Finding out I was not pregnant made me feel afraid. Afraid of the continuing abuse, afraid of the Prophet questioning my inabilities to carry a child, afraid of what the future would hold. Every day was exactly like the last: filled with cleaning, praying, and abuse.
Some days I could hear Damon and Rebekah moaning loudly from her room. It sounded like she liked it. Did it feel good? Could it feel that way between two people? I think I even briefly smiled at the thought of one day liking it. Would I ever give in long enough to get the chance?
"Elena, fix your hair. Rebekah's family are coming over in five minutes," Damon hissed and he suddenly entered the kitchen where I stood.
"My hair looks fine," I retorted.
"I do not have time to drag your ass to your room and beat it until it's red, but I will find time later if you do not fix your hair right this minute. I am your husband. Now go before I slap you senseless," He growled, while Rebekah casually descended the staircase from her room.
I immediately obeyed, not wanting to cause a scene in front of Rebekah, who was already a far cry from a friend. I rebraided my hair, furious that he had made me start over. My hair had looked fine before. Now he was just being an ass for no reason.
Five minutes later, I heard someone knock at the door, causing me to shutter. I walked from my room to greet the guests, almost tripping over the carpet on the way. Before me were four people, all smiling as Rebekah greeted them.
"Damon, as you know, this is my brother Klaus, my brother Elijah, my mother Esther, and Elijah's only wife Jenna," Rebekah announced with a huge grin.
"Please, come join us for dinner at the table," Damon added in one drawn out breath. Rebekah's family all stumbled into the foyer before following Damon to the dining room, Caroline and I following behind.
"Where are my two little angels?" Esther asked with enthusiasm.
"Caroline is helping them get ready," Rebekah smiled.
I have to admit that it was a genuine grin. Her family meant everything to her and I could see it just in the way she talked about them.
As we all took our seats, Caroline entered with the two little boys and she helped them into their chairs. All the relatives went wild at how cute they looked, repeatedly reminded them of how grown up they looked. I plastered a fake smile onto my face, though it became painful to hold it after only a few minutes. Esther said 'grace' before we all filled our plates. The room was silent until Klaus began to speak.
"So, this must be Caroline and who is this other fine woman?" He asked, cutting savagely into his meat.
I saw Damon about to speak, but I interjected before he had a chance.
"I am Elena. I can speak for myself, thank you. I am not broken," I said in a rude tone.
"ELENA!" Damon growled, shocked by my sudden display of disrespect..
"It's fine Damon," Klaus responded and I looked over at Jenna, who was just staring at her plate until her lips separated and words formed on her mouth.
"So, Elena...How are you liking it here? Damon seems like a wonderful husband," She smiled as she spoke, holding her belly that I hadn't noticed was large with child.
I thought about how to respond to her question. Should I lie? Did I care if everyone knew the truth? I simply stared at my green beans, pushing them around with my fork. In the corner of my eye, I could see Damon's face contort in disapproval, likely with embarrassment.
"Elena, Jenna asked you a question. Answer her," He commanded, obviously trying to appear calm in front of his guests.
I continued to sit there without acknowledging anyone, playing with my food. Damon cut his meat loudly and I cringed.
"Jenna, I am so sorry. Elena isn't feeling well today, are you?" He hissed in my direction, sending chills down my spine.
With the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I rose from the table.
"You want to know what it's like here? Damon is a horrible husband. He doesn't care about me or how I feel. I would rather burn in Hell than be here another day." I was now screeching as everyone stared at me in horror.
I slammed down my silverware, causing a loud crash to reverberate through the room before I ran to my room. I smash the door, sliding the dresser in front of it to prevent Damon from entering. I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to imagine death.
I sat sobbing on my bed, not from sadness, but rather anger. How could Jenna love her life so much. What was her husband Elijah like? She didn't have sister wives yet...would it make a difference?
What must have been hours later was when I heard the house go silent. The guests must have left, Caroline and Rebekah were likely putting the kids to bed, and I could only imagine what Damon was planning to do with me. I still could not decide what to do if he came to my room.
I heard someone bang on the door, causing me to flinch in response. My heart was racing and he continued to pound his fists, screaming for me to remove the barrier keeping him out. I felt my face grow red, my mind trying desperately to think of a plan. If he somehow made it in, what would I do? Would I hide? Beg for mercy? Pray? Maybe I could escape out of my window...but where would I go? I decided anywhere was better than the hell I would endure in the next ten minutes.
With one last deep breath, I ripped the window open, using every ounce of energy to knock the screen out with my foot. It crashed to the ground outside my window and I took no time in climbing into the cutout. I positioned myself so that I was sitting with my legs draping outside the house, ready to jump.
My heart dropped when I heard the dresser screech against the wood flooring, the door suddenly wide open, a furious Damon standing in the doorway. I instantly screamed, desperately trying to slip out of the window, but my dress was stuck on something and I whimpered in panic.
"I will call the Prophet right this minute if you do not get your ass back in here," He said sternly grabbing my arms and trying to pull me back into my room. My nails scraped into the woodwork.
I was now scared, I just could not decide which scared me more; Damon beating me to death or his threat of calling the Prophet. I let go of the window, allowing him to pull me. He unhooked my dress from whatever it was stuck on and I pleaded for mercy.
He was able to drag me to the floor where he slapped me across the face with enough force to make my head snap to the side. I was still screaming hysterically as he drew me away from the window.
"I have never been so embarrassed in my life. Your behavior was disgusting," He groaned, pausing before he continued, "I feel there is no more I can do for you, Elena. I have tried everything. I think it is up to the Prophet now," He finished, his voice involuntarily shaking.
That's when I had my epiphany. If I kept defying him, no matter how much I loathed him, I would end up being disciplined by a group of ruthless men until I obeyed. I could end up being the Prophet's wife instead, which I had always gagged at the thought of. I had to make a choice right then and there.
Would I rather give in and live a pathetic, but stable life or revolt and let a life full of nothingness and unknown take over? I knew there was only one choice. I paused for a little while, the tears brimming in my eyes.
"You own me, Damon. I'm sorry. I will do whatever you say. I will submit myself to you. I-I'm so sorry," I sobbed and I stared him right in the eyes, truly ashamed of myself.
"Come here," He muttered, signaling me.
I rose from the floor, trembling from everything that had happened. I slowly, but hesitantly walked to him, just praying he wouldn't beat me. The tears continued to stream as I met his embrace. He squeezed me tightly while I sobbed, leaning down next to my ear and whispering softly.
"Thank you," He muttered, only holding me closer.
I will admit that for once in this house I actually wanted that moment to last forever. The way he just held me close, not letting go. I felt warm, I felt safe, and I felt at peace. For the first time, I enjoyed being close to him.
It is human nature to crave succor, to want to be cradled like a child. If I could have stood there longer, I would have. His hold wasn't possessive or harsh or even too soft. It was just right, so much so that I mumbled a 'thank you'.
Moments later he released me, not looking nor speaking to me before he turned for the door. I was rather shocked that he left. It was as if his arrogance had temporarily vanished, long enough that I would escape his wrath for that night.
I just stood there in shock for a good five minutes before finally convincing myself to change into my nightgown. I cleaned up the room, moving everything back to its rightful position and closing the window. It had been months, but later that night, I actually thanked the Lord.
The next morning I didn't even want to get up. I just laid there, ignoring my subconscious that coaxed me to rise from my bed. I was surprised God hadn't struck me dead for all the disobedience I had shown for the last four months with Damon. Even he probably hated me, or so it felt that way.
Half an hour later, I finally got up. I hadn't taken a shower in over a week. What was the point? I was only considering the thought because my hair was becoming greasy and my menstrual cycle had recently ended. I was a wreck and I smelled, but I had no one to bathe for, not even God.
I grabbed a clean dress and headed for the bathroom. The house seemed rather quiet, but I continued on my way without distraction. I shut the door and peeled off my nightgown that was beginning to smell. Crawling into the shower, I turned the knob until I felt the warm water drip down my body. I had almost forgotten how good it felt to shower, how good it felt to scrub my body with soap.
That's when I heard the door creak open and I felt my stomach drop. I could see his silhouette through the glass shield of the shower. My breath began to hitch.
"Damon?" I whimpered, using my arms to cover myself.
He was undressing outside of the shower, not even acknowledging me. It scared me. His clothes fell in a pile off to the side and through the blur of the glass, I could confirm that he was naked. I wanted to cry. I felt the tears brim.
That's when the glass door was pulled open and I let a sob escape. His blue eyes stared into mine, his lips in a rigid line across his mouth. My bottom lip was trembling, the warmth of the water doing nothing to soothe me.
"Hey," He whispered softly, taking a step into the the structure.
I wanted to scream out for help. Nothing could express how utterly afraid I felt. As he stepped forward, I stepped back and this went on for a fleeting moment until I was pressed firmly against the stall. He rested his left hand on my hip, his other cupping my cheek. The weird part? He was so gentle.
His eyes caught mine and although my breaths were haggard and loud, he hushed me softly. He proceeded by leaning his face forward until his lips grazed mine ever-so-slightly. I winced and he paused, but only for a moment. His lips reached out again, capturing mine, the warm water pounding against his back wildly. His eyes were closed and he compelled my lips to mimic his movements.
It felt overwhelmingly nice. It was foreign but it was enthralling, captivating, and beautiful somehow. The way our lips melted together, the way our lips worked together to create this melody. I let out a small laugh, unsure how else to react. It felt unreal.
His lips suddenly migrated: one moment they were on my cheek and then my jaw bone and then my neck. I was stifling a smile. The hand on my hip swept up my body, lighting a myriad of nerves on its way. I felt his warm breaths beside my ear and he was trying to say something.
"I'm so sorry," He hummed, kissing my ear lobe.
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I knew somehow that he meant it. Maybe in that moment I didn't understand him, but I was willing to try. Before I could speak, his lips were nipping at my own. I kissed him back, massaging his warm lips. I followed his lead and when he pulled away, he tucked his face into my neck, wrapping his arms around my body and just holding me, just like he had the last night. The only sound between us was the shower's water cascading around us.
"Please let me make you feel good," He said softly, stroking my back.
"O-Okay," I stammered.
"I won't hurt you. I promise. Relax for me, please," He whispered.
It took everything in me to believe him, but that's what faith is: trusting something that seems intangible. Damon's kindness felt too good to be true, but I needed to believe and trust. I had nothing to lose. I smiled for him and I shakily nodded my head to show my approval.
His lips moved about my flesh, trailing every inch of me. Hands roamed my body and grazed my nerve receptors with their touch. I closed my eyes, feeling my muscles relax and my heart race not out of fear, but out of how incredibly close his lips came to my breasts.
His tongue painted me, his opened-mouth kisses enlightening every inch. My nipples hardened and I felt his tongue encompass one of them. An intense sensation spread across me, something so unfamiliar. I was too distracted and when his mouth crashed against my ajared lips, I let out a gasp. He laughed and I will admit that I smiled. He wrapped his arms around me once again, sliding his hands down to my lower back and it felt incredible.
"This is how it should have been your first time...every time," He whispered.
His right hand reached down until it settled between my legs and he lightly caressed the area. I blushed and shyly tried to hide my face. His free hand held my cheek and he pulled it until I was forced to meet his gaze.
"It's okay," He told me and his lips hooked upward encouragingly.
The hand resting below my naval resumed its position and his fingers slid until they entered my netherland. I cringed, but he stroked my thigh before massaging my female parts. It felt hypnotizing and I spread my legs wider. I yearned for more and before long I couldn't keep my moans of pleasure contained.
"Damon," I whispered, almost stupefied by what he was doing to my body.
He kissed my shoulder, making a path closer and closer to my lips. He possessed them and before I could even realize what was happening, I felt him inside of me. It took me by surprise, but the intensity of the sensations that moved through me overshadowed any fear I could have conjured up.
His hands stroked me comfortingly and I relaxed further. His blue orbs looked right into mine a moment later and I felt connected to him, I felt safe. His face showed just how much energy was flowing between us and I listened to him grunt against me.
My body felt like it was floating, my mind in another world. It was the most incredible feeling and I held Damon closer to me when my legs began to give out. I was crying, I was smiling, I was soaring higher with every thrust.
"Let go," He breathed.
And I did. I whimpered, consumed by whatever divine phenomenon had consumed every aspect of my being. I was a new person and I felt reborned. His lips planted a long, yet gentle kiss on my neck and two thrusts later, he pulled out of me, his breaths heavy with vigor.
"I have to go to work," He told me between his rapid breathing.
His forehead was pressed against my own and he smiled, holding my waist and swaying us to an invisible beat.
"Finish your shower, Elena," He told me with a tad of sternness in his voice.
He unwrapped his arms from my body, stepping back and forcing me to stand on my own two feet. He turned without another word and walked out of the shower stall. I wanted to beg him to stay, but I was pressing my luck. For what it was, I couldn't thank the Lord enough for what he had given me: Hope, a new-found sense of faith, and an irrevocable amount of gratitude toward Damon Salvatore, even if this was the only kind thing he would ever do for me.