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Elena had barely slept.
Which wasn't a good thing, seeing as she had to be up and active by six.

But she couldn't help it.

The whole confrontation with her father had lingered in her mind, long after all the lights had been turned out.
She was so pissed at him.

Everything was working out suspiciously well for her, Damon, and Chris, and for once, all she wanted was to just ride it out and see what happened, but Grayson wasn't going to just drop this.

It wasn't fair.

After all this time, and all of the crap they'd had to deal with, she thought that they'd earned the right to attempt to make this whole family thing work, but it would be impossible if her father insisted on breathing down their necks.

She'd have to talk to him again.
Really talk to him.
Because whether he liked it or not, Damon was going to be apart of her life.

He...loved her.
Still.

She'd been stunned to hear him admit it last night, to Grayson, but Damon wasn't casual with his words.
Not to say he wouldn't have a fresh perspective later.

She hadn't said it back, she remembered. She hadn't assured him that she felt the same.
But did she?

She'd always loved him, of course, and because of Chris, she always would, but was she in love with him?
With Damon, the man, not Damon, her high school boyfriend?

The two were similar, but there were differences.

Damon was everything she'd always known he could be, he was the same in so many ways, still that love struck teen that looked at her as if she was everything to him.

But those blue eyes were deeper now, somehow, more complicated.
There were so many factors to take into account.

Like Chris.

He'd given them both the okay on a relationship, but part of her felt selfish, as if she was taking Damon away from him, before they'd even really gotten to know each other.

Of course, it was a silly thought, but she'd messed up before, and she didn't want to take advantage of this rare second chance she'd been given.

Slow was still good in her opinion, and maybe that's how her feelings were meant to come. Easily, calmly, without her even realizing it.

She wanted to laugh.

There was no easy with Damon. Ever.
It was a full speed, passion crashed, all at once, kind of thing.
And she couldn't deny that there were feelings of some kind sparking between them.

Which is why she hadn't invited him to bed last night.
She couldn't trust herself, not with him.

Time, she reminded herself.
Just go with it, and see what happens.

She had to remember that Damon wasn't off limits anymore.
That if she was going to give this a real chance, she had to stop worrying about protecting herself, and she had to stop hiding.

She just needed to let go, and focus on feeling.
Stop trying to rationalize through everything that happened in her life.
Even if it was easier said than done.

Finally, deciding that laying there, pondering the in's and out's of her choices, wasn't going to get anything done, she threw off her blankets and sat up.

She ran a hand through her hair, stretched her muscles, and had checked her phone, when a knock sounded on her door.

Damon wasn't sure what to expect from Elena.

Last night, she'd been a little on edge, understandably, and had kissed him after his little "love" slip.
He had hoped that was a sign of her acceptance.

Because he did love her.
So much.

And he planned on taking every day to prove it to her, starting with this morning.
He'd gotten up with the sun and had prepared coffee, hoping that she wouldn't mind it a little strong.
He'd added the cream and sugar, before walking down the hall, and quietly knocking on her door.

A scuffle, and a few light footsteps later, the door opened, revealing a clearly tired Elena.
He raised the cup in his hand, "Coffee?"

Her eyes went from flat to bright in a second, as a smile spread across her lips, "God, yes."
He chuckled, handing it to her.

She took a sip, walking back into the room, inclining her head, silently giving him permission to follow.
"Thank you," she addressed, taking another drink.
He nodded, "I figured you'd need it."

"You guessed right," she agreed, "Did you make more?"
Again, he nodded, "A whole pot."

She sauntered over to her closet, trying to decide what to wear, "Good, because I feel like I could just pour it down my throat."
He raised a brow, taking a seat at the bottom of her bed, "I take it that you didn't sleep either?"

She shook her head, "Not really...thank God for make up."
"You'd look perfect either way."
She shot him a look, but didn't comment.

He, however, was being completely honest.
Even in the short time he'd been back around her, he'd noticed how well she was aging.
She didn't need the make up.

Hell, even like this, she made his heart beat faster.

Tasseled hair, an over-sized shirt hanging off her shoulder, flashing the strap of her bra, and what appeared to be silk night shorts showing off her long dark legs...she was every man's fantasy.

And she was his.
At least, he hoped so.

She had yet to officially signal to him that she was ready to progress anywhere with their "maybe" relationship, but he could see it in her face when she looked at him.
They belonged together, and they both knew it.

She sat the mug down on her dresser, before reaching into the closet and pulling out a pair of faded jeans, and a formfitting long-sleeve blouse.

She noticed his smirk when she glanced over at him, "What?"
He shrugged, "Nothing...just...that's what you're wearing for Halloween? Doesn't seem very festive."

She grabbed a throw pillow from the bottom of the bed and playfully tossed it at him, "It's not my costume, jerk. We have to go set up this morning. The actual festival won't start until five."

"My bad," he chuckled, "Glad to see you have it all figured out."

"I do," she stated, sliding off her shorts as she spoke, "So all I need you to do is worry about breakfast, and then help me load the bags of candy, the pie, and the cookies, into the car."

"Yes ma'am," he grinned teasingly, but the greater part of his attention was lingering elsewhere.

The shirt Elena wore covered her to the top of her thighs, but when she turned to fight her jeans off their hanger, it rose ever so slightly, allowing him a glance of something lacy and pink.

He shamelessly ogled her backside, loving the way her legs curved up into shaping her ass.
God, she really was perfect.

"See something you like?" her voice called, making his eyes jump back up.
She was glancing at him, over her shoulder, and he may have blushed the slightest bit.

"Definitely," he confirmed, raking over her again, "Though you're the one doing the strip tease, so you shouldn't be surprised."
Her mouth opened for a moment, then closed, as she gathered her thoughts, "I was not strip teasing," she finally defended, "I was getting dressed, as we talked. Not my fault you can't control where your eyes go."

He narrowed said eyes, "Like you didn't give two thoughts to the fact that you're prancing around me in your underwear."
A curious look passed her face, "Actually," she looked down, "I'm still technically covered."

She pulled out the hem of her shirt, as if to confirm the fact, then she walked over to him, "And I don't prance."
He cautiously brought his hands to her waist, pulling her until she stood between his legs, "Okay, you may not prance, but I still call bullshit on the innocent act. You knew you were strip teasing."

A delicate brow lifted, "Oh really?"
He recognized the challenge in her voice, and met her head on, "Absolutely."

She pulled away from him the slightest bit, "Then maybe I need to remind you what a real strip tease looks like, Damon, then I'm sure you could compare the difference for yourself."

He blinked at her, not sure how to respond, as she grinned, then turned her back to him.
As he swallowed, her arms reached around, grabbing the bottom of her shirt.

Then slowly, agonizingly, she slipped it up, inch by inch, revealing more and more of her flawless skin, and those damn pink panties that slipped up to show the perfect curve of her ass.

Finally, the shirt lifted completely, and she pulled it over her head.
He was hard before she had even turned.

Staring at Elena was one of his favorite past times, but in that second, he couldn't have pulled his eyes from her, even if he wanted to.
She slowly turned her body, giving him a spectacular view, until she was finally fully facing him.

He greedily took her in, committing every change to memory.

Her skin was still perfect, no clues to her pregnancy lingering there, but her hips had rounded out, giving her a more mature structure.
Her legs were as smooth as always, and he had a fleeting thought that she must work out, because her muscles, even the ones in her stomach were shapely, defined.

He followed his line of sight then, up the dip in her stomach, to her breast, which were covered by a simple yellow bra.

He noted how strange it was to see a mismatched set, with the pink underwear, and had to remind himself that Elena wasn't planning on this.
Girls dressed in matching underwear when they planned on showing it off.
If they didn't, what was the point in bothering?

Elena didn't seem to mind that he was staring, practically drooling, over her body as she stood in front of him, and he had to swallow when she stepped even closer.
Her hands lifted then, one trailing down her neck, across the dip of her breast, and down her stomach.

"What's the matter?" she challenged, "No more witty comments?"
He couldn't have strung together a witty sentence to save his life, no matter the hit it would take on his ego, later.

Right now, he was perfectly fine having her like this in front of him.

She walked forward even more, taking her original position, back between his legs.
Her hands braced on either of his thighs, and she leaned down, so they were eye level, and so that her breast were even more noticeable to him, "Now that was deliberate."

He nodded, meeting her eyes, "You're right. I could definitely see the difference."
"Good," she smirked, "Now you won't make that mistake again."

She straightened, then moved away from him, heading toward the jeans she'd left on the dresser, but Damon moved quickly, grabbing her arm.

"And where are you going?"
She blinked at him, "I'm getting dressed."

"Ah, ah," he shook his finger at her, "You said you'd show me a proper strip tease."
He let his eyes fall over her, making his point, "And sweetheart, you're about two articles of clothing away from being finished."

He delighted in the blush on her face, feeling accomplished for shaking up her game.
"I feel like my point was made," she argued.

He pursed his lips, "Was it? Can you be sure? Because I'm not."
She shook her head, "Nice try, but I think you are well aware of the differences now. You even admitted it."

He shrugged, "I changed my mind."
Her eyes narrowed, "You aren't allowed to just change your mind."
"Says who?" he inquired.
"I don't know," she exhaled, "You just can't."
"But how am I supposed to know the real difference if you are too shy to finish the strip tease that I argued hard to earn."

She laughed, "Okay, you didn't earn a strip tease. I was simply showing you the style in which you can remove clothes that signify teasing or signify changing. And that, I think you are now clear on."

He smirked, "You know, if you're too embarrassed, you can just admit it?"
Her brow shot up, "I am not embarrassed!"
"Then why are you blushing?" he teased.
The red got even darker on her face, "Because you're picking on me."
"I'm not picking," he reasoned, "I'm negotiating."
"To get me naked," she shot.
He grinned, "Can't blame a guy for trying."

Her eyes set then, and they both stared at each other.

Damon could feel the tension passing between them, but he wasn't going to move until Elena decided.
And somehow, they both understood that the answer needed to be given now.

He watched as Elena swallowed, then with a look of determination, reached behind her.

A moment later, her bra fell to the floor.

Damon couldn't control himself.
His gaze automatically followed, eating up the view.

Elena in front of him, wearing only a little scrap of pink.
Her full breast lifted with each breath she took, and he could tell her heart was pounding.

But she had taken that step.
She wanted this as much as he did.

Elena tried to keep her breathing even.
It was a difficult thing to accomplish with Damon's eyes darkening, focused on her like a preadator and it's prey.

She wasn't sure what she had expected to happen.
Only that she somehow knew that was her move, and now, she awaited his.

Once his eyes had had their fill, his gaze found hers.
She fought back that damn blush.

"Come here," he commanded in that sure tone of his.
She couldn't help but obey.

In two short steps, she was in front of him, but to her surprise, he didn't lift a hand to her.
He didn't lean down, and didn't remove his eyes from hers.
She swallowed again.

"You know how I feel about this," he stated, his voice a lot softer than it had been a second ago, "You know how I feel about you."

She could only nod.

"I don't want to pressure you," he assured her, his gaze slipping, momentarily, to her body, "But I need to know what you want. Because we have an hour before Chris wakes up and if you don't stop me, I'm going to throw you back on that bed, and you wont leave it for the next sixty minutes."

His eyes were certain, dark.
He wasn't playing anymore.

And neither was she.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she nodded slowly, "Kiss me."
And he did.

Yes, evil cliffhanger, I know!
Hope you guys enjoyed :)

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