AN: The way for this chapter is: "Are you sure?"
It takes her eternity to find him. Not an eternity, she tells his slowly waking body, just a week. One horribly long week.
His body was not an easy thing to sneak into her house, she had to do it when it was too dark for her neighbors to see-she had shut her trunk and the front door after she pulled the dagger out.
It's still startling, it's not the first time she's pulled a dagger out of his chest, but it's still alarming to see him like that.
He gasps, and she breathes a sigh of relief. He can hear, she knows he can-so she fills him in on the last week. He makes painful sounding noises, harsh on her ears. He stays down. He's still tinged with gray, his skin looks unhealthy. He needs blood, she realizes and oh fuck. She didn't have any. She didn't know where to get it, and the fridge at his apartment had been empty.
"Elijah?" She asks, cautiously.
"Elena." He responds, his voice is rough.
"You need blood. I don't have any. You need to drink from me." She says, slight anxiety creeping into her voice. She's never-Elijah and she have never crossed that line, and they have so many lines-
"No." He refuses. He has never let himself intentionally hurt Elena, emotionally or physically. He's too hungry-she's too close. He wants it, he's smelled it almost everyday for years.
She helps him off the floor, and presses him into a wall.
"I want to help you. Let me help." She insists, moving her hair to the side, her neck is presented like an offering.
"No." He refuses, she's still stronger than him for the moment. She moves her hand to the back of his neck, she's just crossed another line, and she forces his head to her throat.
"Drink." She commands, and he wants to resist, truly, but she smells too good.
"Are you sure?" He asks.
She confirms it, with a loud, and impatient, yes, just drink already-she wants him better.
"I'm sorry." He whispers into her neck before his fangs make an appearance. He uses the smallest prick of his teeth that he can, his aim is not to cause pain to lovely Elena.
It doesn't hurt, not really. Stefan, the one time he had bitten her had been absolutely horrible-but it's not that bad. It's just an odd sensation, she tells herself. It's totally fine that his lips are technically on her neck like a dream or a few that she's had. She'd never admit it.
His fangs, not his lips. It's not romantic, it's just hunger, she tells herself.
When her head is too light, he can hear her heartbeat slowing. He moves back, and bites into his wrist, offering it to her.
They just crossed so many lines that Elena will have to think about it later, and count to see if they have any left at all but she nods and he presses it against her mouth. He took too much, he doesn't hesitate to share his blood, it's Elena.
When her pulse is normal, he moves his wrist away, his blood is on her lips and it does something strange to his stomach.
"Elena." He says, his voice still rough-
"Thank you." She just nods, moving to lean against the wall for support.
