I was a few minutes early arriving to the restaurant. I had chosen a small Italian place called Bel Cibo; my parents had been good friends with the owners and I knew it would not be difficult to reserve a secluded table in the private dining area in the back. I sat in the car for a few minutes flipping down my visor mirror to check and re-check my makeup and hair. I had not ever been this nervous for a date. I was not nervous about him liking me, that was for sure; I was more nervous for some reason that he would not show up - or worse, that he would show up and we would have to talk about all of the many things I did not want to discuss tonight. After about ten minutes I decided to go inside. I texted him to tell him that I would be waiting in the restaurant as I walked through the front door. I was greeted by familiar faces and I made small talk with the hostess who showed me to my table. I ordered a water and checked my cell phone as soon as I was seated. No response.
The minutes ticked on and with each second that passed my heartbeat sped up a little more. It quickly started to feel as if there was a spot light on my table with an arrow pointing down that said "pathetic loser" or "stood up". After 15 minutes I called Damon's cell - no answer of course. My server came by to check on me for the third time and I assured him that my friend was coming, he was just running late. I'm sure he could tell by the nervous glances at my phone and the front door that this is not exactly what I believed. After 30 minutes of sitting alone my nerves turned to sheer anger and I reached behind me to put my jacket back on. Just as I bent down to retrieve my purse the front door swung open rather abruptly and Damon walked in, looking around desperately. For a second I contemplated leaving anyway - what excuse could he possibly have? But instead I sat back down, still wearing my jacket just in case.
The hostess pointed him in my direction and he walked quickly to the table. Before taking his seat he walked over to me and bent down to hug me; when I did not reciprocate he pulled away and looked into my eyes with a torn expression. He moved around to his chair and was immediately greeted by our server who asked for his drink order.
Damon looked at me briefly before answering, "Just a water, please."
His ever-present smile was missing and I began to sense that maybe he did have a good reason for his tardiness. Before I could say a word he said, "I'm so sorry, Elena. I got tied up..." his eyes shifted to the table as he spoke and I could tell this was not the entire story.
"Tied up?" I asked in a mocking tone, "Was your cell phone tied up too?"
"Battery died," he looked at me again and this time I knew he was telling the truth. "Please don't be mad at me. If it's any consolation I've had a very shitty day. Thinking about seeing you tonight was the only thing that got me through," he reached across the table for my hand and I reluctantly gave it to him. His smile finally returned and I could not resist smiling back.
"We don't have the best track record so far," I tried to lighten the mood but both of us knew that this was not entirely a joke. His smile turned into a sideways smirk and he shrugged. "Why was your day so shitty?" I asked to break the ice.
He was quiet for a minute, staring at the tablecloth again. The server returned with his water and he waited until he was out of hearing distance before responding, "I don't want to talk about it. Not tonight. I just want to be here with you," he squeezed my hand and my heart fluttered; these were the words I had wanted to hear all day.
The mood shifted slightly into an awkward silence as neither of us could think of what to say next. The only thing that we could both relate to were things we did not want to discuss, and small talk that normally occurs on a first date like What's your favorite food? seemed a little ridiculous. I half expected him to do all the talking, seeing as how being a smooth conversationalist was one of his many talents. He seemed more distant than before, however, and he just stared at the menu in silence for several minutes.
When our server finally took our orders and left with the menus he was forced to look at me again. His smile had slowly faded over the past several minutes and at this point it had disappeared completely.
"I need to ask you something," he said quietly; both of our hands were in our laps now. I nodded nervously and sipped my water. "Are you sure this is what you want?" When I did not respond right away he continued, "I mean, do you know how fucked up I really am? I've got a lot of skeletons in my closet, Elena. You don't know about all of them. What if you find out things and it pushes you away?"
I was dumbfounded; I had no idea how to respond. Why was he doing this? "What kind of things, Damon? I'm pretty sure the skeletons I do know about take up most of your closet so there can't be much room for more. You know I've gotten past what happened last summer... Why would you think I couldn't get over whatever else you've done?"
His face did not ease up at all and this worried me even more. "You're just so young," he added. I sat up a little straighter in my chair, folding my arms on the table in front of me and felt my jaw clench; he must have picked up on my frustration and he leaned forward, reaching across the table to put his hand on my arm. "That's not what I meant. I just mean I have a lot of years on you. I've done a lot of things and I'm afraid you won't be able to understand who I am. Or you won't want to..."
"Damon, stop. What's wrong with you? Are you trying to push me away?" I moved my arm away from his grasp and laid my hands back into my lap.
He was silent. I had assumed that was a rhetorical question but the fact that he actually had to think about it nearly made me stand up and leave. I suddenly felt like I was wasting my time. "I don't know what I'm trying to do," he answered honestly. I appreciated his truthfulness but I had no response. "I almost left today," he nearly whispered this part and once again his eyes fell to the table; his hand ran across the left side of his face in visible frustration.
"You what?" My eyes widened and I suddenly became scared; scared that I was going to lose him again, and it had only been a week since the last time.
"I packed all of my things. I got in the car and started driving... I made it about forty miles before I had to pull over. I can't leave you," he looked back into my eyes and he appeared to be searching for an answer. "I need to make sure you're not going to leave me, either."
This time I reached for his hand. His face relaxed and our eyes stayed connected. "I'm not going anywhere," I smiled reassuringly and he finally smiled back, easing the tension tenfold.
Damon sighed and leaned back, relaxing for the first time since he walked in the door. "This being emotional thing isn't easy for me," he smiled shyly and I felt honored to be presented with such a vulnerable side of the mysterious man before me. No matter how many times I had second-guessed my feelings for Damon, this side of him that I was sure no one else had ever seen was the only reason I kept coming back.
Our food came and we ate mostly in silence. When we finished and Damon had paid the bill he stood up to pull out my chair. I briefly imagined that this was a trick he had learned at player charm school that he must use on all of the women he had romanced in the past, but I promised myself this time he really did intend on being a gentleman. He helped me back into the coat that I had finally taken off before our meal came out and we went outside.
As if the conversation inside had not been awkward enough, standing between our cars in the parking lot was by far the strangest I had felt all night. We both knew we did not want the date to end here but we had chosen a life of secrecy together; now there were not many places we could hide from the rest of the world.
After a few uncomfortable seconds of silence Damon's eyes lit up and he took my hand. "Isn't there a fire pit in the barn?" he asked, bringing my hand to his lips and not breaking eye contact.
My stomach flipped with shock and desire but my head slowed my heartbeat. "We can't go back there, Damon. Klaus knows about it…"
I expected his smile to fade but I was pleasantly surprised when it grew even larger. He stepped closer to me and pulled my hips against his, moving his hand to circle the back of my neck. "We don't have to worry about Klaus anymore. At least not for a while," he leaned down to kiss me but I turned away instinctively, not satisfied with his answer.
"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to step backwards but his grasp would not allow me much room.
"Just trust me," he whispered, his smile still in place."Tell Jenna you're staying at Caroline's tonight."
This time I allowed my heartbeat to speed up without a reality check. I had no idea what he knew about Klaus' whereabouts but in that moment I trusted him infinitely. I wanted to run to my car and speed to the barn but I kept my composure and nodded my head, releasing a flirtatious smile of my own. He leaned down to kiss me again and this time I surrendered, remembering how amazing it felt to be so connected to him. Maybe we had nothing in common and maybe he was wrong for me, but as long as it felt this good I was not sure I would ever be able to get enough.
...
It was mid-afternoon on a Saturday, no different by the looks of it than any other weekend day; but on this day in particular, the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach had been out of control. He knew from dinnertime conversation and whispers around town that the Salvatore brothers had returned to Mystic Falls many months ago. This is when the uneasy feeling first began to grow, but ever since the day that he learned Mikaelson's boy and his crew had taken up residence at a local motel he had not been able to sleep soundly at night. Was it a coincidence that they were both back here at the same time? Surely not - not with their history. He assumed that there must be some connection between the homecoming of some of Mystic Falls' most notorious families and the murder that had occurred at the beginning of the summer. This was quickly overshadowed by the deaths in the Gilbert family and he was able to reflect upon the possibilities in peace for months. When reports started to surface that the Mikaelson clan was stirring up trouble in town and that they had begun to meddle around at the high school, the fear for his own life broadened to fear for his family. Lately he had been distant at home and at work and people were starting to question where his head was at; after all, he was supposed to be the voice of reason and everyone in town had always looked to him for answers. This time he knew that the answer they wanted would mean a trip down memory lane and he would have to dig up old skeletons that had long been buried. Their answers would come later, but the question in his own mind would not be shut out so easily.
This was not the first time he had visited the Salvatore house over the past 15 years; in fact, it was not the first time he had visited over the past 3 months. He promised himself, however, that today would be different. Today would be the day he shut out the regret once and for all; he was going to confess to the brothers and beg their forgiveness. Maybe then they would help him answer the burning question he had about Niklaus Mikaelson's intentions in Mystic Falls.
He pulled up to the curb, a familiar endeavor for him. This was always as far as he had gotten. He threw his Mercedes into park but his foot remained on the brake pedal, nerves getting the best of him as they always had. He cracked his window (another nervous habit) to be the first to hear any outside noise. He studied the house for a few minutes, noting that there were no cars in the driveway but rationalizing that perhaps they were in the garage. He stared into the curtained windows for any sign of life and was beginning to convince himself that he had lucked out and no one was home. He put the car back into drive and had his finger on the button to raise the window but stopped abruptly when he heard rocks crackling in the distance. He froze, his heart rate speeding up. When no car turned around the corner into the driveway he quickly pulled around the half-circle and turned left to get back onto the main road. It was then that he saw the black Acura pulled over on the shoulder. He saw a male in the driver's seat and the glimpse he was able to steal allowed him to witness the inquisitive and nervous expression on the driver's face. The man was young, much younger than him, but he swore that he recognized his face. He broke out into a sweat instantly and tried to act as casually as possible as he continued down the road, eyes glued to the rear view mirror to see if the car would turn and follow. He was out of view of the Acura within seconds and at last glance the car still sat on the side of the road; however, when he reached the next stop sign he saw the black hood appearing over a hill behind him and his assumption had been validated - he was being followed.
He ran through a million ideas in his head about how to lose his tail but none of them seemed feasible. He knew that being as high profile as he was in the town the boy would find him eventually. His mind was clouded with fear and rage combined and his temporary insanity told him to take matters into his own hands - send a message to the man who had undoubtedly sent this boy so that Klaus knew he was not going down without a fight. He pulled into the park he used to frequent so many years ago for morning jogs. Lately he had been too busy to get much exercising done outside of the small gym in his home between conference calls but he remembered every twist and turn of every trail here as if his last run had been just yesterday. He parked the car and walked briskly to the closest trail; he was dressed in his weekend casual attire so he knew he recognition would not be an issue. He glanced behind him as he entered the woods to confirm that the Acura was indeed in the parking lot.
His fear escalated and he reached for the knife that he had brought with him sheathed in a protective casing on the inside of his jacket. He kept his hand on the case as he walked faster and faster. The boy was behind him now, pace quickening and as he began to sprint the boy called for him to wait. The boy had blown his cover and now he wanted to fight, surely. He quickly turned from the path into the trees and kept running until the boy was out of sight. He heard his footsteps quickly approaching on the trail feet away as he hid behind the trunk of a large tree. When the boy ventured up into the woods and began to look around cautiously he knew it was time to make his move; he jumped out behind the boy and wrapped an arm around him, hand covering his mouth to prevent him from screaming. The boy instinctively kicked backwards, knocking the knife out of his free hand. He pushed the boy to the ground and turned around to pick the knife up; feeling the boy approaching him from behind he stood up quickly and elbowed the boy's face. He fell to the ground, his nose gushing with blood and the impact of his head on the hard ground knocked him out cold. He looked around frantically from the boy to the walking path and paced back and forth. He had never been so out of touch with his emotions and eventually the overwhelming urge to kill the boy took over; he had been spotted and the attention that this would bring to him and his family would surely ruin him. Not only that, but if this boy lived to tell Niklaus about their encounter there would be no denying his involvement and Klaus would surely not hesitate to get the revenge he had obviously come for. Before he could change his mind he threw himself to the ground and began to stab away at the lifeless body beneath him; tears flowed from his eyes and as the insanity fled his mind he fell backwards against a tree, clutching the bloody weapon in his hand and rocking back and forth. He began to hear footsteps and female chattering approaching after several minutes and he stood quickly, wiping the knife on some fallen leaves before returning it to the case in his pocket. He backed slowly away from the direction of the voices and then ran as fast as he could through the trees.
When he was certain he had gotten far enough ahead of the voices he slowly made his way back to the walking path, smoothing out his hair and hoping he did not look as suspicious as he felt. He strolled casually unnoticed back into the parking lot. By the time he reached his car he heard the screams; he paused in his tracks for a moment, wondering if he should react and pretend to be a hero. Remembering his current state of mind he decided against it and got back into his car. He looked around one last time to make sure no one had been watching him and pulled out of the parking lot, reciting a familiar prayer over and over in the echoing silence of his car.