Here's to the road to literary redemption…. This chapter is going to jump around a bit back and forth between Damon and Elena POV's. UHH sorry but Netflix is a constant distraction, luckily I finished supernatural and I'm going to try my best to wrap up this story. I hate writing them fighting (rhyme city bitch) but I have to do it…. Sorry guys. Enojy!
Walls are strange things, useful. They give you privacy, they keep you protected, and they create a sense of security and comfort. They are strong, not easily destroyed but not impossibly. I wonder how many sledge hammers it would take to take down one of Caroline's warm brown wall I was currently staring at. How many people it would take it down, probably a few men. And no, I wasn't just sitting there pondering construction, I was trying to put my finger on the moment that my own walls crumbled to shambles and rubble, leaving them easy to mantle, leaving me vulnerable. Unlike these four walls, it took only one man to break them irreparably. I thought I knew pain after my parents, I thought I had felt all the pain the world had to offer after Mason, but all of it paled in insignificance went it came to him. Damon. It hurt to even think his name.
I think it was that challenging personality at first. The fact that he didn't look at me with pity, he didn't care what I had gone through, he treated me like he would treat anyone else initially. But when I think of the initial swings of the sledge hammer on my own walls, it's much clearer. However his initial treatment was not the greatest, I secretly appreciated the normalcy. It was that smile that was the first swing of the sledgehammer; the way his eyes burned into mine the second, the third was his compassion. Even thought it was a hidden trait, he was soft, sweet and caring. But I think the final blow was him proposing. My stomach churned at the thought of it. I wanted nothing more than to scream yes, kiss him and stay for him, build a life with him. But I can't be selfish with him; I can't do what I want, because whenever I do, the people I love most get hurt. I can't even bring myself to cry or be upset; my guilt blankets every other emotion. I don't deserve to be upset and cry.
I brought this on myself, and I couldn't feel bad for myself. I wonder what he's doing right now. I imagine him sitting in the leather chair in his room, with his shirt unbuttoned, holding a large glass of bourbon. Just enough that you could taste it on his lips. I imagine his black hair flopped over his forehead in disarray from him running his fingers through it from exasperation. What hurt the most was knowing I wouldn't be there to taste the liquor on his lips or run my fingers through his hair, I wouldn't be able to look into his eyes and try to set things right, it wasn't my place anymore. Just a few hours ago it was, but now it's not. All I can see in my head is the pain in his clear eyes, how bad I really hurt him. Those eyes that had always captivated me had always been so filled with joy and humor. But all of those memories were veiled by this one; I watched his heart break from the things I said.
And although I willed myself not to cry, tears streamed down. But they were for a distinct purpose, the tears that rolled down my face were not for me, they had nothing to do with my self-loathing, they were for him. Everything was for him, it always will be.
A squeak of a door hinge and soft padding of feet come down the hallway, Caroline flips the light on. She smiled at me and walked over, flopping down on the cushion next to me. My lips form into a ghost of the smile at the sight of Caroline bare faced without makeup, her bouncy hair in a ponytail and wearing pink fuzzy pj's. That smile quickly faded as her mouth set in a frown and her eyebrows pulled up and she looked at me concerned. And just like that I was sulking again.
"Hey. How are you doing?" she asks softly. There it is. The 'how are you?' question, I've been asked that more times in my life than anything else I think. I tried not to get annoyed because it was Caroline, and she genuinely wanted to know how I was doing.
"I'm a mess." I laughed humorlessly. My fingers played with the hem of my shirt anxiously.
"I'm so sorry Elena." Caroline whispered softly. No, don't be sorry for me. I deserved this.
"Don't be sorry for me Care. Be sorry for Damon. He didn't do anything wrong, and I just wrecked him. I don't deserve to be comforted, this entire thing fault.
"Come on Elena don't be so hard on yourself. Couples fight." She shrugs. She's saying that now, when I told her what I actually did I'm sure she wouldn't feel the same way. This wasn't just any fight.
"No Caroline you don't get it." I said hanging my head, beating around the bush.
"You're right I don't. Tell me. Sometimes it helps to get things off your chest." She suggested. The only thing I had told her on the phone when I had called was a tearful 'Damon and I had gotten into a fight'. Understatement of the year. She deserves an explanation since she was being so hospitable and sweet.
"It's not just another fight Caroline." Tears cloud my vision uncontrollably. Her eyebrows knit in confusion.
"He proposed to me Caroline." My hoarse voice rang out, I kept my eyes fixed on the coffee table and prayed she would understand, I couldn't take loosing anyone else tonight. A few seconds of silenc dragged on.
"Wow." She dead pans, her blue eyes wide in surprise. "I guess I kinda saw it coming but it's still weird thinking of Damon doing that. I'm guessing you didn't say yes." She smiled sadly. I shook my head and twined my fingers together nervously.
"I wanted to. I still want to. I couldn't imagine a happier life then with Damon. But I can't. I can't do it Care."
"Can't or won't?" She asks cautiously.
"Both. I can't do that to him. I'm not all there Caroline. I'm never going to be that normal girl who breezes through life, I have some vital pieces missing. I can't dump my emotional angst on him. He deserves the best things in the world and I'm far from it. I can't let him settle when he could be somewhere better. And I won't. No matter how much I want him." I said.
"You love him." Caroline said softly.
"Yes." I answered. She smiles slightly.
"That wasn't a question. I know you do. You wouldn't sacrifice your happiness and your future if you weren't in love with him Elena. I know that you think there's something wrong with you Elena, but the only thing I see is an extremely selfless person. You are so selfless it's a fault." She chuckles. I watch her cautiously, confused why she wasn't judging me.
"And don't think you are getting off lucky with the whole 'I'm not good enough' talk because I'm just going to ignore your whole self-loathing thing because that's a whole conversation in and of its self. What I'm struggling with is whether or not I should slap some sense into you or send you into sainthood." Caroline shrugged.
"I'm hardly a saint Care." I scoff. "I can't even think about what the things i said to him must have done. I lied, over and over again. I tore him down. And this whole thing was to prevent pain for him and I end up hurting him more and more." I asked.
"What did he say?"
"He called my bluff which made me even more angry, he was so close to making me give in, but I couldn't. You should have seen him Caroline. It was like watching the life drain from his eyes. I destroyed him." I cover my eyes with my hands and sob silently.
"It's okay Elena. He's a tough kid. It's you I'm worried about." She says concerned. She really was my best friend, even when I'm undoubtedly in the wrong she's comforting me. One of her hands soothingly rubs my back. I don't deserve this comfort.
"I can take the pain Care, it's self-inflicted. It's his pain I can't take." I mumbled.
"Maybe you should call him." She suggested.
"I'd only make things worse. I don't think an apology could cover it. And I don't want to apologize because of the things I said, because I'm right. I'm no good for him. I only feel sorry for hurting him so badly. What kind of person does that make me Caroline?"
"Just that, Elena. A person. It makes you human. We make mistakes. That's our thing." I laughed humorlessly. "You know it wouldn't hurt you to go after what you want Elena. Damon seemed quite alright with your arrangement. In fact I have never seen him more generous, approachable and sweet as he is with you."
"It's better this way, he'll get over me."
"Maybe." She frowned. "Alright. I'm calling an official timeout." She said as she hopped up. "Before you even think of saying anything else we need a few things. Food and a movie."
She rummages through the cabinets and returns with an armful of bags and jars. Caroline is such a fantastic person, god I was going to miss her. She puts on a movie and hands me a jar of Nutella and a spoon with a smile before she focuses on the TV. I sink back into the couch and absentmindedly watch the movie, without really watching it. My mind was on him. All I could think about was maybe that would be the last time I would ever see him. He might not want to see me before I left. I don't even know if I wanted to see him again. What had I called it? A clean break? But there was nothing clean about what I had done.
After a few hours, Caroline went off to bed, leaving me to my own thoughts, in the dark with only with my own thoughts.
"You're your own worst enemy." His words echoed in my head. I winced, because it was so true. I sabotage myself. Better me than him.
I curl onto the couch even tighter, the only light in the room supplied by the moon shining through the window. A shiver runs down my spine and I wrap the blanket around my shoulders and look outside at the silvery cast of the moon. So here I sat in self-imposed isolation and silence, not to mention darkness in a catatonic state like I had for the entire night. The apartment around me was quiet as the dead, all but the soft drip of tears settling on the hardwood floor. There was nothing else to do but stare at the mess I made.
DAMON POV:
I miss the times when things were so cut and dry. I had to only worry about myself and my brother. Everyone else could go to hell as far as I was concerned. It was times like this that I wish I hadn't thrown the whole 'fuck the world' mentality out the window, because this would have never happened. I wouldn't have opened myself up, I wouldn't have made myself so vulnerable because now look at me, destroyed, my world upturned. Maybe I can just snap back to the way I was before her, because obviously she wants nothing to do with me. I'm so fucking confused, it was times like this I missed my mom the most, she would have told me what to do. I couldn't exactly confide in my father, and that's just too weird with Stefan, so cue the bottle. There are so many times I have no fucking idea what I'm doing these days, like I don't know now.
I laughed humorously at the ceilings I have been staring at for what must be hours. I bring the bottle to my lips and don't even cringe at the large gulp I take down my throat. I lift it again only to find that I had emptied it completely. I frown and throw it on the ground, the glass splits into millions of shards that tumble on onto the floor in a fine powder, and some coarse pieces shine from the moonlight through my window. That'd be a bitch to clean up tomorrow. I'd have to fix that when I woke up.
"What Damon are you going to help fix me... Guess what I can't be fixed!"
I winced at the sharp words that replayed like the weather channel in my head, over and over again, a continuous loop. I wasn't even mad right now, you know why? Because I'm drunk. And when I'm drunk I can't smell her shampoo and perfume, I can't taste her lips, I can't even think straight, so I don't have to think about what tomorrow will bring and the things I should have said. So anything to block out the pain, even if I smell like a bar, even if I taste vomit and copious amounts of liquor it's better than smelling the roses and dealing with the fact that she left me. I lay on my back flat on my bed and watched as the room spun around me.
"I don't want to marry you."
I squeeze my eyes shut and sit myself up against the pillows of my bed. And I saw her, over and over again. Her brown eyes fading, the tears she was trying to hold back, but then the things she would say. I was confused. Her mouth was sharp, but her eyes spoke volumes. For every insult and negation of anything I said, her eyes swelled with contradiction. She was an emotional martyr.
Yes, maybe it was premature to propose but she was the one who said there are only two things for sure in life. Being born and dying, and when I found what I wanted why would I waste any time? But it's obvious that it wasn't reciprocated. My hand hit the cool, smooth bed sheets beside me that has been her place every night for I don't even know how long. The coldness felt alien, my body felt frozen without her body heat and even just her presence.
I close my eyes again and try to feel something, anything. Maybe I'm just having some weird trippy dream. I search for any emotion; to prove this wasn't real. That I would be startled awake in the night to find Elena's head resting against my chest and her pulled tight to me. But I knew better, I knew this was no dream. Because if I was in a dream, I wouldn't feel this empty. I wouldn't feel so god damn hollow inside like I do right now. I wish I felt something, just to remind me that I do have a heart, what's left if it at least. I drunkenly toss a hand over my eyes and work to clear my head, anything about her I shove to the outside of my mind and build a wall around it.
Maybe I deserved it; I wasn't good enough to be happy. I blame my head for my own heart's mistake, I should have known better. And I don't know what I'm supposed to do, but she is probably out there crying so maybe I will too. I'm alone after all. A knock at the door shakes me from my drunken tirade. I don't even bother looking at who it is, there is a bout a .05% chance that it would be Elena, and even drunk I know that the probability of me being disappointed is more often than not. My eyes stay trained on the floor while a pair of feet cross the wood and stop in view. Stefan. Any and every semblance of an emotional wall went up in the presence of someone now. Self-preservation I guess, it's easier for when people undoubtedly leave. Cue the sarcasm, I think.
"What the hell Damon?" Stefan asks angrily.
"What specifically about hell do you want to know? The fire, Lucifer, what? You're going to have to be more specifinick!" I mumbled drunkenly turning my head slightly and smirking at Stefan. His face was crumpled up in disgust, good thing I didn't care.
"What the hell did you do to Elena?" He growls. Ahh just what I needed, a judgmental brother accusing me.
"I didn't do anything Dr. Phil!" I replied. I'm sure he was rolling his stupid eyes at me, but the ceiling needed more visual analyizations.
"Why is it that I don't believe you?" He demands. Ughh he is so touchy and nosy, if I had control of my motor skills right now I'd probably punch him.
"Believe what you want brother." I said looking at the small dimples in the ceiling. How did a ceiling even stand up? That's some weird shit. It's like magic or something.
"You're drunk, and mad. That's really unhealthy for a normal person, let alone you." Stefan says judgmentally.
"You `know what I want Stefan? I want you to fuck off, and leave me alone like everyone else? Kay?" I slur and flipped face down on my bed, giving him the hint to leave me the fuck alone. He stomped out of the room right on cue, I sighed into the sheets beneath me. They smelled like her, I flipped my head to the other side and drifted into a drunken sleep. The last thing that passes my conscious thoughts is, "No. I don't love you."