Something Worth Talking About
"How do you talk to boys?"
"Just say whatever comes into your head."
"Supposing nothing ever comes into my head?'"
Picnic (1955)
...
"Mmm..." I moan in appreciation because my hair is being stroked with the softest pressure. Slowly my eyes open and the first thing I realize is that I'm being held by my boyfriend. My head is resting on his hard, toned muscled chest and his right arm is loosely curled around me, his large hand lazily covering up my hip bone. No wonder I'm so comfortable. He really is much better than a teddy bear, I smirk musing.
My eyes squint at the blaring light. It's choking. It's day out. The sun is out. Damon isn't looking down at me. He's daydreaming with an expression on his face that isn't typical of his nature (the sweet nor the naughty side). I attempt to sit up in his arms, but gasp in pain as my head throbs, serving as an unpleasant reminder of what occurred last night. Gee golly.
Damon is startled apparently as he automatically pulls me back into his embrace.
"You okay?" he asks without actually giving away his mood.
"Yeah, yeah, fine, fine," I mumble, my hand is firmly grasping my head as if it will make the pain go away. I should know by now that nothing's going to help.
"Sure ya are," Damon replies sarcastically, sounding more like the boyfriend that I've come to love dearly.
I roll my eyes. "What time is it? Don't you have work today?" I ask confused, tilting my head so I can look at his face from my sitting position.
He tenses. I can feel it because he's still got me wrapped up tight. "Seriously? That's the first thing you say?" he scoffs roughly. "No, I don't have work today. But you do... Did more like..."
My jaw drops before I cover my mouth in shame. I begin to panic and therefore wiggle in his arms trying to stand up. "Uh uh uh," he chides. "You're not going anywhere. We have to talk."
"Damon! Let me go!" I say elbowing his ribs the best that I can.
"Maybe I can still make it to work. Let me go Damon, I mean it!"
"Elena, stop," he says getting annoyed, gripping my arms almost painfully.
"Damon!" I whine, but I'm no longer struggling as much because I'm tiring. It's useless. He's far too strong, I'll never be able to overthrow him.
"I called in for you already," he informs me in a patronizing tone. "So you're not going anywhere."
I hate that smug smile on his face.
"You had no right!" I say infuriated. He's not allowed to make those type of decisions for me, no matter how much I love him. It's just not okay.
"Oh, sorry, and here I thought you'd actually thank me," Damon says exasperated, looking up at the ceiling in contempt.
"You can't just do something like that!"
"What, Elena? What did ya think was going to happen?" he replies. "It's nearly eleven, you know."
"Eleven?" I repeat disbelieving. "Why didn't you wake me up? You know I work Saturdays. I only work Saturdays!"
"You don't think I tried?" he retorts with a scoff.
My eyes go absolutely wide in shock. He's obviously not lying. Why would he lie? Gosh, this is worse than I thought. How could he not wake me up?
"Lord," I exhale, burying my face in my hands. My head shakes in shame. I'm a horrible person. I really screwed up everything!
"Baby. Everything's gonna be fine," Damon says, rubbing my shoulders lightly.
"No, it's not fine," I say muffled into my hands. I slowly look up at him with a questioning, hard glare. "What did you even say to them? Please tell me you called the blood bank, not the hospital. Who did you talk to?"
"I talked to Nurse Taylor. Isn't she your boss, right? The old maid? Pretty easy to remember after you meet her once." he answers. "I said you had the flu and couldn't go in today."
"The flu?" I murmur, allowing his fib to sink in. "The flu? Lord... What am I going to do? She's gonna ask a million questions next weekend."
"How is that worse than if you would have gone in like this?" he sneers. "You smell damn awful."
"Oh, thanks. You're a real sweetheart," I reply, glaring daggers at him. "If I smell so bad, then why are you still holding me?"
"Because I want to," he answers simply with natural arrogance.
"Right," I say, rolling my eyes. Somehow I'm now squeezing him very tightly. It just kinda eases my soul's pain for how much I messed up my day.
After a few moments of silence, I feel Damon's fingers back in my hair - stroking me gently.
I groan in dismay, realizing how much money I'm going to lose for not going in today. I double groan wondering if I'm going to get fired or booked extra shifts. I guess extra shifts wouldn't be that bad, I always want those.
"Your head hurts that bad?" Damon asks and pauses his petting in mid-action.
I shake my head to tell him that my hangover is alright so he doesn't start feeling bad for me. That's the last thing I need on my conscience.
"Then..." he drawls expectantly. Of course he's curious. I'm holding him tight, as tight as I possibly can and making sounds of deep mourning. I am mourning, mourning the money that I could be making for a day at the bank. I make quite a bit there, more a week than some adults in town.
"I just..." I can't finish the sentence because my thoughts are running like wildfire. I bury my head further into his body, searching for any kind of relief.
Silently I begin to count how much less money I'll have at the end of the month if I don't get to make up this missed shift.
Apparently, I was doing my subtractions aloud because Damon took notice of me.
"What is this really about?" he asks, attempting to pry me off him so he can talk to me properly, but I won't allow it and he isn't going to force the issue. I know how much he likes holding me.
"I'm just super worried about what's going to happen without this week's pay," I confess guiltily in a small voice.
Damon doesn't reply, probably hoping that I'd continue the conversation, but then I grow frustrated at my situation.
"How else am I going to pay for things?" I say, fully knowing that I'm totally whining now.
"Things, what things?" he questions instantly, once again trying to sit me up properly.
"Things..." I trail off with a thoughtful expression at the list in my head.
"What things?" he asks more forcefully. "Tell me. When have I ever denied you of anything?"
My general bad mood causes me to release my hold on his body and finally sit up at his level on the headboard.
"Damon... No..." I groan in protest because he's got it all wrong. It's not like I want a pretty dress or some pricey trinket. I'm saving up for something far more important than something to wear.
"Elena, just tell me what you want," He says grabbing my face, desperation is seeping in. Now I feel bad for causing that look in his eyes. I hate that look. It's positively heartbreaking.
"The money is for college," I answer dramatically. "Not something you can buy me. And not something that I'd ever let you help me with either." My lips tremble, just a little, in nervousness that I can't seem to pinpoint. It's not like we've never talked about college before. I'm graduating this year!
Damon's hands drop from my face and his brows are furrowed while studying me closely. "Man, I always just figured that your father was going to help you with that stuff."
"Well, yeah..." I reply with a small shrug in agreement. "But college is so expensive, especially the types that I applied to, so it's not going to work if I don't pitch in - anyway that I can. And it doesn't help that he's never been a fan of me applying to an out-of-state school. So I thought that if I saved enough for at least one year of school-"
"Out-of-state?" Damon interrupts my awkward ramble. "What do you mean out-of-state?"
I meet my boyfriend's suspicious eyes slowly. "Damon. Come on."
"I think I'd remember something as big as this."
"I want to go to Wesleyan! That's not a local school!"
"How was I supposed to know that? You've never mentioned that part."
"Ugh. Well, it's not in Virginia!" I exclaim throwing my hands up in the air. "It's in Georgia."
"Georgia," Damon repeats as if getting a feel for it. "That's not that far. I would know... I lived there for 17 years."
Exactly why I thought he knew the location of my number one pick for school.
"Yeah, well, it's still out-of-state... So it costs more than if I stayed here for school."
"Then why not stay here?"
"Because I have dreams... Damon, I've lived here my entire life. I want to get out of here before I end up on the damn founder's council."
"But your family is here. Your friends... Stefan," Damon lists, rolling his eyes after mentioning his baby brother. "Me! I'm here."
I nod in seriousness, knowing all of this already. Trust me, I considered these facts a long time ago, but I still want to leave. Nothing is going to convince me to stay in Mystic Falls.
"I just figured you'd be going to college with Stefan," he states quietly, puckering his lips to the side.
"Stefan?" I stare at him disbelieving before bursting into a fit of giggles. What a silly idea. Like that would ever happen! "I can't go wherever Stefan's going..."
Damon looks oddly shy or something, so I clarify, "The schools Stefan got into aren't co-ed. That's why, so I can't, even if I wanted to..."
His mouth parts in understanding. "So Georgia, huh?" he asks, eyeing me curiously.
"Maybe," I shrug. "Or Texas. Or New York. Or Wisconsin."
"Wisconsin?" Damon repeats looking at me like I've gone off the wall. "What the hell is in Wisconsin? Now you're just making things up to spite me."
I smile at him, but it's a bit of a sad smile because I'm actually serious about going to Wisconsin - well, to be honest, it's more of my safety school.
"Speaking of crazy, what the hell was that last night?" Damon demands, motioning to the bathroom door with his head.
Ah. I haven't been looking forward to this confrontation.
"Hey, where did my doorknob go?" I frown in confusion, seeing the large empty hole in plain sight.
"I didn't think you'd be too pleased with me if I had removed the whole damn door," he explains smirking. "How else was I supposed to get in? You locked me out, remember?"
"Right," I say blushing, vague memories of my bathroom floor come back to me. "No girl wants their guy to see them like that..."
"And what was that, exactly?" he probes. "Last time going, I remember being pretty damn surprised by how you took your drinks - well - for a dame of course."
I shrug and frown thinking about my actions. "I don't know. I don't really remember last night too well."
I'm embarrassed that I can't remember. I think this only happened to me once before. A few days after my 16th birthday to be exact.
"Elena!" Damon scolds me and I wince slightly at his tone. "What's the big deal? Stefan was there, I'm fine."
"I swear, I'll kill him. Just wait." he mutters under his breath much like last night. "He shouldn't have let you drink so much. And last night, you mentioned that Tyler showed up?"
I nod meekly.
"Ugh. I'm gonna kill him too," he mutters in a huskier voice.
"Damon, don't be like that. I know I messed up; I can't believe I actually missed work today. I'd take it back if I could. But it was my fault and no one else's." I say, wincing because of my throbbing head.
I finally get out of bed to grab some aspirin from the bathroom. On the floor, I see my screw-less doorknob. "How did you take that off anyway?"
"Blade." Damon says in a tone that makes it apparently the most obvious answer.
"Put it back where it belongs please. Will you?"
He just rolls his eyes at me and I wish he would just fix my doorknob now. I don't want to bug Jer or my dad about fixing it. Somehow I don't think they'd appreciate the reason why it had been removed in the first place.
"Have you seen Jer?" I ask wondering because I don't hear anyone on the other side of the bathroom.
"No," Damon snaps. "I don't think he slept here last night and I bet he's working the early shift at the shop."
"Oh."
"What was he thinking anyway, leaving you here in that awful state?"
"I'm sure he knew I was going to be okay. Not like I haven't put him through this before..." I trail off and remember how blitzed Damon must have seen me before, back when we didn't even say a word to each other. That's odd to me, I admit.
"I could kill him," he frowns, crossing his arms in disdain.
"Sure sounds like you've got a lot of people to kill," I quip, shaking my head at his usual macho bravado.
Damon stands up suddenly and puts his hands on my shoulders.
"All because you drive me crazy!" he states, shaking me with a half-teasing expression.
"Ow, dizzy," I frown. "Stop that."
"You'll get over it," he dismisses, but promptly stops shaking me.
His nose wrinkles comically.
"Damon! I don't smell that bad," I say offended, yet sniffing myself at the same time.
I attempt to kiss him, but he pulls away! I can't believe him, so I pout at the injustice.
"Nah uh. None of that," he remarks slyly. "Shower first."
I let out a breath in fake resignation and surprise him by dropping my skirt without warning. His eyes follow my panty line to my socks with deep fascination. He ogles.
Next I take off my top and throw it nonchalantly aside, not even paying attention to him while I do so. He bites his bottom lip though, preventing him from uttering a single sound. I'm starting to wonder if I'm going to lose this little game; if he really won't touch me the real way until I shower. 'Cause Lord Almighty, he smells good. Who'd known that I'd end up savoring the smell of car oil? I want him - so much. Plus we both know that it's been awhile. I smirk, looking up at him.
I pause, waiting for him to react in some way, but when he doesn't, I quickly unclasp my bra. It falls to my feet joining my discarded skirt. Damon's fingers twitch yet he still hasn't touched me. So I give him my best big-doe eyes, because that usually works as I lean down provocatively while removing my undies.
Before I even have the chance to step out of them, he yanks me up in the air and throws me over his shoulder - eliciting a girly shriek from me.
"Ouch!" I exclaim loudly as he smacks my bottom with a hard, solid slap.
"What was that for?"
"You've been a bad, bad girl," he answers, practically stomping us into my bathroom.