Elena curls up on the sofa, closing her eyes and waiting for the dizziness she always feels after "donating" blood to fade so she can drive home.

The next thing she knows, she is startled awake by a loud clap of thunder, rain pelting unrelentingly against the windows. The library is completely dark; Elena can't even see her own hands as she fumbles in her pocket for her phone. She can't get the screen to light up, and she curses a bit under her breath as she realizes it must be dead.

Elena shuffles so her feet touch the floor, wondering how she could possibly find her purse and car keys in the inky darkness. She doesn't remember exactly where she put them down before the nurse that Klaus compelled started collecting her blood. She decides not to risk it, too unfamiliar with the library to feel comfortable navigating it by touch alone.

Klaus would be angry, if she injured herself fumbling around in the dark. Too much of Elena's life is spent trying not to make Klaus angry; she isn't going to risk his wrath for this.

"Klaus?" she calls softly, shivering as she realizes it is possible that he's already in the library with her. iAnyone/i could be in the room with her right now, and Elena wouldn't be able to tell.

Klaus doesn't respond, though Elena knows that doesn't mean he isn't there. She shivers at the thought of him, watching her from the darkness, smirking silently and delighting in her fear.

Elena shivers again, realizing that the temperature inside the library has dropped quite a bit since that afternoon. She thinks the electricity must be out because of the storm. She fumbles around, finding a blanket thrown over the back of the sofa, and wraps it around her.

"Elena," someone says from somewhere in front of her, making her jump in fright before she realizes that she recognizes that voice. There's only one person who says her name quite like that. (Sometimes, when she's touching herself, she can't help but think about the way he says her name, and imagine how he'd murmur it against her skin if he were the one touching her.)

"Elijah," Elena whispers, squinting as she tries and fails to see him through the darkness. Her heart pounds at the thought of him so close, alone and in the dark. (It isn't from fear.) "Do you have a flashlight?"

She hears the sound of a match being struck, and she can just barely make it out as Elijah touches the match's small flame to a candle. Then he is there, right in front of her, placing a large candlestick holder – vintage, and brass, like something out of a Jane Austen adaptation – on the side table.

"We typically have no need for flashlights," Elijah tells her, standing close enough to where she is sitting that she can watch the way the candlelight flickers across his handsome features. Though she knows just how dangerous he is, she isn't even a little frightened of him looming over her.

If anything, she's comforted by the thought that he's standing between her and whatever else is prowling in the dark. (If anything, she wants to spread her thighs and pull him icloser/i.)

"Creature of the night, how could I forget?" Elena responds wryly, smiling up at him. "Can you help me find my car keys?" As much as she enjoys spending time with him, she should be getting home. Elena never meant to stay this long; each time she gives blood, she's afraid it will be the time that Klaus decides she isn't allowed to leave.

"The storm has flooded the roads," Elijah tells her. "It would be unsafe for you to drive tonight."

Elena shivers at the thought of staying the night at the Mikaelson Mansion, and pulls the blanket tighter around her. She doesn't have anyone waiting for her at home, but at least she knows that Klaus doesn't have an invitation inside. (She'd rather be alone in the dark with Elijah there, than here.)

"You're cold," Elijah comments. "I'll light the fireplace." Elena reaches out and grabs his hand before he can walk away from her, back into the darkness where the candle's light won't reach.

Elena knows that she can no more physically move Elijah than a butterfly could move her – but he stops at the touch of her hand nonetheless. He doesn't pull away, and just waits quietly for Elena to speak. His silent acquiescence gives her confidence, and Elena laces their fingers together (he lets her!), and tugs gently. "Please sit," she requests softly.

Elijah sits. He still doesn't pull his hand away.

Maybe it is the darkness that makes her brave; or perhaps, it is the candlelight, a flicker of hope cutting through the gloom. Either way, Elena gathers her courage to ask Elijah for the one thing she's wanted from him for months: "Kiss me?" she murmurs, so quietly she almost cannot hear her own words.

But Elijah hears.

And he does.