever slept.
Elena pressed her cheek against the cool pillow, wishing she had someone to talk to about all this, about all the new drama in her already dramatic life. But the one person she really wanted to talk to was trapped in a tomb with his maniacal ex. Damon might understand, but being as her conflicted emotions all revolved around him, he probably wasn't the best person to consult. And Bonnie's phone kept going to voice mail, Elena thought with annoyance. She really hoped Bonnie wasn't going to do something stupid, like going after Lucy by herself in the middle of the night.
She tossed and turned for a minute in aggravation until a thought finally occurred to her. "Damon?"
A soft grunt was her reply.
"Do you snore?"
The deep baritone of his laugh sent a wave of calm washing over her. "Go to sleep, Elena."
The male vampire stood cloaked in shadows, staring dispassionately at the unconscious teenage girl on his sofa. Who knew humans were so breakable? He'd pressed his thumb against a pulse point in her throat until she'd passed out and even though he'd tried slapping her a few times across the face, she didn't awaken. Scrolling through his cell phone, he found the number he was looking for.
"Hello?"
"I have Bonnie."
"Who is this?" Lucy's voice was filled with fear and outrage. "What are you doing with her? Is she okay? Who are you?"
"A friend of Katherine's," he replied smoothly. "If you want Tituba here to survive the night, write down these instructions very carefully. Katherine was very specific on what she wanted done, and I think we both know what will happen if you betray her again."
Elena woke up to the sound of a low purring. Glancing at her alarm clock, the display read 6:52, just a few minutes before her alarm would go off for school. She quietly turned it off before the shrill beep woke Damon from his slumber.
His chest was lightly rising and falling with each breath he took. What would it be like to place my hand over it? Elena idly combed her fingers through the end of her hair, staring at him, so innocent in sleep although anything but during the day. His features had relaxed into a soft, boyish look that she had never seen on his face before. The very fact that he bothered to keep up the pretense of breathing during sleep gave her a curious sense of satisfaction. During the nights she'd spent with Stefan, his disconcerting lack of breath had been hard to get used to, when the only noise to break the deathly quiet of the night had been her own inhalations and exhalations.
"Like what you see?" he mumbled, breaking Elena out of her reverie. "I feel violated, you staring at me like that. Makes me feel cheap." He opened one bleary eye to show her he was only teasing, then snapped it shut again. "You have awful bed head, Elena."
"I do not," she replied automatically, but her hand dove to her hair anyway, smoothing it down. "I'm taking a shower. Jenna's already left for some meeting with her adviser so if you want to stay here and join us for breakfast, you can."
She hurried into the bathroom before she took the offer back, not sure what had caused her to extend his stay. To keep Jenna from getting suspicious, Jeremy would sneak over in the mornings to sleep in his own bed for a few hours and then go back to the Salvatore house after school and stay there until it was dinner time back at the Gilbert's. Evidently, Damon didn't yet trust Jeremy's blood lust enough to let him go back home just yet.
By the time she emerged at 7:35, hair washed and blow-dried straight, all evidence of his having spent the night in her room was gone, presumably tidied away back in its proper place. He probably went home, Elena thought, illogically filled with disappointment.
She entered the kitchen, surprised to see Damon at the stove, showing Jeremy how to properly flip a pancake before it turned brown.
"I burned it," Jeremy frowned, using a spatula to move the pancake off the pan onto his plate.
"It's not hard. See?" Damon crowded triumphantly, sliding a perfectly golden pancake onto an already mountainous pile. Turning, he noticed Elena and gave her a small smile. "Breakfast is served, my lady," he teased, giving her a lascivious wink.
She returned his smile without hesitation. "It smells delicious. I didn't know you could cook," she said reproachfully.
Damon waggled his brows at her. "What do you take me for, an incompetent illiterate? I followed Aunt Jemima's instructions on the back of the box. Add water, mix, pour, it's idiot proof." He gave Jeremy's hopelessly burned pancake an apologetic look. "Well, almost."
Elena hid a smile as she listened to both boys bicker good-naturedly about Jeremy's pancake, wondering if Damon realized how domesticated this morning had been. A year ago, she would have called herself crazy for sitting down to breakfast with a brutal killer, but today she was sitting down to breakfast with Damon, her friend. "Sorry we don't have any blood, but I hope good ol' OJ will tide you over," she grinned, passing him the carton.
Their fingers met when he accepted it from her grasp, and as a spark of electricity flew between them, their eyes flew to each other's. Then, with an embarrassed laugh, Elena let go and busied herself with eating, not noticing Damon's knowing smirk.
Finally, Jeremy scraped his chair back. "Elena, mind if I drive?"
"What's the time?" She glanced at the clock in the microwave. "Crap." It was almost 8; she had been enjoying herself so much that time had just flown by.
"And that's my cue to leave," Damon said, standing up and setting his plate in the sink. "Will you be coming over later?"
Elena bit her lip. "Yeah, I'll be at the boarding house after school."
"Guess I'd better…" Damon jerked his thumb towards the door. "Don't want the neighbors to see me leave in the same clothes I was in last night. They might get the wrong idea," he smirked. "Time for the walk of shame."
Elena felt the air whip around her as the presence of Damon's body departed.
"Elena? Ready?" Jeremy appeared at the top of the stairs with a book bag slung over his shoulders.
She forced a smile. "Yes."
The drive to school was more silent than normal, as Jeremy thought of the best way to approach what he wanted to say. "Did you ever read my text?" he asked finally.
Elena's eyes widened. "Oh, god, I completely forgot, Jer," she said apologetically. "I read it, but what did you mean by…I mean, what did Damon lie about? Did he do something?"
"Sort of," Jeremy said cautiously, navigating to a parking spot, cutting off some chick's pink Volkswagen.
"Kudos," Elena grinned at him as the girl stuck her middle finger out the window at Jeremy before circling the parking lot to find another space.
"Elena, Damon's in love with you."
Her first reaction was to laugh. "I'm sorry, Jeremy, but what is it with everyone saying that? He knows I'm with Stefan. Granted, I'm not 'with' Stefan right now, but Damon knows that I could never –would never– do that to his brother."
Jeremy's eyes bored into hers seriously. "Elena, he does know that. And that's why he made you forget it."
Elena knitted her eyebrows together in a frown. What was he talking about?
"I was in the bathroom that night when they rescued you from Rose and Elijah. I left my vervain bracelet on the sink while I was showering and I forgot it there, so when I went back to retrieve it…I sort of eavesdropped on everything he said."
Elena grabbed Jeremy's wrist, apprehension flooding through her. "Tell me."
In a fit of self righteous anger, she made Jeremy turn around and drive her back to the boarding house. Normally, Jeremy would have made a crack about how she deemed Damon Salvatore more important than school, but from the mutinous look on her face, he decided he should just keep quiet.
The car door slammed and Elena flew up the walkway to the door, bursting in without a knock as Jeremy sped away, relieved to get her off his hands, especially when she was in a temper.
"How could you," she hissed, dropping her bag at her feet, wishing she had the balls to throw the heavy bag at his arrogant, handsome, no, just arrogant, head.
Damon was reclined on the sofa with a drink in hand, He didn't even look up from the glass of whiskey he was nursing, used to her dropping by unannounced. "I won't even pretend to know what you're talking about."
"You. Wiped. My. Memory."
His gaze shot up to hers, stunned to find tears pooling behind her eyes. "You shouldn't remember that," he said in shock, not bothering to deny it.
"Damon! I was trusting you to never use your compulsion on me."
"And you're pissed that I made you forget something?" he asked incredulously. "Elena, I'm hot, you're hot, I could have very easily made you fall in bed with me," he smirked, retreating behind his mask of complete and total ass.
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Damon," she said insistently, walking up to stand before him. "Please."
"Please what? Are you actually telling me that if I had told you, that it would have changed anything?" He scoffed. "I know exactly how that conversation would have gone. 'Damon, I care about you but I'm in love with Stefan, don't give him another reason to be concerned about our friendship'," he said in a high, falsetto voice, mimicking hers.
Helplessly, Elena wrung her hands. "I don't know what you want me to say, Damon. But you shouldn't have just taken it back. I had the right to know."
He didn't say anything, just crossed to the other side of the room to pour himself another stiff one.
"Damon, please don't shut me out," she begged from behind him.
"And the worst part is that you actually might be in love with me, all on your own, and you can't even admit it to me." He blurred in front of her, icy eyes piercing hers intently until Elena actually felt a chill.
"Because of what I said in my sleep?" Elena's lower lip quivered.
Damon slowly lifted a hand and placed it on her cheek.
Involuntarily, Elena nuzzled her cheek against the palm of his hand. She could sense him inching towards her slowly, as though he were afraid she would bolt at any second. He poised his lips above hers, a silent question, giving her the opportunity this time to pull away. Reading the question in his eyes, Elena tilted her chin up and accepted his kiss. In comparison to the lust and desperation of all their past kisses, some given willingly, others taken, this kiss was chaste and sweet.
"I love you," he breathed against her lips. Before she could say a word, to force her lips to say an emotion she didn't feel, he spoke again. "I love you and that's why I can't be with you, Elena. Or even try. I may be a total bastard but even I know that this situation will only cause you pain. I can see how you're struggling to hold yourself together when it's just you and Stefan, so can you imagine how much more difficult it will be when it's me?"
He shook his head sadly. He had no illusions about himself. "I'm not 'take-your-boyfriend-to-prom-Damon, I'm not holding-hands-at-the-movies-Damon, and I'm definitely not going-the-animal-route-Damon." He gave her a defensive look. "This is who I am, Elena, and even if I try to fool myself by thinking I'll change for you…at the end of the day, I am who I am, and that's the person I've always been. I'm not good for you."
"So you're saying it's over before it's begun?" Elena shook her head. "You and Stefan both have a tendency to tell me that you don't want to be with me at the exact wrong time – you both think that walking away from me is the right thing to do, and it's not. I'm sorry, Damon, but you don't get to decide what's best for me." She ignored the way he bristled at her mention of Stefan, probably taking offense to the fact that she'd lumped them both in the same category.
"So what are you saying?" Damon asked carefully.
"I'm saying that…what I said to Stefan in my sleep…I can't hide from it anymore. It's out there now," Elena gestured with her hand. "I can't be in denial about this anymore. I owe it to myself and to you to see if this can ever work."
Damon pinched the bridge of his nose, one of the few traits he'd inherited from his father, attempting to alleviate the tension he felt.
"Damon, I want to spend time with you. Doing normal stuff, that doesn't involve Katherine or Klaus or you saving my life. Or when you're drunk. Nothing good happens when you're drunk," she gently reminded him, plucking the glass out of his hands and setting it on the coffee table.
"So we're dating?" Shit, he hadn't done this since...well, ever.
"Guess so."
-A/N: Let me know what you thought!
I want to focus on their relationship for a while longer before delving back into the plot, so if anyone has suggestions or requests for Delena scenes, let me know!
Thanks!