Whew, guys! These last couple of chapters have been tough to write, so thank you for your encouragement. It keeps me going. There will be no new chapter tomorrow (Thursday) so I can have a little break and we can all enjoy the new episode, but I'll be back on Friday. Please enjoy!
"Didn't we decide this was creepy?" Elena asked. She lay in bed, eyes closed, but sleep hadn't found her last night. Maybe she'd dozed for a while, falling into fitful dreams that vanished the moment she awoke, but most of the night was spent staring at the ceiling, replaying the scenes of the day over and over again. The soft swoosh of the window opening and the light tread of feet hitting the floor alerted her to a visitor.
"It's okay because you're awake. Had you actually been asleep, it would have been creepy," Damon said.
"Oh, good. Glad we dodged that bullet." Elena finally opened her eyes. Damon hovered near the window as if unsure he was welcome, his figure outlined by the dawn.
Neither spoke for an eternity. They simply watched each other like wary adversaries, both too proud to make the first move.
"Damon," Elena started. "I- Oh, get over here. I'm not going to bite you." She sat up, scooting over to give him room on the bed next to her. He hesitated only a moment before joining her, perching awkwardly on the edge of the bed instead of reclining like he normally did. Resolutely, she turned his face towards her, fingers warm against his cool cheek. "I said a lot of things yesterday. Some of them...were kinda low blows. But the one thing you should listen to, the one thing you should believe, is that I love you."
Slowly, his eyes rose to meet hers. "I know that. I think. I mean, I do know it. Intellectually. But sometimes what I know and what I feel don't always line up." He sighed. "You have to understand, Elena: Stefan always got everything I ever wanted. Didn't matter if it was toys or friends or women, if I really wanted it, Stefan got it. And let's not even get into my textbook daddy issues." Damon stroked the back of her hand tentatively. "So it's...an adjustment for me to realize that for once, someone chose me. " He swallowed hard. "And I'm scared, Elena. So scared that if Stefan ever snaps out of it and starts playing the golden boy, that you'll run right back to him." His face was resigned to the inevitability of Stefan's next victory.
Elena's first inclination was to rush to reassure him, to tell him that she loved him now, would always love him no matter what happened. That's how she felt sitting with him at this very moment, but she was too much of a realist to think nothing would ever change. If Stefan did wake up tomorrow, see the error of his ways and beg for her forgiveness, did she really know what she'd do?
But, the way she felt with Damon was so different from anything she'd experienced with his little brother. In a way, she thought it was a more grown-up kind of love, a love tinged with darkness but worth fighting for anyway. But she couldn't discount what she'd felt for Stefan. That had been real, too.
"I can't lie, Damon. I love Stefan. If all of this hadn't happened, if Klaus hadn't taken him, I'd probably still be with him." Damon's eyes were full of quiet acceptance: he was expecting the ax to fall, for her to tell him that he was just something to do until Stefan came to his senses. She hastened to continue.
"But you can't compare the two of you. Stefan was my first real love, and he'll always be that. But something about being with him wasn't real, Damon. When I'm with you, I don't have to hide. I can just be who I am, even when I don't like who I am very much." She smiled. "I love you because you don't put me on a pedestal. Because you can make me laugh. Because there's some darkness in me that sees the same in you. And if I had to make a choice between puppy love and whatever this is? Damon, I choose this. As much as it hurts sometimes, I choose us."
Surprise flared, and then faded into something softer, the barest tips of his fingers brushing her cheek. "God, I love you, even though I don't deserve you."
"Not really your call, Damon," she said, her hand capturing his. "The three of us will always love each other, and that will mean things will always be hard. But will you at least give me a chance to explain next time, before you run off and get plastered?"
He gave a sheepish little grimace. "Not my finest hour. None of it was, from start to finish. I was an idiot to do it with you in the house. I thought I was prepared—I knew he'd say those things. I'd played it all out in my head, exactly how it would go." He paused. "The version in my head had less kicking, though. I'm sorry you had to see that."
"But not sorry you did it," Elena noted dryly.
"I wasn't going to kill him, Elena," he said, as if mildly offended by the idea. "I didn't break out the flamethrower or anything. What I did to him...that's like a handshake for vampires," he smirked, scooping her up and settling her down in his lap facing him, feet splayed on either side of his hips. "There wasn't even any staking."
Elena started to rise to the bait, but broke off, shaking her head. "I'm going to let that stupid comment go for right now, and admit that I may have been overly dramatic in thinking you'd kill him. Just a little."
He flashed one of those rare smiles that transformed his whole face into a vision of innocent happiness. "Look at that. Both of us admitting we're wrong? Satan must be ice skating as we speak." He leaned in to kiss her, but stopped mere inches from her lips. "Say it again," he breathed. "Tell me you love me."
"I love you, Damon Salvatore." She kissed him, softly and sweetly. "Believe it."
"I'm starting to," he murmured, diving in to kiss her again in a way that was neither sweet nor gentle, but recalled their kiss on the porch, when all thought dissolved and everything fell away except his lips on hers, his tongue probing, his hands under her shirt, painting bolts of electricity across her skin.
His lips broke away from hers, tracing kisses down her neck, along her collar bone. He was starting to tug her shirt upwards when there was a gentle knock on the door. The pair froze.
"Elena? I know it's none of my business, but I heard you come in last night," Alaric said awkwardly from the other side of the door. He'd heard her crying, he meant. She hadn't exactly been stealthy about it. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay?"
Elena was struggling to suppress her giggles. Damon was staring at the door with such fury, she was certain it would burst into flames. Poor Ric. He had no idea what he'd just done. "Ric, yeah," she called a little breathlessly. "That's really nice of you, but everything's fine. I'll be down in a minute, okay? I'll catch you up."
"Yeah, okay." Footsteps retreated down the stairs. Elena rolled off of Damon, unable to keep her laughter under wraps any longer.
"Your face," she gasped.
"Ha. Ha. Hilarious," Damon deadpanned. He loomed over her for a moment, then lowered his head, pressing his lips to the bare skin just above the waistband of her skimpy sleep shorts. Her flesh leapt under his touch, her stomach tightening with anticipation. "Just you wait. You'll get yours." His words were a promise; his eyes were a threat. In a flash, he was standing, rearranging his clothing. "Go ahead. I'll be at the door in a minute. Wouldn't want to miss this family bonding moment." He spirited away out the window.
Watching the curtains blow in the breeze behind him, Elena couldn't wait for him to make good on the threat.
