Elena stands alone in the clearing, the moon nearly full overhead. She shifts from foot to foot, checking her phone occasionally, even though the light of the screen makes her wince.

She's been waiting almost thirty minutes.

Not that he's late. He's never late. Elena is the one who arrived thirty minutes early. (She saw an opportunity to slip away and took it.)

Between one blink and the next, he materializes a few feet in front of her. She doesn't jump in shock - though she's sure her heart skips a beat. The woods are dark, but the light of the moon is enough - it's unmistakably him.

"Elijah," she whispers, her entire body sagging with her relief.

"Elena," he greets her, taking a few steps closer. "You're hurt." He pulls out a handkerchief and reaches up slowly - giving her a chance to pull away - before wiping lightly at her hairline.

The white cloth comes away stained red.

"It's worse than it looks," Elena tells him, trying to keep her tone light - unbothered. "Head wounds always bleed a lot."

He gives her a sharp look. She figures it doesn't please him that she's familiar enough with the way different wounds bleed to comment on it.

"Who did this?" Elijah asks her calmly. She isn't fooled. Elijah rarely betrays his violent impulses - at least not before he grips a heart in his hands or slaps a head right off.

"An accident," she tells him, because it was, in a way. Stefan is still struggling with his blood lust, and she knows that Damon didn't mean for her to fall and hit her head when he jumped in between them. It's enough of the truth that Elena doesn't feel guilty protecting the Salvatores - and Elijah doesn't call her on it.

Elijah takes off his suit jacket and unbuttons his shirt, rolling his sleeve up in precise motions. He pauses, a moment before biting the pale skin of his wrist. "I would heal you," he tells her, though it sounds almost like a question.

Elena know that if she declines, he will respect her refusal.

She doesn't decline.

"Thank you," she says, because her head hurts - and she doesn't want Elijah to be distracted by the thought of her being injured when she tells him what she is going to tell him.

He bites into his wrist, and brings it to her lips. She takes a small sip, and when she pulls away, the wound has already closed. He brings the clean side of his handkerchief to her lips, gently wiping away his own blood from around her mouth, before he wipes his wrist clean.

Elena imagines she can feel his blood running through her veins - healing her head and various minor aches and pains. His blood always affects her more than Damon's, or Stefan's, or Caroline's. It's like electricity coursing through her body - energy and vitality and ilife/i.

She takes a step forward, leans up on her toes, and presses a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. Her eyes flutter shut as kisses her back immediately, chasing after her lips as she lets her weight rest on her heels, slowly pulling away. She gives him another peck, opening her eyes to gaze up into his dark eyes.

"Hi," she whispers, greeting him as she should have when he first appeared in the clearing - as she would have, if he wasn't distracted by her injury.

"Hello there," he murmurs back, something like amusement in the tilt of his lips. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Elena tells him. "I hate that we have to sneak around. I - I don't want to sneak around anymore."

His eyes search her face intently, as if gauging her sincerity. "There will be many unhappy with our relationship," Elijah tells her, repeating the main reason she's given him for her hesitance to go public with their relationship.

"We'll deal with it together," Elena tells him, repeating the reassurance he's given her - over, and over, and over again.

Elijah smiles, gently brushing her hair back from her face. "Always and forever," he says.

"I love you too," Elena murmurs. She laughs as he sweeps her off her feet and into a passionate kiss.