Yay! Second chapter! Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed! I appreciate and sincerely take them into account.

(psst, also thanks to Brooke for not exposing me lmao)

Disclaimer: I don't own TVD!

Light cannot exist without Darkness; Darkness cannot exist without Light.

"How could I ever repay you, Elena?"

. .

,

His piercing blue stare bore into her, and Elena felt the desire pool in her lower half. Before he could say another word, she climbed over the table, knocking over his plate and mug to the floor. She didn't care; she just wanted this man right now.

She swung her legs around him, straddling and kissing him roughly. It was a bruising kiss, and they soon opened their mouths to explore each other with their tongues. She arched her back and moaned, feeling the hard muscles of his chest through the thin fabric of her shirt. God he was hot.

Elena's fingers roughly scraped through his scalp, the dark hair she'd been begging to run her hand through since she saw him sleeping on her couch. The woman moved her hands to lightly rake her nails down his bare chest and his abs, resulting in a moan from deep in his throat. The sound of his pleasure went straight to her core, the vibrations somehow making her even more aroused.

Damon broke the kiss to trail wet kiss across her jaw and down her neck; he bit roughly around her jugular, definitely leaving a mark. Elena's sighs and mewls caused another groan from the man; his hands slid down her back to cup her ass, kneading it in synchronized circles. She unconsciously bucked her hips, grinding down on the hardness in his jeans. Damon pulled back and hissed, returning his mouth to her even more ferociously. Elena's heart was beating wildly, her breaths ragged and hot.

The brazen sounds of their messy kisses made the heat in the woman's stomach unbearable. Elena had never felt like this before. . .ever.

They were all hands and wet mouths; Damon made his way to her ear, licking it shamelessly with his tongue and biting the ear lobe; she could feel his smirk. She mewled wantonly, gripping his head even tighter to bring the hot man closer. But he chuckled and stopped, bringing his burning blue eyes to meet her dark chocolate ones. Damon cupped her cheek with his hand, rubbing her swollen bottom lip with his thumb. Elena couldn't help but lean into his hot touch, sighing at the warmth of his big hands. Their chests were heaving; Elena enjoyed just staring at the god before her.

"Elena, can you hear me?" his voice was muffled, and she looked at him in confusion. Was that Caroline's voice coming from his mouth?

"Elena, hello?"

"Earth to Elena, hello~" Caroline waved a hand in front of Elena, who had been absent-mindedly wiping a glass at the bar for the past ten minutes. The blonde's voice snapped Elena out of her daydream. "You okay there, Lena?"

Elena cleared her throat and licked her dry mouth. Oh God.

"Yeah, I- uh, I'm fine," she stuttered, working her way around the bar to begin mopping the floors with the mop propped against the bar. It was eleven in the evening; the Grill was closed and Elena was left alone to clean up and lock. Caroline had stayed from coming in earlier to keep her friend company.

"You daydreaming about that sexy mystery vagabond?" Caroline giggled, slapping her friend playfully on the shoulder. Caroline sat at the bar, drinking a simple rum and coke.

"You're one to talk about mystery men, Care," Elena wiggled her brows. Caroline rolled her eyes, still having yet to indulge anything about that British man from last night- Klaus was it?- to her or Bonnie. "And besides, I wasn't about to take advantage of some stranger, even if. . . " Elena trailed off, her mouth going dry again. "Even if he was super sexy. . ."

Was 'sexy' even enough of a word to describe him?

When Elena woke up in the graveyard last night being beaten by those local thugs, something just came over her. She knew she couldn't fight them, so she pitifully waited for them to stop and finally leave. When Elena finally came over to look at the man, hovering over his body, she had to contain herself at his beaten state. She knew she couldn't just leave him there; after mumbled protests, she took him to her apartment. It was a struggle, but she somehow got the man to hobble his way over, his arm slung over her shoulder. Elena didn't bother with the lights when they entered, leaving them off and letting the moonlight from outside gently light her apartment.

She sat him on the couch, and his head lolled back, immediately passing out. His phone fell out of his pocket, and she placed it in the kitchen without another thought. Then, quickly racing into and out the bathroom, she wanted to quickly set work to first-aid. She pulled his shoes off, laying him comfortably on the sofa. She then slowly peeled off his leather jacket, folding it over the arm of the couch. Elena gulped; she calmly peeled off his black cotton shirt. . .

Wow. Just. . . wow. His body looked like it was sculpted by the greek gods. Even with his cuts and bruises, which somehow made him sexier, she couldn't help but be mesmerized, her eyes tracing the lines of his pecs, then his abs, then to the deep v of his hips leading . . ; Elena quickly pulled herself together, pulling her hungry eyes off of him. This poor guy was messing with that drug gang from around here. . . he's probably in a hard situation. . . You can't treat him like some object Elena!

Elena quickly but thoroughly treated his wounds; the man was unconscious the whole time, his deep brows furrowed even in his sleep. She looked at his jeans; should I? In the end, she decided it was best to be as thorough as possible; Elena tried to not make a big deal out of slipping his pants off, but she couldn't stop the deep redness of her face. She quickly glanced at his legs, trying to avoid that area with her eyes, but out of the corner of her eyes she knew. Oh my god he's big.

Luckily, there were only some bruises, which she quickly treated and speedily slid his jeans back on. After his lower half was covered, she released a strained breath she didn't know she was holding. She laid his head on the couch. Elena disappeared into her room for a moment, emerging with the comforter from her bed, tucking the man into it.

Elena kneeled beside the couch, just staring at the man. Some of his gorgeous raven locks had fallen onto his furrowed brows; without thinking, Elena reached up to swipe the strands away. His hair feels so soft . . .Then her fingers trailed down the side of his face, her fingers gentle, almost not even touching. The curl of the man's brow softened, and he seemed to relax under Elena's touch. As the line of his mouth softened, she felt the world come to a stand still.

He's so beautiful. She continued to softly stroke the man's face, the moonlight from outside illuminating the dark living room; it made his skin, although battered and bruised, look ethereal. Her fingers traced his bandaged eyebrow and slightly agape lips; she felt the ridge of his strong nose. When he whimpered, her hand flinched away, hoping she didn't hurt him.

"Mamá. . ." he murmured, a single perfect teardrop escaping under his long eyelashes. His brows furrowed once again. Elena's heart strained in her chest, and she hurt for this man she didn't even know. She wiped his tear softly with the back of her finger; Elena wished she could just pull this man into an embrace and comfort him, but knew it would be way too forward and inappropriate.

Eventually, she did manage to break away, settling back in her own room with an old threadbare blanket from her closet. As she laid down to sleep, her mind was racing. She's never had a man in her apartment before, let alone some stranger. . . but for some reason, she didn't feel any suspicion or worry. Maybe it's because I pity him? With that thought, she settled to sleep.

When she awoke, she emerged from her room, happy to see the man was still soundly asleep. Well, I've already been this hospitable. . . maybe I should pull out the big guns?

She brought out her eggs and bacon from the fridge, putting precious non-instant coffee grounds into her coffee machine. These were her "luxuries"- things she only consumed when she wanted to treat herself once in a blue moon. Especially the bacon; that was an especially luxurious, and expensive, item that she rarely bit into. But Elena felt no guilt generously cooking up four slices, the last of her reserve, for the man on her couch. Elena actually felt . . . giddy. It felt good to not be alone in her apartment. It felt good to take care of someone and cook them breakfast; it reminded her of her childhood, like cooking for Jeremy when he was sick. . .

Before she could stop it, Elena started to think of her mom; the way she used to dance around the kitchen when she cooked. Elena would be perched up on the kitchen island, swinging her legs and singing along to whatever her mom was singing. This was a rare instance of happy nostalgia, with no hint of sadness or guilt. She just felt her mom's warmth. Her smile. As Elena stirred the eggs in the pan, she felt so at ease; a song her mom used to sing filled her thoughts.

"Autumn leaves. . ."

The sultry voice made Elena's heart jump, almost spilling the eggs and dropping her spoon. She turned to face the mystery man in the doorway of her kitchen, leaving her breathless at the sight of him.

Oh my god.

Still barefoot and shirtless, he leaned against the doorway looking like he was modeling for the cover of GQ. His fair skinned muscles rippled under his bandages, and his black hair was tousled and - wow. His eyes. Those eyes. A piercing set of electric blue eyes were half-lidded, obviously still tired, but Elena knew from her experience with the drunks at the grill the other emotion behind them. He made no words, just staring at her; she would've been happy to stare at him forever, too, but the smell of burning eggs pulled her from her trance.

"U-uh," she stammered, hastily plating his food. Elena could still feel his burning gaze on her. "I, uh,I made breakfast . . . if you're hungry." Elena hurried out the kitchen, brushing passed the man through the doorway; she could feel his heat, swearing she could feel an electric spark flutter across her skin. But Elena ignored it, setting the food down on the table before the couch, going to and fro to get his coffee and utensils.

Elena finally sat in the chair across the table, watching him eat. Ugh, I must look kinda weird. But she couldn't look away; there was a soft comfortable look on his face. A peacefulness that made Elena all warm inside.

"You're staring you know," his voice was like velvet to her ears, and she shuddered at the sound of it.

"S-sorry, I, um. . ." Get it together girl! "I'm Elena." she extended her hand in greeting, but immediately felt internally embarrassed. This isn't some business meeting, what are you doing!?

Thankfully, the man seemed to be gracious, his face pulling up into a smirk. "Damon," when she took his hand, it was like a volt of electricity shocked where their skin touched, sending goosebumps up her arm. She pulled away quickly, both to her relief and dismay.

Elena explained what had happened last night, noting how Damon's expression hardened as she spoke, turning unreadable. It soon softened again though, as he thanked her for patching him up, that glint returning to his eyes. Then something passed over his face again, making his eyes lower and darken. His big hand tugged at Elena's, his mouth hovering over her hand.

"How could I ever repay you, Elena?" she felt the hotness of his breath; the cerulean eyes staring up at her dripping with seduction. Oh sweet Jesus. When was the last time she felt like this? Had she ever felt like this before? This raw, primal attraction to someone? Elena's heart was jumping out of her chest. When was the last time she was intimate with someone. . .? It wouldn't hurt if. . .

.

.

.

No!

. .

.

.

Elena pulled herself from his grasp, speeding into the kitchen without looking back at Damon. She pulled a sandwich from her small fridge, writing her number in sharpie on the bag. It was supposed to be her lunch later at work, but he probably needed it more. The woman stuffed the sandwich into a paper bag, along with Damon's untouched phone still on the counter.

Even if he might be interested in you, Elena. . . you can't bed some beaten guy from the street. The guy's been through enough. . .He deserves some human decency!

"Please, get dressed!" she yelled from the kitchen. The brunette tried her best to sound authoritative like she did in class, but knew it wasn't working. She pulled her satchel from the corner of the kitchen counter, heaving it over her shoulder, making it seem like she was about to go out.

Besides, you can't exactly keep him here or something.

Before she left the kitchen she paused. Sighing, Elena grabbed the wallet from her bag, pulling out all her cash and stuffing it into the brown paper bag. Well, there goes my week's tips. She re-entered the living room, her resolve steeled. Elena hastily tried to rush him out of the apartment, telling him to take care of himself and call if he needed anything.

Who are you kidding, Elena? You know you didn't have to give him your number.

Elena pushed the thought aside and just shut the door in his face. She stood silent, motionless; after what felt like forever, she relaxed when she finally heard his footsteps get further and further away. Her bag slid off her shoulder as she slumped, the weight of Damon finally releasing her.

She planned to make an official police report later that day to Sheriff Forbes, or Liz as Elena called her, since she was Caroline's mom after all. Elena planned to keep Damon anonymous, somehow knowing it would be what the man wanted.

Damon. Damon.

Even his name was sexy. . .

"Elena~!" Caroline laughed, slapping her friend's shoulder. "I lost you there again!" Elena had finished mopping, her fantasies making her body run on auto-pilot.

"Sorry, Care, I just hope he's doing alright now, you know?" Elena sighed, walking to place all her cleaning supplies back into the closet. She untied her apron, placing it behind the bar counter; she pulled on her, tightening her mid-height ponytail that she always wore when she worked at the Grill.

"I still don't know why you didn't just bang him," Caroline giggled, Elena shooting her an incredulous look. "I mean you haven't been with a guy in forever Elena! If god had plunked some hunk right into my arms, I wouldn't even think twice about doing him!" Caroline laughed and Elena smiled too, albeit definitely blushing. Elena took the blonde's empty glass, setting it quickly in the sink in the kitchen before returning to her friend, who was already ready to leave.

"Thanks for staying with me by the way, Care," Elena smiled, holding her friend's hands in her own.

"Don't even mention it!" Caroline playfully scolded, bumping her with her hip. "I needed some good R and R before seeing my dad all the way in New York again," she lamented. The blonde's parents split up when she was 12; since then, once a month she spent a week with her dad all the way over in New York City; she would be leaving tomorrow afternoon. The relationship between her and her dad had been strained since she hit her teens; however, although she hated to admit it, Caroline loved being spoiled by him- a big time banker with major cash.

"Care, it's always good to spend time with your dad, you know? And didn't you say you wanted that one new Dolce and Gabbana cocktail dress on Wolf Street?" Elena wiggled her shoulders playfully, causing the blonde to relax and giggle. They laughed together, before Elena did the final touches, preparing to finally leave the restaurant.

"What did you say his name was again?" Caroline asked as they began to head for the door.

"Oh yeah, his name's Da-"

.

Ring Ring RIng!

.

As Elena pulled out her phone, an unknown number sprawled across her screen. Maybe it was one of the students from her English 101 class?

"Hello?"

.

"Hello, E-le-na."

The silky smoothness of his voice made her shiver even through the phone. The way he drew out her name made her want to melt. Elena's eyes met Caroline's for a moment; the blonde's eyes instantly sparkled, understanding the situation.

"Now, I was planning on heading out of town as soon as I left your apartment, but I didn't want to leave my savior without showing at least a little bit of gratitude." the man chuckled. "You know in a little town like Mystic Falls, it's not hard to find out where people work."

"What are you-"

.

.

"Come outside, Elena."

.

.

The girl blinked and her breath caught in her throat, a small shiver running down her spine. Like under a spell, she obeyed his words easily. Elena walked outside, letting the blonde trail behind her. Then, the sight of him made her heart dance in her chest.

Like some sort of dark prince in a black leather jacket, he leaned casually against a midnight blue camaro parked on the street right outside the Grill, holding an extravagant bouquet of white lilies and baby's breath. My favorite. He looked refreshed, his eyes sparkling when they locked with Elena's own.

However, Elena could feel a shift in the air; she saw Caroline and Damon lock eyes with each other. The blonde was scowling, just like with that man Klaus last night, and Damon's brows furrowed, his once smiling lips now in a tight line. Caroline crossed her arms.

"What are you doing here," she bit out. "Klaus was already here last night." Damon's shoulders slumped, stealing a glance to look at a now very confused Elena. The brunette's eyes passed between the two who were glaring at each other in silence.

"Here," Damon's quiet voice breaking the silent war, walking toward Elena with a strained smile. His face was apologetic as he looked at her. "These are for you." Before he could actually give the bouquet, however, Caroline stepped between him and Elena, giving another deep grimace.

"Care, what're you-"

"Leave, Damon," Caroline's voice was hard and cold as she cut off the brunette. Damon began to reveal a hard scowl of his own.

"No can-do, Blondie," he joked humorlessly, his eyebrows arching, "And you don't exactly have any right telling me what to do anymore." He noticed the blonde falter and smirked. "What can I say, I couldn't stay away forever could I?" Caroline's arms dropped, a flash of worry immediately passing her face.

"Now I would love to have a moment alone with my friend here," he said, motioning his head toward Elena. His eyes hardened, his face emotionless, "Questo è un ordine."

Caroline was restrained for a moment, before finally looking at Elena, who was still very confused.

"Wait, Care, you two know-"

"Listen, Elena, I promise I'll tell you everything when I get back from New York," Caroline interrupted, her hands grasping Elena's shoulders in a firm grip. The blonde's eyes were pleading, worried. "I have to go, but don't even hesitate to call me if something happens, ok?" With one final glance between Elena and Damon, Caroline left, briskly walking to her car and speeding down the dark road. Elena and Damon watched the blonde leave in silence.

"Anyways~" Damon huffed, again turning to face Elena, finally handing her the bouquet. She looked at him, a million thoughts passing through her head as she stared into his eyes which were soft once again. "I did a little asking around; turns out Ms. Flowers down the street just adores you, Elena."

Elena smiled, inhaling the sweet scent of the lilies. Ms. Flowers was an old family friend whom she also adored. Damon was smiling now too, and Elena's head and heart clashed.

"Thank you, Damon. . . but I, uh, I thought you-"

"That I was some hobo, Elena?" he snickered. "If you hadn't kicked me out so soon, you probably would've found out that I am very much not some poor druggie from off the street." Damon's sarcastic voice made Elena giggle, which made his own grin widen.

"Do you want to come in? I know it's late and all. . ." Elena motioned to the Grill, Damon perking up further.

"I thought you'd never ask."

"So you know I have to ask about what just happened with Caroline, right?" she asked, as they settled side by side sitting at the bar, Elena placing the bouquet on the bar space next to her. Damon rolled his eyes.

"You could say we're childhood friends," he huffed. "You know how it is." He smirked at her playfully, but Elena could tell from the hardness in his voice that this was a topic he didn't want to discuss further. She nodded, wordlessly placing herself behind the bar and getting a glass for him to drink.

"What's your poison, Damon?"

"Bourbon, neat," he replied, eyeing the way her hips moved as she prepared his drink. He always did appreciate a woman who knew her alcohol. He especially appreciated a woman who had hips as tantalizing as Elena's. She set the glass before him, before coming around and sitting next to him, a Whiskey sour in her own hands. He eyed her amused.

"What?" she retorted. "Not everyone can drink that stuff straight." She shook her shoulders and fake-gagged, making him quietly laugh and her giggle. They smiled, both taking sips of their drinks enjoying the peaceful emptiness of the restaurant.

". . . Are you ok, by the way?" Elena's face straightened, eyes glancing over his body. Damon tensed under her scrutiny. "Did you see a hospital?" Damon's smile wavered back into a straight line, but his eyes were still gentle as they looked at her.

"Totally peachy," he took another swig of his bourbon. "It takes a lot more than a bunch of brats with bats to take me down." He winked, his playfulness returning.

"Why did those guys do that anyways . . . ?" Elena pushed.

"Just some messed up business, Elena," Damon replied stoically, his brows creasing. "It's not something you should worry about." His pleading eyes made Elena melt inside.

"Yeah, well I can't exactly do anything but worry," her brows were curled too, but she softly laughed. "Seeing as though I met you after getting your ass kicked."

"Hey! They jumped me!" he joked in mock offense. "Trust me, if they hadn't surprised me-"

Elena burst out into a full-on laugh, and Damon swore it was the loveliest sound he'd ever heard (besides her singing, of course). He laughed along with her, their genuine smiles and laughter filling the restaurant with warmth.

Then they just started to talk- about anything, everything. Except of course, Damon's past or his occupation; Elena had made various tries to break through those walls, but no matter how much bourbon the man consumed, he shot her down every time. Damon, meanwhile, greedily lapped up all knowledge he could take on the woman before him- he didn't need to though, since a whole day of snooping around Mystic Falls had already given him a clear picture of her character: the local sweetheart that helped all over town. There was a bit of mystery surrounding her past, too; however, Damon didn't try to push her. He was enjoying himself too much to ruin the moment.

When was the last time I enjoyed just talking to someone like this? Their minds harmonized as the same thought passed through them simultaneously.

Who knew how long they had been sitting, talking, laughing together; they certainly weren't paying any attention to the time. Elena learned how snarky and sarcastic the man was; usually, she didn't find it nearly as funny or endearing as she did in Damon. She was also glad that his seductive side from that morning had yet to make any appearance; she just wanted to continue to get to know Damon.

The topic turned to literature; Damon gladly let Elena take the lead as her eyes sparkled, passionately talking about the subject.

"1984 is for sure one of my all-time favorites," she proclaimed, hints of drunkenness slurring some of her words. Damon looked at her quizzically, his eyes peeking over the rim of his glass.

"Oo, so you're a dystopian fan, huh?" Damon questioned, amused. He expected Elena to be into mushy shit like Pride and Prejudice or something. "Isn't that ending a little bleak for you, little miss I-help-strangers-off-the-street?" Elena shoved his shoulder jokingly, Damon smirking in return.

"It's because it's bleak is what makes it so good!" she dramatically waved with her hands. "You want everything to be alright in the end, you want Winston and Julia to be together. . . " she trailed off, her voice softening, eyes averting into a thousand-mile stare, ". . . but then that end. It's like it punches you in the right gut. The despair feels so real since you had so much hope to begin with."

Elena's chocolate eyes returned to Damon's; his face unreadable as he looked at her. "I like books that make me feel, even if it hurts. . . " her voice was quiet; Elena stared at his eyes, captivated by those sky-blue eyes that just made her want to stare at him forever; the woman was being shamelessly sucked into him.. ". . . Because that's the reality of things."

Her last few words were barely a whisper as Damon had leaned in far enough on the counter so that his breath tickled her face; she could smell the bourbon on his lips, the intoxicating smell making her want to explore his mouth just like in her fantasies. Damon looked equally entranced, his eyes half-lidded and his luscious lips slightly parted. The man placed his glass silently on the counter, then dragging his hands down her sides to lay gently on her waist; he pulled them closer together. His touch scorched Elena's skin, an eruption of butterflies in her stomach.

Elena's hand leaned against his chest, feeling the bandages beneath his skin and . . .his heartbeat.

It's so fast.

The brunette's own heart synchronized with the man who was gazing down at her. Damon's hands were firm, but gentle; comforting, but electrifying.

"Elena . . ." he whispered huskily, the vibrations of his deep voice like a purr.

"I-"

.

Ring Ring Ring

.

"Are you fucking kidding me. . ! " Damon gritted out, grimacing.

Damon forced his hands to move to reach his phone in his back pocket, stepping away from Elena. She took in a breath, missing his warmth instantly. Her heart was still running a million beats a minute; Elena nervously looked away, brushing her hair through her fingers and nervously shifting in the bar stool.

I was going to kiss him.

Damon turned around so her view of the phone was blocked as he put it to his ear. "What the fuck do you want?" he quietly seethed, but offered an apologetic smile to Elena who sheepishly got up to return the drinks to the kitchen. When she returned, his phone was away but that apologetic look remained. The raven-haired man picked her bouquet back up. Walking slowly over, he let his hands linger on her as he handed it back to the woman. Damon paused, gazing into those chocolate eyes.

He leaned down to her cheek and planted a small kiss. She could feel electricity coursing through her, hot and striking.

"Got to go, Elena." he spoke slowly, softly; Damon smiled one final time before walking out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Elena holding her cheek like she had just been branded.

"Sorry to move up the flight time like this, mate," Klaus apologized as they began boarding the plane. They were clad in dark hats and sunglasses, trying to blend in with the crowd as much as possible with the 9 am crowd. Damon scoffed.

"Lemme guess," Damon pouted his lips, tapping his finger to his chin in fake wonder. "Me-thinks it was because of a certain Barbie on this flight."

Ahead of them, Caroline shuffled along with a pink carry-on suitcase; the blonde knew they were there, but chose to ignore them entirely. Damon only snickered as Klaus elbowed him in the ribs.

Eventually the two men boarded their plane, their seats separated. Damon had gotten a seat right next to, you guessed it-

"Oh there is no way I'm sitting next to you," she crossed her arms and huffed.

"It's just an hour, Blondie, calm your tits," the remark only made Caroline even angrier; Damon ignored her and set his things in the overhead compartment and took his seat by the aisle. She continued to pout, Damon entertained by it.

"Elena should've left you," Caroline unfurled her arms, grimly laughing. "I still can't believe the Damon Salvatore got bested by some high school thugs."

"Oh, I think I got them in the end," Damon grinned at the memory. After Elena had kicked him out, his first item on his to-do list would be to pay a visit to his little friends. It wasn't hard to find them; they were all huddled together in a crack house at the edge of town. Twenty unconscious bodies later and Damon felt good as new!

"Why come back at all? Why did you listen to Klaus?" Caroline now in full interrogation mode. Damon rolled his eyes but shrugged.

"He's family, and I was bored," he replied simply. Caroline scoffed; she wasn't convinced, but she relented. The girl paused for a moment. He winced at the next question he knew was coming.

"Why stay?"

Damon's eyes shut, immediately imagining the girl he desperately still wanted to be with at that moment. He remembered the way she smiled, the way her chocolate orbs sparkled with such a pure innocence, the tinkling beauty of her laugh and voice. When he held her earlier that morning. . . he could still remember the softness of her body against his, her intoxicating smell of jasmine and honey pulling him under her spell even further. Just a day with Elena and he was hooked.

"She reported it, you know," Caroline said quietly, Damon's eyes snapping open to look at the blonde who was now mellowed out completely. "Anonymously, to keep you safe." Damon had to hold back a genuine smile. Of course she did.

"My mom's got that whole situation covered already though, of course." She pursed her lips, Damon raising an eyebrow at her questioningly. "She's my friend, Damon- my best friend. She's. . . innocent," the blonde looked ahead; Damon did too, both of them gazing at nothing in particular. "I will do anything to protect her." Her voice was quiet and firm.

Damon didn't reply. Only shutting his eyes and pretending to go to sleep.

Me too.

Murmurs and whispers erupted as a man clad in a deep black suit walked through the halls. His usually messy raven hair was neatly combed; his icy eyes were deadly to anyone who tried to look him in the face. Klaus, Caroline, as well as a few other trusted confidantes trailed behind him. The man strode with power, confidence, regality - and that was exactly what he was: their king.

"I thought he was dead. . . ?!"

"No, I heard he got arrested and put into maximum security in Perpignan, France. . . !"

". . .But I heard he eloped with the Estonian princess. . !"

"That can't be him. . . ?!"

". . . It is. . .!"

". . . il Tristo Mietitore. . . !"

He finally reached the board room of the secluded Salvatore Estate; pushing the double doors open, a long table of people in equally sharp, black suits were seated. They silenced as they stared at him, but quickly rose to their feet to respect his presence. The head chair was empty, just as he had left it those years ago.

With a knowing smirk, he slowly strode to the head of the table, leaving the doors open to his "court." He plopped himself down on the big leather chair, motioning for everyone to sit as well. They still stared at him like a ghost.

Damon's lips curled into his signature smile, but his eyes were cold.

"Mettiamoci al lavoro."

The sun was already breaking as Elena entered her apartment; she glanced at the glowing clock on her stove. 5:45 am. Elena was frozen to that spot in the grill for what felt like a lifetime; even now, she still felt the burn of his lips on her cheek. She touched her hand to it unconsciously, another blush slipping over her cheeks.

Elena sighed, plopping the bouquet down on her kitchen counter. She saw a small bright yellow roll of paper plop out of the middle of the flowers, having been hidden in there the whole time. She picked up the small roll of paper, unfurling it; she found a sticky note as well as the happy green face of Benjamin Franklin.

Thank you for taking care of me, Elena. But really, I'm not homeless; so here's your money back, with interest, of course.

-D

Elena laughed, her heart warming. He must've slipped this in when she was in the kitchen. She flipped the note over to find a cell phone number, finding that it differed from the one Damon had used to call her with earlier.

PS:

Call this number whenever you need me. I will always answer for you.

Translation(s):

"Questo è un ordine." - This is an order.

il Tristo Mietitore - The Grim Reaper

"Mettiamoci al lavoro." - Let's get to work.

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