Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Diaries, however consider this story mine. Any dialogues not canon from the show as well as any descriptive sentences are the end result of over twenty years of writing. I have poured my heart and soul into every beautiful paragraph, every perfect sentence, every hot and/or romantic scene, and every funny one-liner. To copy this work or any other and claim as one's own, in whole or in part is a criminal offence punishable by ostracism, harassment by my loyal readers, and possibly even dismissal by the MODs. It's not worth it; don't be a thief :)

Chapter 12: Dinner Pt. 1

Elena carefully studied her appearance in the vanity mirror, running her hands over the skirt of her dress to smooth out any wrinkles. She didn't know why she was suddenly so anxious; it wasn't like it was the first time they'd ever had dinner together. He'd come over to her house (often uninvited) several times; he'd even been the one doing the cooking, since Elena's famous recipe was putting food from The Mystic Grill into fancy dishes. Still, it was the first dinner they'd had since she'd given in to her feelings, and she couldn't help but feel that this one was special. She glanced over her reflection for the fifth time in ten minutes, gently twirling one of her curled strands with a fingertip. What if she'd been wrong about the hair? Katherine's was curly, after all. Perhaps she should have left it straight? But then she had worn it exactly like this for Miss Mystic, and he had looked at her in such awe, as if he was seeing her for the first time. She'd felt like they were the only two people in the room as she met his gaze and he'd taken her hand in his to escort her outside for their dance. She smiled at the memory, her stomach fluttering with nervous excitement as she realized that Damon was waiting for her. She almost expected him to call out to her from their room and make some wise-ass comment about being fashionably late or something.

As she opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom, she frowned in confusion; he wasn't there. It was then that she noticed the small trail of red rose petals leading to the bed, and the single red rose strategically placed over a folded white sheet of paper. Elena smiled softly as she picked it up and placed the rose into the vase on the nightstand, filled with the rest of the flowers Damon had picked up for her while she was in the shower. She'd had her suspicions before that he was a closet romantic, but having him hand her a single rose at the Lockwood Manor was just a small token of affection in comparison to this. This was undeniable proof that she was more than just a plaything or a way to piss off Stefan; Damon Salvatore loved her, and though he hadn't said it, actions definitely spoke louder than words. She unfolded the note and a soft blush rose to her cheeks.

Meet me in the lobby. Take the stairs.

Her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest as she realized the significance of him wanting her to take the stairs. She grabbed her blue wrap and silver clutch off the chair, checking her hair and makeup on last time in the full-length mirror before slipping into the matching satin heels and making her way to the door. She could barely contain her excitement, almost running to the stairs before she remembered that running in high heels wasn't the greatest idea. She forced herself to walk at a normal pace, making her way down the corridor and finally arriving at the staircase leading into the lobby. It wasn't nearly as grand as the one at the Lockwood Manor, but Elena hardly noticed such petty details when she locked eyes with the handsome man waiting for her down below. He was breathtaking, wearing almost the exact suit he'd worn that day. Only his tie was different; a dark royal blue that complemented her dress and brought out the color in his eyes. Somehow she resisted the urge to ogle him, knowing that it would only feed his already oversized ego. She smiled warmly as she made her way down the stairs, allowing him to take her hand the second she got to the bottom step. His eyes met hers, glittering with that same emotion she'd seen in them ever since she'd let her guard down around him and allowed him a glimpse of her true feelings. Her breath caught in her throat when he lifted her hand to his lips, brushing over it tenderly in a chaste kiss.

"May I escort you to dinner, Miss Gilbert?" Damon asked, sounding like a perfect 19th-century gentleman; only the mischievous light in his eyes and the trace of his usual cocky grin gave him away, but Elena had the sneaking suspicion that he'd always been like that, even when he was human.

Deciding to play along, at least for the moment, Elena smiled demurely at him and attempted a curtsey; not an easy task while wearing three-inch heels. "I would be honored, Mr. Salvatore," she replied in an airy voice.

Damon attempted to hide his amusement, but Elena caught the look in his eyes. "What?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Nothing," he said. "I was just remembering something."

Elena eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he had been thinking about his past; or more accurately, his past with Katherine. "Did I sound like her just now?" she asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.

Damon furrowed his brow in confusion. "Sound like who?" he asked, his mind on a completely different topic entirely.

"Katherine," Elena said, trying to sound indifferent but failing horribly. She couldn't hide the jealousy from her voice.

He frowned. "You need to stop that," he told her seriously, grasping her hand firmly in his as he pulled her closer.

"Stop what?" she asked.

"Why do you always assume that I'm thinking about Katherine when I look at you?" he asked, spitting the name of his ex lover out as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Elena shrugged. "Maybe because we're practically twins and you two have a history?"

"Stefan had a history with her too," Damon pointed out. "Do you think he thought of her when he was with you?"

She immediately darted her eyes away from him, looking toward the door, the front desk, anywhere but at him; Damon had his answer, as well as another reason to kick Stefan's ass the next time he saw him. He wasn't about to pour anymore salt into the wound, however. His hand moved up to touch her cheek, turning her head back to look at him. She knew he wasn't compelling her, regardless of the fact that she wasn't wearing her necklace anymore. Still, he had her complete attention as he spoke. "I want you to listen to me very carefully, Elena." His eyes practically burned into hers, as if he was trying to sear the message into her brain "You're not her. You'll never be her, and I don't want you to be. She's a selfish, spoiled, manipulative bitch incapable of loving anyone but herself."

Elena had never wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him senseless as much as she did at that moment. He'd said everything with such conviction; whenever Stefan had made speeches like that the words had sounded so hollow, but Damon made her believe them. It was just more evidence that she'd been with the wrong brother from the very beginning.

"And for the record," he added, wanting to make sure there was no more doubt in her mind as to who he really wanted, "I wasn't thinking about her just now; I was thinking about you in the Founder's Day dress and how much more fun you would have been to escort to all those boring social functions when I was human. The girls I was expected to entertain back then certainly didn't have your fire, or your passion." His eyes raked over her appreciatively; his gaze lingering on her chest and the ample cleavage that the dress created. He licked his lips, the cocky grin back on his face. "Not to mention that none of those girls would have allowed me to do half the scandalous things I do to you,"

"And what makes you think I would have been any different?" she asked, annoyed that he would be so presumptuous.

"Because you can't resist me," he said confidently.

"Don't be so sure about that," Elena replied, challenging him with her eyes.

"Oh no?" Damon asked. Without warning he suddenly slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. She squealed in protest, pressing her hands against his chest in an attempt to push him away.

"Damon, we're in public!" she hissed.

"We were also in public earlier today in that dressing room," he reminded her. Before she could stop him his hand slipped under her skirt to tickle the inside of her thigh. She gasped, her legs almost giving out when he zeroed in on her most sensitive spot. "Why Miss Elena, it appears you have forgotten something," he whispered huskily in her ear, pretending to be scandalized even as he continued to brush his fingertips over her bare skin.

"Only because someone happened to steal them while I was in the shower," she countered, glaring accusingly at him.

Damon grinned, slipping his index finger teasingly between her legs. "I decided you wouldn't need them tonight," he purred seductively. Just as she was starting to give in to his touch, he pulled his hand away. "Your resistance to my charms is delicious," he said, enjoying his small victory by licking his fingers clean and deliberately looking at her with a wicked grin.

Elena rolled her eyes and smacked him playfully; realizing that he'd deliberately seduced her to prove a point. "You're such an ass."

Damon smirked. "Yeah, but I'm a sexy ass," he teased.

"Are we going to dinner or did I get all dressed up for nothing?"

Damon's eyes immediately fell upon her chest again, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Well I wouldn't say it was for nothing," he replied, wiggling his eyebrows at her suggestively. "You do look good enough to eat right now…and I'm not talking about your blood."

"Damon," she said warningly. While his idea definitely had a certain appeal, she was starving at the moment; one could not live on sex alone, unfortunately.

"I'm just teasing you, Elena," he said, linking his arm with hers. "I'm not going to let perfectly good reservations go to waste."

She eyed him suspiciously, "Just where exactly are you taking me that we'd require reservations?" she asked him, feeling uneasy again. It wasn't that she didn't like Damon spending what had to be a lot of money on her, she just wasn't used to it. She'd always paid for herself on dates with Matt, and though Stefan often paid for her, they rarely went anywhere other than Mystic Grill or various parties and town events.

"It's a surprise," he said simply, leading her toward the doors of the hotel and out into the cool evening air.

Author's Note: Okay, I know I haven't updated in forever, but for some reason I haven't been able to get into writing the latest chapters of this story and Living With Sin. That doesn't mean I haven't been writing though…

If you're on my LiveJournal or Facebook, you likely already know this, but I've been posting various scenes for future chapters on my LJ. They are only accessible to mutual friends (meaning you add me, and I add you back) but it's seriously worth it to get an account if you don't mind spoilers. So if you're interested, my LJ username is Drkprncss17. Just add your name to the "Who Wants to be Spoiled?" thread or PM me letting me know you would like to be part of that special group and be able to read the various scenes I will be posting from time to time. And remember, I love to hear your thoughts on my work so feel free to leave comments and suggestions. They're like food for my muse, and when Musie is fed, she's willing to work ;)

Hope to see you there!