Elena stood by the window, peering out into the night. Below her the sounds
of the town rang all about. Cars passing, crickets and the occasional sound
of someone's laughter. She sighed and raked a hand through her silky blond
hair that spilled down a little past her shoulders. She was lonely, and
wrapped her arms around her, the wind ruffling the crimson silk-like
nightgown she had on. Stefan had gone to visit Bonnie, or more like dragged
by another situation. She couldn't go; she wasn't ready to face another
terrible thing. She wanted Fells Church in the past. So she had stayed,
with no company, and no idea of his return.
Suddenly the atmosphere of the room shifted and she felt that she wasn't alone. She felt this sixth sense stronger then any human could. Stefan, against his will, had changed her again to vampire form after very tiring arguments and pleading. She told him that after loosing her twice, the miracles were over. If she stayed human there was no way he could cope with the life cycle of death, permanently.
She felt her heart practically fall to her stomach as she picked up the faint hint of familiar cologne. Oh God. This is not happening. This *is* not happening. This *can't* be happening. Her mind told her frantically. Elena turned, slowly, stiffly. "Damon," was all she said.
"Elena." He said with his casual, almost lazy tone.
The cool summer breeze blew in through the open window, making strands of blond hair fly about her face. Elena pushed them away, noticing Damon's eyes never left her face.
She studied him, looking at his hair, with the colors of the rainbow reflected in them, cast by the faint light of the lamp on her nightstand. She suddenly ached to run her fingers through them. Her gaze moved to his amazing eyes. "It's been a long time."
"I know."
Elena's gaze shifted to his lips as he talked. Those velvety soft lips that she had never kissed. The thought was some how shocking. Those many pursuits Damon had done, yet he had never forced her to kiss him, he'd never even once tried to kiss her.
She put out a hand, touched his arm. Damon stepped back and his very posture was tense. As though he was trying very hard not to touch her. "Damon…."
"Don't."
"I don't understand…."
"What do you want from me, Elena? You've got Stefan, it's who you chose."
He turned to the window; he stood, but he had relaxed, as though being farther
away was relieving. He was not facing her.
"What do I want? You came in, I didn't tell you to."
There was no reply from him, and when she went closer to him he instantly stiffened again, his body self contained, controlled.
There was tension in the air. Tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.
"This is the very same way you treated me when I came back! Cold, Unemotional. Elena's voice shook.
Damon turned, his black eyes stared.
"Look at me."
He turned, slowly, dark eyes fierce. "Don't deny it Elena. You know you feel it."
The emotional tension and sexual tension in the air was blazing and she felt it and it scared her.
"And what if I said I didn't?"
He took a step closer to her. "I'd say you were lying." He spoke softly but his black eyes flashed bright with challenge.
Elena heard him take a breath. "I think you're desperate, Damon." She said coldly.
"You know nothing of what I think." He hissed.
"You're wrong. I do. You know I do."
Damon was looking straight at her, his eyes bore into hers, and this time they reflected emotion. She could sense it as well. Defeat.
She was driving him crazy. In all the time he'd been in Fells Church, he'd tried to resist her, the temptress. He had such respect and such love for her it'd been difficult. But now he was bending, succumbing to the feeling of her so close.
All those times he'd taken for granted, the few times he'd gotten close, been able to touch her slightly, or even hold her for a minute or two, seemed like nothing right now. When he'd danced with her that time in the dream it'd been perfect, they'd been perfect. Together they were one eternal burning flame of passion, desire, forbidden love.
"Stop denying it. You know you can't. You're like an open book to me, Elena."
Elena felt heat in her cheeks.
"I want you as much as you want me." His voice was low, velvety and it was making her stomach quiver and her knees weak.
He bent his face closer, brushing his lips on hers, and her whole body felt like liquid as they touched her mouth. The wildfire attraction between them blazed. Elena felt herself leaning, giving into the embrace. Falling, drowning in what she had denied herself so long. She responded to his kiss. Feeling his breath on her cheek as his mouth trailed along her neck.
"Damon this isn't right," was all she managed.
"I know".
Elena pushed off his jacket, helplessly lost in his arms, not having the strength nor will to put an end to what was happening.
He'd moved her to the bed. Damon lifted his head, and he said, slowly, almost painfully, as if he couldn't get the words out, "I love you."
They fell onto the bed, together, and the sparks blazed as he brought his lips to hers again.
Suddenly the atmosphere of the room shifted and she felt that she wasn't alone. She felt this sixth sense stronger then any human could. Stefan, against his will, had changed her again to vampire form after very tiring arguments and pleading. She told him that after loosing her twice, the miracles were over. If she stayed human there was no way he could cope with the life cycle of death, permanently.
She felt her heart practically fall to her stomach as she picked up the faint hint of familiar cologne. Oh God. This is not happening. This *is* not happening. This *can't* be happening. Her mind told her frantically. Elena turned, slowly, stiffly. "Damon," was all she said.
"Elena." He said with his casual, almost lazy tone.
The cool summer breeze blew in through the open window, making strands of blond hair fly about her face. Elena pushed them away, noticing Damon's eyes never left her face.
She studied him, looking at his hair, with the colors of the rainbow reflected in them, cast by the faint light of the lamp on her nightstand. She suddenly ached to run her fingers through them. Her gaze moved to his amazing eyes. "It's been a long time."
"I know."
Elena's gaze shifted to his lips as he talked. Those velvety soft lips that she had never kissed. The thought was some how shocking. Those many pursuits Damon had done, yet he had never forced her to kiss him, he'd never even once tried to kiss her.
She put out a hand, touched his arm. Damon stepped back and his very posture was tense. As though he was trying very hard not to touch her. "Damon…."
"Don't."
"I don't understand…."
"What do you want from me, Elena? You've got Stefan, it's who you chose."
He turned to the window; he stood, but he had relaxed, as though being farther
away was relieving. He was not facing her.
"What do I want? You came in, I didn't tell you to."
There was no reply from him, and when she went closer to him he instantly stiffened again, his body self contained, controlled.
There was tension in the air. Tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.
"This is the very same way you treated me when I came back! Cold, Unemotional. Elena's voice shook.
Damon turned, his black eyes stared.
"Look at me."
He turned, slowly, dark eyes fierce. "Don't deny it Elena. You know you feel it."
The emotional tension and sexual tension in the air was blazing and she felt it and it scared her.
"And what if I said I didn't?"
He took a step closer to her. "I'd say you were lying." He spoke softly but his black eyes flashed bright with challenge.
Elena heard him take a breath. "I think you're desperate, Damon." She said coldly.
"You know nothing of what I think." He hissed.
"You're wrong. I do. You know I do."
Damon was looking straight at her, his eyes bore into hers, and this time they reflected emotion. She could sense it as well. Defeat.
She was driving him crazy. In all the time he'd been in Fells Church, he'd tried to resist her, the temptress. He had such respect and such love for her it'd been difficult. But now he was bending, succumbing to the feeling of her so close.
All those times he'd taken for granted, the few times he'd gotten close, been able to touch her slightly, or even hold her for a minute or two, seemed like nothing right now. When he'd danced with her that time in the dream it'd been perfect, they'd been perfect. Together they were one eternal burning flame of passion, desire, forbidden love.
"Stop denying it. You know you can't. You're like an open book to me, Elena."
Elena felt heat in her cheeks.
"I want you as much as you want me." His voice was low, velvety and it was making her stomach quiver and her knees weak.
He bent his face closer, brushing his lips on hers, and her whole body felt like liquid as they touched her mouth. The wildfire attraction between them blazed. Elena felt herself leaning, giving into the embrace. Falling, drowning in what she had denied herself so long. She responded to his kiss. Feeling his breath on her cheek as his mouth trailed along her neck.
"Damon this isn't right," was all she managed.
"I know".
Elena pushed off his jacket, helplessly lost in his arms, not having the strength nor will to put an end to what was happening.
He'd moved her to the bed. Damon lifted his head, and he said, slowly, almost painfully, as if he couldn't get the words out, "I love you."
They fell onto the bed, together, and the sparks blazed as he brought his lips to hers again.