3. Ink Runs Like Blood

The wind outside the house was strong, and the gales had taken down the electricity a few moments before, plunging the world into darkness. Elena could only see his siloette at the window because of the moon, which was half covered by cloud.

Please, she pleaded with the Original silently, her eyes wide, please save me. But what could he do if he broke down that door? Overlooking the fact that he hadn't been invited, did that matter to originals, he had promised not to kill the people she cared about and she knew that also meant the monster above her. She thought she saw his arrogent lips twitch at the corners and the agony at the pit of her stomach grew stronger. This can't be it.

"I will have you," Damon snapped, his voice more animal than human, "You will be mine!" and his fangs grazed her neck. It was little comfort that she knew he wouldn't want to kill her quickly. She thought that he would take a little blood, wait, and then take a little more – do it slowly like the creatures of myth and legend. He would savour her taste because his release from her would be a release from Katherine. Katherine was making him do this; it was her fault he would kill Elena – not his.

Elena screamed as he bit her, the sound piercing the air like a pin bursts a balloon. The window blew open. The windows crashed against the walls and Klaus peered in her. It was obvious that he considered something carefully before he entered. She cannot die, he thought.

If Elena died, that would mean Katherine was doomed. He could not let that happen. Quicker than lightening Klaus caught Damon by the elbow and through him across the room into her desk. A crash of lightening tore the sky, masking the impact of his body, and for one fraction of a second a piercing light filled the room. She saw Damon's face, and it was not what she expected.

She was used to seeing arrogence in the set of his mouth, amuesment and sometimes cruelty in his eyes. But rarely had she seen him suprised.

He fell the the floor soundlessly. There was blood and ink all of his shirt when he turned onto his back. Her ink pen was sticking from his chest like a stake, it's metal nib having pierced his heart. He convulsed alittle before becoming like stone. He stared at her without seeing anything, but she thought that tears made his eye lashes thicker.

She didn't mind that ink would stain her clothes. She knelt beside his body and let her tears fall on his wasted chesk. She never meant for this to happen, and Klaus had promised to protect the ones she cared about. She had loved Damon.

"Ink runs like blood." Klaus said, motioning to her diary with his eyes.

She had written, I don't care about Damon a hundred times over in her bid to convince herself that it was the truth. She had never really meant it, If only she had admitted to her self that she loved Damon Salvatore, she could have admitted it to him.

~Le Fin~

A/N: I hoped you liked that. I might write a darker story next time, just pm me if you think it's a good idea! Please review :-)