Back to Elena's POV, just in case I didn't explain it enough this is the first of two (Violent) mason encounters, the other will come at a later date. This first one, because of it she breaks up with him and gets a restraining order, the next encounter will be in a few chapters and is the worst part of the story in my opinion. I know it's not a joyous occasion… but I promise there are some solid Damon and Elena bonding moments in this chapter. Let me know how you are liking/disliking/ hopefully loving this story! Thanks as always! PLEASE REVIEW
Emily
I remember our first kiss; he was taking me back to my car after we saw a movie, it was our third date and things were going really well. "You're a pathetic piece of shit." He screams as I cower under him, still on the floor from when he hit me. His hand intertwines with mine and I smile and look up at him. His smile goes all the way up to his eyes. "So what did you think?" he asked. I shrugged; it probably wasn't the best movie I had ever seen but I still had a lot of fun with him. "Get up. How long have you been sleeping with him you dirty whore?" he barks angrily. I pull my hand from his momentarily as I dig through my bag and pull out my car keys, it chirps open and I stop at the driver's side. "Thanks for tonight, I needed some time to just have fun." I said and he smiled. He leans in slowly and I feel my eyelids flutter closed. His lips assault mine passionately and I reciprocate more gently. I remember thinking that I would be telling our kids that story one day, about our first kiss. Now it was nothing but a pipe dream.
My body was curled into a ball, aching everywhere. Every kick, slap and punch reverberated in my seemingly hollow body. I would have thought my heart would have stopped beating by now but I hear the thunderous pumping in my ears. I couldn't move or even begin to process what had happened. An hour ago I was sitting in the Mystic Falls grill holding hands with my boyfriend. An hour ago I ordered a drink and smiled at the bartender. Forty five minutes ago, Mason dragged me out into the parking lot a furious mess; I had never seen him so angry. A half hour ago, he was screaming at me in my empty house, throwing glass. Fifteen minutes ago, he scratched my face using a piece of shattered glass. Five minutes ago, he broke my heart. How much an hour can change? A mere sixty minutes, I didn't understand until now the significance an hour can have. Only sixty seconds in a minute. 3,600 seconds in an hour. I think idly as I stare at the bottom of his work boots which remain planted on the floor. My face layed against the tiled kitchen floor, the cold was the only reminder that this was reality and not some harsh nightmare my brain conjured up. I never thought before how precious a second was, how valuable a minute was and how someone's fate could be changed by an hour. My legs don't move, I don't get up and run for my life like I know I should. My teeth stay clenched and don't scream for help like I'm praying they would. My eyes stay trained to the floor, I count the seconds of silence. I get to thirty six seconds when his boots move towards me, squeaking the floorboards. I feel a paradigm shift as I watch his two shoes walk closer to me, leaving behind the memories. The love, appreciation and admiration, he chose to walk away from it. Instead, choosing the darkest of paths, walking with open arms into a world of pain, with me at his feet.
"Are you deaf as well as dumb bitch? Get up Elena or so help me god, I will…" He trails off, probably thinking of some brutal punishment. Sensation rushes back into my body as well as coherent thought. Like a newborn baby deer, I stand up trying to keep my legs from buckling from underneath me.
"What are you going to do that you haven't already done?" My voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. I am not weak. I will not let you affect me. I will not give him the power. My voice grows louder as I shout at him. "You have taken everything I have Mason. I'm going to tell you what you WILL do. YOU WILL GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE! YOU WILL STAY THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE AND YOU WILL BURN IN HELL!" I scream, emptying my lungs and drawing in a ragged breath. I feel the burning tears I have managed to keep at bay so well until this point, seep from my eyes. These aren't tears of sadness or pity, or anything to be ashamed of. These are tears of fury, fueling the fire. His dark expression contorts as I put space between us slowly. I eye the knife block on the kitchen island on the other side and I mentally try to figure out how many steps it would take to get there. He stamps toward me and I hope for the best as I make a lunge for the knife block that is sitting atop the island. I pull the largest handle out and hold up what looks to be a butcher's knife. He takes a step back and raises his hands, his murderous expression changes to one of pain.
"Why are you doing this Elena?" he asks with a hurt expression. My brain is swirling with confusion at the turn of events. He's asking me why I am doing this to him. I know I am not crazy, this happened. He is the crazy one. I touch a hand to my hairline and prove that it's real as I pull back my crimson covered hand, from where he slashed me with a shard of glass.
"MASON GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" I say as I pull my shattered cell phone from my back pocket with one hand, concealing it from view and call 911.
"Go ahead. Leave me Lena. Nobody is ever going to want a worthless piece of shit like you. You are nothing without me." He screams as he storms out the back door, slamming it with such force that it breaks the window pane. I stutter into the phone as the responder answers the call, my hearing fades and it's just me talking. I think I'm saying my name and address but I'm losing coherency. The last thing I think as I watch him walk to his car is I WILL see you in court. I drop the butcher knife to the floor and it clangors loudly through the empty house. I lean against the countertop and tumble into a heap on the floor. I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around myself until I hear the sirens coming down my block.
I thrash around my bed and pull the covers above my eyes. I can still feel the sting of the cut on my forehead and the bite of his hands on my skin. Thank god my face was down in the pillow to muffle my screams. I would have woken up the entire house. Just a dream, you've safe, he's gone, I repeat the mantra until I have calmed down substantially. I walk to the bathroom and flick on the light. My eyes burn from the change but soon refocus. I look like hell. My recent dream has left a slight sheen of sweat on my body and I look sickly pale. I pulled a clean washcloth from the drawer and put it under the stream of water and let it wash away the tension. I dropped the washcloth and looked at the mess staring back at me. My face looked grim and fragile, my expression reflected the past years of pain, and I felt like my mouth was set in a permanent grimace. I ran my fingers along the scar just below my hairline, it was the only evidence you could see of foul play. The rest of it was concealed under my clothing.
I wish this shit was a dream. My stomach growls and I chuckle without humor. I need something to eat, talk about a midnight snack. It's almost one am. I shut off the light and walk to the door quietly, trying not to wake anyone up. I silently creep down the dark hallway and creak down the old wooden stairs. There is a soft light coming from the kitchen and I think someone must have left the light on. I quietly pad into the kitchen and jump when I hear something close. I snap my head around to see a body rustling through the freezer side of the refrigerator and restart my heart.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph." I say breathlessly. The door is pulled back a bit and I see that it is Damon who is rummaging through the fridge. He is wearing a tight t-shirt and the flat planes of his chest are mesmerizing, the man was the epitome of sex on legs.
"You can call me Damon. That gets a little wordy for me." He said as he closed the freezer. He carried with him a container of ice cream. I feel my face stretch into a smile; ice cream was such a normal thing to eat for someone so abnormal.
"So what brings you to the Salvatore kitchen this early? Were you drinking, smoking?" He gasps." Sneaking out?"
"No." I replied. "More like planning on eating my feelings."
He nods his head and grabs two spoons from a drawer and plops down on the stool next to me. His black hair is unruly and sticking up straight in some areas. He still managed to look stunning. He holds out the spoon to me and I take a scoop of the mystery ice cream, looks like its vanilla. I put it in my mouth and moan in appreciation. Vanilla gelato, I think I have died and gone to heaven. Damon tenses at my side but relaxes again and spoons himself some more.
"So what's keeping you awake? Monsters under your bed?" He asks as his elbow lightly jabs my ribs. I grimace and a hiss of a breath escapes between my teeth.
"Shit sorry." He said sympathetically.
"No it's okay; my ribs are still healing from an injury." I said, keeping it as vague as possible.
I was grateful when he didn't peruse the subject any farther. He seems to have a pretty good track record of not talking about my uncomfortable subjects, which I am very grateful for.
"But to answer your question, you are pretty close. I had a nightmare." He nods his head in understanding and says no sarcastic comments which a shock me, maybe he ran out of them.
"What? No sarcasm? No snarky comments? That's a first." I said appreciatively and he smiled that real smile, the beautiful one.
"Maybe because I get them myself time to time."
I feel my eyebrows raise and dig into the gelato with my spoon and place it in my mouth. If he wants to tell me he will do it on his own, without pressure from me.
"I know. The fearless hero with godly good looks and charm gets nightmares? I know, it's a shock to myself." He says smirking and I smile slightly.
"They aren't too often but they are not fun all the same. I always get the same one. When my mom died, she was giving birth to Stefan. I was the last person she spoke to. My dad has always hated me for it." He said sadly, but then a look of indifference replaced his frown. There it is again, that defense mechanism he has. Anything that shows too much emotion is covered by a smirk and sarcastic remarks. It's weird how similar we are in some senses, I do practically the same thing but with a smile and a reassurance that I am fine. He knows what it was like to lose someone he loved it. If he opened up to me I could do the same to him.
"I'm sorry. You lost someone you loved. You shouldn't be blamed for something you had no control over." I said as he scrunched his eyebrows up. He looked confused, I don't know why. He didn't answer so I figured I would return the favor.
"Mine are almost every night. I've had a lot of trauma in my life so there is a pretty good base for night terrors." I take a deep breath and try to talk my brain into saying the things that would rip my vulnerable heart to shreds. "Mostly they are about my parents and my ex." I choke out. My body shakes and I uncomfortably shift in my seat. I would talk about my parents but I wasn't ready to tell anyone about Mason.
Damon POV:
Her thin body is hunched over like she is nursing some wound that is invisible to me. She looks so young right now, in her small pj top and bottom, her hair up in a bun and her face bare. Like a scared small child, she is hugging her knees to her chest. I've been in that position before, and I know it's no use pushing her.
"If you want to talk, I can listen." I said leaving it open ended so she can decide. Her huge brown eyes darted back to mine and seemed empty. Her eyes were the only way I had been able to interpret her emotions. They were like mirrors into her mind, reflecting everything. Now they told me what I already knew, she was in pain.
"I lost my parents almost five years ago in a car accident." She says shakily, repressing emotion. "I had skipped out on family night to go get drunk at some high school party. I got into a fight with a boyfriend of mine and called my parents to pick me up. When I got in the car, they were fine with it. They had always let me make my own decisions and that night I suffered the consequences." She stopped and took a deep breath. I could tell opening up was hard for her. "It started to rain and we went over a bridge we had gone over thousands of times, the car hydroplaned and we drove off into the water." She gasps in a breath to calm herself down. I hesitantly put my arms out and put my hands on her small shoulders in a gesture meant to comfort her, but it didn't seem like the correct gesture. I don't know, I'm new at this kind of shit. Her skin was soft and she was so frail and broken looking as she glanced up to me from under her dark lashes.
"Elena, it's okay you don't have to do this." I say softly. Why did I have to bring this up? Why couldn't I have just been content sitting here in her company talking about something else? Why did I have to know everything? Because you're a dick, I think.
"No." she shakes her head. "I have pretended for too long that everything is okay and is better if I don't say it. I can't do that anymore!" she says as her eyes fill with tears. The heart I didn't know I had, aches. She continues, "The car kept filling with water and my mom was crying. The doors wouldn't open, and the water was so cold." Her eyes were staring somewhere far off, reliving the hysteria.
"They both held my hand until they ran out of air. I remember their hands slipping from mine when they died. And I was just by myself. And I survived! Someone pulled me out of the water! Why did I survive? Why didn't they live? They were so much better than me! I deserved to die not them!" She cries as the tears stream down her face and she sobs loudly. She was spiraling violently. Someone so beautiful and kind should never be so sad.
"Elena!" I say and she continues. "Elena!" I say louder and my hands once again find her body. She stills and looks up at me.
"Hey." I say as my hands move to cup her face. They fit perfectly, her eyes are downcast. "It is okay, it's over." She sniffles and throws herself into my arms. I am momentarily stunned but I follow my instincts and wrap my arms around her. I push back the chair and stand up and hold her as she sobs against my chest. I have never hugged a woman other than my mother all those years ago. I had done every sexual act in the book, but shied away from affection or anything I deemed as affectionate. I never let anyone get close enough to do that. Hugging for me was alien and took me by surprise. And having Elena tucked under my arm made me feel, confused and rethinking my opposition to the idea as I pulled her tighter to me.
"The tears are fine, just don't wipe your snot on my shirt. It's John Vervatos." I say quietly trying to lighten the mood. She chuckles beneath me but stays where she is. Her small body warms mine and she clutches onto me for dear life. This is the second time in the range of two weeks that she has cried in my presence. I have been around crying women before and just sat or walked away awkwardly and if I am being honest, I may have been the reason for said crying. I had never felt compelled to reassure and comfort someone until Elena. After a few minutes, she quieted and I pull back and look at her. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes red as a few stray tears ran down her cheek, how was it possible for someone to be so perfect when they were crying?
"I'm sorry; I don't even know what to say I am so mortified." She stutters. I feel my lips pull into an unconscious smile, and my hand unintentionally rises to her face again. I wipe away a few stray tears with the pad of my thumb. My fingers trail to her mouth and swipes over her full lips. I desperately want to kiss her, just help her forget for one night all the shit that she is knee deep in. She stops speaking and her eyes widen, it looks like she wants me to do it. Like she wants me to give in. You can't I think. I draw my hand back to my side and take a breath. I didn't realize that I had leaned in and craned my neck down to her. I straighten up run a hand through my hair. I can't do that to her, I am incapable of the love and support she needs. I can't break her anymore then she already is broken, she isn't one of the trashy girls you can pick up at the club, fuck and dump. She is a girl some great guy out there is going to want to take home to meet his parents, will get married to her and make a lot of beautiful babies with. Not sleep with her once and have to explain to her that as perfect as she is that I am not capable of love and affection. And as much as I want to press my lips to her full pink ones in that moment, for her sake and my own, I don't. Surely, the sting of rejection is less than the harsh bite that I would give her. She turns her face away from mine and wipes her eyes on the back of her arm, she is just emotional and vulnerable, and she doesn't want me. I can't tell if she is disappointed or not because she turns away, and for some reason I want to know.
"Anytime you need anything Elena, I'm right across the hallway. Okay?" I say. She looks back up to me with her mouth pressed in a straight line. She nods and I turn back to the counter where the now melting gelato sits. I pick up the two spoons and put them in the dishwasher. I walk around the island to the freezer and put it back in its place.
"Damon?" Elena's hoarse voice calls softly. I walk towards her.
"Yea?" I ask.
"Thank you. You have literally been my tissue box twice since I have been here. And I haven't been the kindest to you, I have definitely misjudged you. You need to give yourself more credit; you aren't as bad as you think you are. Really, thank you. And I'm sorry you had to see all of that." She says as a light blush covered her cheeks. She was strong, and didn't like showing weakness. She misjudged me? So what does that mean? Does she think I am good?
"It's okay Elena; there is no need to apologize. You were dealt a shit hand, but never think that you don't deserve to be here. I'm sure your parents would be proud to see how their daughter grew up." I said truthfully, I don't see how parents couldn't be proud of the amazing woman in front of me, which makes me think of Giuseppe and how he barely even talks to me. She walks closer to me and stands on her tippy toes and places her hands on my shoulders. Before I process what she is doing, she pecks my cheek where my stubble is growing in, it tickles my face. She pulls back and lets go of my shoulders leaving me stunned. "Good night." She whispers and retreats to the stairway. I miss the heat of her skin and as she leaves, the house is quiet once more, and I am left breathless.