Heey! On this note I just wanted to thank you all for the feedback I'm getting, it's making me write a lot more, even with the finals in college, so yeah.
Anyway, let's get to the chapter, shall we?
I hope you like it!
Chapter 05: Love really hurts without you
DAMON POV
The Grill is on fire tonight. Ok, fine, my bar-restaurant is always crowded, but today is a special day because there's a colorful lettering hanging in the middle of the place with Little Gilbert's name — it's his goodbye party. Yeap, the kid will fly to the City of Light in the morning, to chase his dreams. And, even though I keep teasing about how he isn't that great the whole time, it is a fat lie. Comics were never my thing, Stefan took the geek brother title to himself, and yet, this graphic novel Jeremy created got me awake through an entire night because I couldn't put it down before finishing it. So, yeah, Elena may be the one doing all the crying tonight, but I'm just as proud and happy for the kid as she is.
— How you doin', golden boy? — I smile at Jeremy who's getting himself a drink with Rose. — Already frightened about not having me around to look after you?
He laughs. — I'm gonna miss you, too, Damon.
— And I thought I was the golden boy. — Says Stefan, turning from his seat at the bar. Caroline, who's right besides him, is rolling her eyes at me. One thing Blondie and I have in common: we love to piss off my brother.
I snort. — Oh, come on, Stef, don't be jealous. — And, patting Jeremy's shoulder, I add. — It's his big night.
Once again, we are interrupted. Only this time it's by Kol Mikaelson. Not that I'm complaining about his arrival because he's coming followed by my two favorite girls, who also happen to be his college friends and coworkers.
The three residents didn't get a night off from the hospital, so they arrived a bit late. Especially because I know Kol and Bonnie made sure Elena would stop at home to change to a night dress before heading here. Again, no complaints here, my soon-to-be roommate looks stunning in that black tissue that falls perfectly around her legs and curves.
If I'm still freaking out about the fact I'm going to share my apartment with her? Damn right I am. But it's a good panic, nonetheless.
— Jer will have his real big night getting drunk with me at the top of the Eiffel Tower. — Kol says, winking at the boy who shakes his head not daring to agree with his sister standing right there.
Elena narrows her eyes. — I still think it's a bad idea you're the one who's going to help with the change.
— You think? — I tease, and she smiles.
— Cupcake, I'm using my holiday for this. — Kol says, pouting. — Shouldn't you be thanking me?
Bonnie chuckles. — Yeah, if getting her brother wasted is a synonym for help now, sure.
— The brother is right here. — Jeremy reminds them, not so glad to be the main topic of the conversation even though it is his day. — And I have a full schedule to follow, already on my first week, there will be no time to get drunk, it doesn't matter if Kol is the one hanging with me.
— Ouch. — I said.
But Peter Pan still whispers. — We will see about that. — To which he receives a playful punch in the chest from Elena.
Announcing that he wants to win some money at the pool table, Jeremy ends the talk about his drinking activities and takes Kol and Elena with him. — He's lucky the bucks will go to him anyway. — I say to my brother while I watch them get together around the playing spot. — If she can beat me at the pool, they are screwed.
Stefan makes a disapproving "tsc-tsc" sound and gives me an exaggerated sigh. — I can't believe you're still in love with her.
I open my mouth to protest, looking at Bonnie, because yeah, we are friends, but she's also Elena's; and since I'm very much aware that girls tops boys in the friendship department, always, I'm not exactly a chatterbox about my feelings when I'm around her.
Surprisingly, or maybe not that much, BonBon just laughs at my worried face. — Damon, please. Everyone knows you love her.
Even Caroline agrees. — It is true. I mean, it was crystal clear the second I saw the way you looked at her.
— Thanks, Barbie.
Stefan laughs heartily, but quickly stands up for me. Or it was what I deduced from his serious look, apparently I was wrong because what comes out doesn't flatter me at all. — It's fine, you were never really good at hiding your feelings. — Then he turns to the girls. — You should see him as a kid. God, such a moody.
— Is this a "20 minutes laughing at Damon" game and I wasn't aware? — I complain, so done with them all.
— If it is that I'm sure as hell joining in. — A known british accent says, and by the flirting tone on it I already know it's Enzo's, not Klaus'. Which, of course, could be deduced by the fact that the only Mikaelson who shows up at little brothers' gatherings is the Peter Pan who is making my girl laugh at the pool table.
Enzo puts his arms around Bonnie's waist, whispering a not so low "Hello, gorgeous" in her ear, making her giggle. Who would guess they make such a perfect couple? But, then again, she wouldn't be such a good friend of mine if she couldn't misbehave. My buddy winks at Caroline, then waves at me and Stefan. — So, why are you mocking my pal?
And I'm already groaning because I really don't need another traitor friend to join them in the "How to torture Damon" hour.
— Uh. — Enzo studies my reaction, bowing slightly to the center of our group to speak conspiratorially. — Is this about Elena?
This makes everyone crack into laughter and I'm already regretting not accepting Little Gilbert's pool request. At least, I would be gazing at Elena while they make fun of me, and quietly,because thank God no one dares to say a word about my unrequited feelings to her.
It is Bonnie who intervenes. — Alright, I think we have exhausted the topic for the night. — I mouth a "Thank you" when the group is not looking at her. She nods and turns to Enzo, her hands resting in his chest. — Can we dance?
He smiles cockly. — Did I ever deny you anything, goddess of mine? — And he takes her hand in his, guiding her to the dance floor.
Barbie touches Stefan's arm and says with a much gentler voice than Bonnie's. — Can we, too?
And I know my brother truly loves her because he does agree, even though he hates dancing; and he's already walking with her towards the very affectionate couple. My bartender, Rose, smiles sympathetically at me, not mentioning how unfortunate I am, and pours me a glass of bourbon I didn't need to ask.
As the drink starts to burn down my throat, leaving a honey bittersweet taste in my tongue, my mind drifts to this appointment I had last week. Normally, I would be thankful with the "no-Elena" choice of path that my brain decided to take, if it wasn't to this particular patient.
Adam Young, a six years-old boy with dark-blonde curls and grey eyes, was sitting in front of me, incessantly rolling his finger in a Peter Parker's shirt. It was not our first appointment, but, honestly, on the day I met him I was more concerned about reassuring that he was safe, that I would be there for him and that the ladies in the orphanage were trustworth.
Today, however, I really wanted to give him something else. And, the perks of having a nerd brother is that I know how to talk geek with the kids, so I took advantage of his superhero t-shirt as a way of trying to get to him, even if just a little bit. — With great powers comes great responsibilities, right?
He didn't look at me, but his movements stopped so I knew he was listening. I kept going, rather gently this time, letting go of the playful tone now that I had his attention. — If I remember correctly Spider-boy saw something bad happening with a family member.
I didn't want to make him talk about it, neither did I need to check what his reaction was going to be, it couldn't possibly be a good one after everything that happened. But, sometimes, it helps to use metaphors, to navigate through someone else's story before actually getting on your own. And, mostly, I just wanted to let him know he was going to survive this, even if the only way of saying it was using a Marvel tale.
Knowing I did have permission to act differently since he was a kid who has gone through a lot, I got up off my chair and kneeled next to his tiny armchair. — It was difficult for him, for Peter. — I placed my right hand at the arm of the chair. — But he made it through because he was a hero; and he was a hero even before the spider bite, even before putting up a suit.
Adam's grey eyes stared at me expectantly and I saw the tears forming in them. — Do you know why, Adam, he was a hero? — He shook his head shyly, and I said the next words with every emotion I was actually feeling. — Because he survived. Because he never gave up.
Satisfied with the fact he at least listened this time, which was a real progress from the scared boy that feared looking into people's eyes when the orphanage brought him to his first appointment, I finished our talk and took him back to his room. But, before leaving, I went to the kids' session in the library and picked up a spider-man comic for him.
At the moment I saw the news about the boy's misfortune, I knew I wanted to be the one to help him. Due to all the contacts I have and the little detail I'm quite famous in the Psychology field, it wasn't hard to manage everything. Besides, the lawyers that were handling his case were relieved to know I wouldn't charge a thing. So I signed a document promising to take care of the kid's needs during the whole treatment, which probably meant until he's eighteen. This kind of trauma takes time to heal, and since he will be living in an orphanage the whole period, I guess it will be even harder.
But I didn't take his case just because I have a soft spot in my heart for messy kids. I do, however there was something in his eyes that pulled me in. This non-colored grey with a strange old aura, that to most it would mean loneliness, hopelessness, lostness. But, to me, it held a hidden brightness that I needed to make it bloom, that I needed to put it out of its darkness. Because I may be terrible at dealing with my own shadows, but I'm great at guiding others in their hero's journey.
In my own life, there are a million of right paths, a thousand possibilities for me to take, and all of them, I repeat, all of them, will take me directly to her dark chocolate eyes.
Elena Gilbert, my Queen in the action who does know every trick in the book and it is damn well turning me on. And, yes, I'm mentally singing an 80s ballantyne in my head like the good old fashioned lover-boy that I am. Oh, Jane Austen was not wrong, alright, we are all fools in love. And, please, don't mock over the fact I know all these references, don't make it any more embarrassing than it needs to be.
Anyway, the reason for my cheesy traits that most definitely don't fit in my character is now walking towards me with a victorious smile in her red stick-painted lips. — I won!
I raise my glass of bourbon to her. — I knew you would.
She laughs proudly and a bit shyly. Her hand goes to my drink and she takes it from me to down the rest of it, the alcohol dripping on her long fingers. I give her a laugh of my own as I watch her put the glass on the bar's counter; she giggles and jumps in my arms. I hug her back instantly, closing my eyes for a brief moment, smelling her in.
And I don't give a fuck that all my friends are watching of the corner of an eye like they always do, because when she drifts apart to look at me she's the only thing I see.
— I really missed you, Damon. — She says, looking deep into my eyes.
I smile, taking a seat at the bar, my hands pulling her close to me by her hips. — Yeah? A week of hard readings and long night shifts in the hospital and you already missing me? — She rolls her eyes, and I chuckle. — Well, it's a good thing we are gonna be roomies then.
She points a finger at me threateningly. — No back away now, bad boy.
I puff. — Have you met me?
Elena laughs, taking my hand in hers. — Come on, let's dance.
I try to ignore how right it feels when she calls me like that, curiously minutes later after the two other girls of our group did the same thing with their respective boyfriends. I follow her, without wasting my chance to tease. — You are eager to steal me all to yourself, huh?
She gives me a look while she leads me to the dance floor. But it's only when her hands are closed around my neck and mine are holding her waist that she answers, with a nonchalant shrug. — We didn't get the chance to dance together at Mikaelson's party. And no one can lead me like you do.
— Shhh, keep your voice low, or Peter Pan will be hurt. — I twist her, quickly pulling that gorgeous body back to mine.
— Kol knows you're the only one for me. — She says, and I need to remind myself I'm nothing but her best friend and she only means it platonically.
But with James Arthur singing "I knew I loved you then, but you'd never known, because I played it cool when I was scared of letting go", it's really hard to not let it hit me. Because we're slow dancing in a synchrony that confirms all her theories about us being the perfect match on the dance floor. Because she moves with me like we're one, like she was made to be in my arms, like she's my second skin. And it's killing me that I'm not allowed to pull her into a kiss.
And, of course, there's the little detail that she is touching me. Her hands are moving slowly in my back, lingering here and pressing there; and although it's not deliberately, I mean she probably doesn't even know what she's doing, which puzzles me completely because her body shouldn't respond to mine like this… Still, it drives me crazy.
She drops her face on my shoulders, resting on it, and if the longing I feel for this girl is already huge on a daily basis, when we dance like this it intensifies and aches to the point it goes at least three steps above heaven. I can't believe I've been in love with Elena for five years, and, at the same time, I couldn't see things going any other way.
We dance two more songs, never letting go of each other; whether it's a slow rhythm or not, she's always coming back to my arms. Then someone taps the mic and Kol's voice breaks the spell. Elena drifts apart, placing a kiss on my cheek, and I grab her hand to guide her to where her slightly drunk little brother is getting ready to do a speech.
Jeremy kicks Peter Pan away with a laugh and a punch, taking the microphone to himself. And Elena's eyes may be focused on her brother now, but her hands are still tangled in my arm; which makes me feel a little less guilty for having such deep feelings for her, because, even as a friend, I know she can't ever stay too far away from me as well.
— Thank you everyone for coming. — Jeremy's voice is rougher than normal because he clearly doesn't have his sister's tolerance to alcohol. — And, honestly, I would just like to make a toast. — He's holding a glass of some drink that's dripping all over his fingers, and not in a charming way like when it happened with Elena, it's bathing his hands. — A toast to the best friends I could have, whoever they will be when I meet them in Paris.
I chuckle at Elena's disapproving gasp. — I taught him well. — I whisper next to her ear, and she just squeezes my arms to shut me up.
Little Gilbert turns to Kol, then to his buddies from downtown because the kid needed to worry Elena a little bit by bringing his junkie friends to the party. — I will try to leave my rebel years behind just so I won't betray our Losers Club.
I'm pretty sure this is a Stephen King's reference, but I was never into horror movies, or horror books for that matter, especially those ones that involve clowns. Possess kids and creepy dolls? Hell yeah, just don't put a murder with a painted face in front of me and I'm all in.
Jeremy turns to me. — I will never be able to thank you enough for teaching me how to cheat in class, punch douchebags and make martinis to flirt with girls. — He lists. I laugh hard, the kid is definitely drunk. — You are my coolest big brother, Damon.
I whistle, briefly letting go of Elena's hand to shout with my fingers cupping my mouth. — You rock, Little Gilbert.
— Oh, enough with this "Little Gilbert" crap. — He scolds me, shifting his gaze to the girl in my arms. — And I have no words to describe how lucky I am to have you as my sister. I would say I'm gonna miss you but I'm sure you will be following me in the next plane just to make sure I'm eating properly and sleeping regularly.
I rub Elena's arm comfortingly when she starts to cry. It's not the first tears of the day, Jeremy told she already woke up an emotional wreck, and it sure won't be the last drops either.
Jeremy raises the glass, directing his last air-toast to us all. — I don't know how I will move on without you guys. — He stops dramatically. — Oh, wait… I just did. Cheers, everyone. Thank you!
He stumbles out of the table Kol had put him in, and Elena is scolding me for ruining her brother's manners. — Hey, at least I did good to his sense of humor.
We are the first ones Jeremy comes to talk to, after Kol messes with him, that is. I congratulated his speech, hugging him tight because I had always been against that weird manly hug with a tap in the back kind of thing. He goes to hug his sister even tighter. And, with Elena fighting some more tears in his arms, he says to me. — Look after her, will you?
— Come on, you know "taking care of Elena" is my full-time job. — I wink at her. And we both watch as Kol and the boys take Jeremy from us to where the music is louder.
Elena's back in my arms when she says. — He's going to be alright, isn't he?
— Yeah, he will. — I kiss the top of her hair.
And I meant it.
Jeremy did want to keep hanging around with his gang the whole evening, but he had a plane to catch in a few hours, and even I agreed with Elena that he needed to get some sleep before heading to the airport; in opposition to Kol's argument that it was his last night before responsibilities eat him up. Yeah, like Peter Pan wasn't going to take Little Gilbert to the dark side as soon as they were out of Elena's prying eyes.
What is happening to me with all this geek knowledge I seem to have? Growing up with Stefan clearly affected my cool personality way more than I thought.
If Elena crying at the party wasn't enough to convince you of how much of a Cancer girl she is, then I'm sure her sobbing at the airport will. She was holding a breathless Jeremy, mumbling for the thousandth time he needed to call her as soon as he stepped out of the plane. Kol, on the other hand, was rolling his eyes, impatiently to leave; so I stepped in to give the kid my own and last goodbye hug, proceeding to shoo him away so they could finally walk towards the plane, or I swear they were really going to miss the flight.
Jeremy smiled happily and excited, waving farewell to us both. He did look back before being pulled by Kol, because he is a Gilbert, after all, and they are always getting nostalgic over the past, even the past that is yet to come because that's their level of attachment.
Elena and I stayed standing there, looking at the place where Jeremy had been just a few minutes ago, a space that had been quickly replaced and occupied by the endless come and go of other families, other friends… And, after what it could have been seconds or centuries, Elena sighed, drifting away from my protective hug. — Shall we go to our place? — She asked with a smile, emphasising the pronoun that made my heart flutter.
I smiled back, widely. — I thought you would never ask.
However, when we got into our apartment, there was an old lady with grey-silver hair and blue-ocean eyes waiting at the doorstep. Dear reader, meet Lilian Salvatore, the only other woman besides Elena that I truly love, also known as my mother.
I wasn't going to hide my surprise since I wasn't expecting her visit. Especially when it's Elena's first day here, after a night that got us both immensely tired. But, I wasn't going to hide the smile that appeared so easily in my face either, when I wrapped my arms around her, lifting Mama from the ground and spinning her playfully.
I put her back to the floor and she slapped my arm. — You never learn, do you, boy?
It's Elena who answers. — No, he doesn't.
My mom smiles softly, happily hugging her too. Yeah, everyone is hugging everyone in this damn chapter and I feel like I'm stuck in an awfully, albeit strangely nice, rom-com drama.
— It's so good to see you, bambina. — Mother says warmthly to Elena, turning to look at me with a proud smile. — She's even prettier than the last time I saw her.
— It shocks me, too. — I agree, happy to boost Elena's ego because it is true.
Elena laughs, blushing. — It's good to see you, too, Mamma.
I smile at the exchange.
When I first took Elena to hang out at my parents' home during this free weekend we had, back in our college days, these two talked for hours and hours like they had known each other since forever.
See, mother always wanted a girl; and Elena with her doe eyes, gentle personality and love for classic literature fulfilled all of her pleas, becoming the daughter of her dreams. And, because the girl had lost her own parents, she was more than happy to call mine "Mama" and listen to the stories about her youth. And I don't even need to begin to talk about how my best friend instantly hated my father when she saw how poorly he treated me, making fun of all I wanted to accomplish at the time.
Both things just made me love her even more.
Before my girls could start chatting in the hall, I used my keys to unlock the door. — I was about to cook breakfast for Elena, — I said, turning the lights on in my sweet little place and glancing at my mother. — Do you want eggs with sausage, too, Mama?
— The Italian ones?
— With roasted tomatoes, yes.
She smiles. — Then go off to put that apron on, boy.
I coughed because my passive-aggressive impantience sure didn't come from dad. — Right, but let Elena take a shower, ok? We just dropped Jeremy in the airport, she must be dying to change clothes, but she's also too kind to tell you that.
— Like we are not close enough for her to tell me anything she wants. — Lilian rolls her eyes, and I laugh. But her attention is entirely focused on Elena, and to think she came here in the first place to visit me! — I'm glad to see you here, bambina. Damie loves having you around, you know.
Elena laughs. — I hope he does since I will be around a lot now.
Mother gives me a questioning look, I shrug, answering like isn't this much of a big deal, because it really isn't, and, at the same time, it can be the one thing that will change it all. — She's moving in, Mama. You just walked in on her first day as owner of the place, in fact.
— I'm not owning anything, Damon. — Elena says, not having the faintest idea she owns everything that is mine, my heart including. She is smiling at my mother when she explains. — My brother moved to Paris to study in this great art school, and, since I needed a roommate… — She trailed off.
— Oh. — Mother says a bit disappointed.
And, of course, Elena notices. — Do you think it was a bad idea? — She asks really, really low, suddenly insecure about it.
I was going to interfere because I know it's not at all what my mother meant, but I should have known better that my Salvatore queen had always been quicker than me.
— No, my dear. — She grabs Elena's hands and gives her a kind reassuring smile that reminds me so much of Stefan's. I may have her eyes and good-looks, but her fondness went straight to my baby bro. On the other hand, I got the bad temper of the father I had always hated. — I think it's great you're moving in. Damon needs you around. But I must admit that, for a moment, I thought you two were finally getting together. — She raises a brow to add, as if we hadn't both understood. — Romantically, I mean.
Elena is blushing like crazy now. Thanks, Mama.
And my best friend is also quickier than me. God, I'm losing it all the rounds to these two ladies, and for the first time I'm not liking it. — I love him like a brother.
Ouch.
— It's a good thing you're my bambina, then. — And because, like me, she can't help herself, she adds. — But we are all childrens of God in the end, aren't we?
I laughed, Elena laughed, and the tension left the air at the same speed it came in.
I agreed to take a bath right after Elena because mother wouldn't tolerate having me cooking her breakfast while I was still wearing the clothes with which I had gone to the airport. No, it didn't help me to state that she was wearing her clothes from the airport, too, because that woman is just as stubborn as I am.
Well, after that, my best friend made her way to take a shower, and I was left in the living room with my mother looking at me with a smile I wasn't able to read.
I frown. — What?
— She loves you, too, you know.
I groaned. Not you, too, Mama. — Like a brother, you heard.
But she was still smiling weirdly when her hands reached to caress my cheeks. — You're too young, mio ragazzo, and she may not know it yet, but I can promise you that she's head over heels in love with you too. It is in her eyes. — And mother said with so much certainty, I almost dared myself to believe in it.
Soon, we were eating in my kitchen, laughing as my mother told us about this old man she was flirting with on the plane, because, the greatest news ever, she is divorcing father. I offered for her to stay here too, but she shook her head telling me that nonna already booked a first class ticket to Italy for her to travel in the weekend, hence why she came here to see me. And I'm not even joking when I say even Elena couldn't pretend to be sorry when she announced the separation. It was about time, she deserves so much more.
I'm laughing content when Elena frowns at me. — You have a little bit of chantilly… — She touches her own lips to show me where it is, but before I can wipe by myself, she does it for me. — C'mon here. — She says, stretching herself above the table and using her fingers to clean the chantilly in the corner of my mouth. And I swear I'm not shitting with you about this, you can even ask Mama, she fucking licks the thing from her fingers.
Mother is giving me a look that I'm pretty sure you can translate on your own. But it's only when I go inside the house to grab Elena's first day gift that I let myself believe in what my mother is trying to say to me, not just today, but since she met my best friend, her bambina.
It was my house's key with an Apollo 11 keychain in reference to the first show we marathoned together.
Fox Mulder was shrugging nonchalantly about how it was just a pretty cool keychain, but Dana Scully knew it better. She knew he was trying to say, in his own adorable and dorky way, that she was so much more than his FBI partner, so much more than a coworker and a friend, and what that little thing actually meant, all that it entitled. Because in all he had ever achieved, she was the extraordinary woman that made it all possible. Just like Elena is mine.
Elena smiled so widely in a reaction to the gift it lit her whole face. Because her flame just burns brighter, warming up it all inside of me; she has always been so much more alive than anyone else, just as she is so much more than a friend, than a partner in crime and a roommate. And, when this light was sparkling in her eyes, to me, I believed in everything I shouldn't, in everything she wasn't saying, but that for this one moment, it was there, as clear as the sky.
I believed it all, because I wanted to believe in us, but mostly, because the skeptical partner of Mulder was right: we must dare to dream, and Elena Gilbert is my only dream, ever.
SO HERE'S THE THING. I mentioned I'm writing a lot more, right? Weeeell, I'm kind of adding two chapters in the middle of the ones I've already written so I'm using this as an opportunity to ask: is there anything you guys would like to see? Especially in their roommate's dynamic. Or any secondary characters you would like to see more?
If you do, pls let me know; I would love to spoil you all a little bit.
And yes, Mama Salvatore is #1 Delena stan ;)
Thank you for reading. Have a nice week!