When I wake up every morning, I wait for a minute to open my eyes, letting myself soak in the recesses of sleep for just a little while longer. When I woke up today, however, I was instantly aware of something warm in my bed. Someone warm.

Oh God. Damon Salvatore is in my bed!

Instantly, the night before flew back to me. Damon coming in drunk, me having to strip him. Sadly, it was only his shirt and not his pants and his… Jesus Christ Elena, he's your best friend!

I wish I could stomp on all of my romantic feelings and just love Damon as a friend. But it's not really possible for me right now, considering that his amazingly hot and very naked chest is pressed up against my back. It doesn't matter that I have a t-shirt on, I can still feel the heat, and the movement of his muscles (God, those muscles!) while he breathes and shifts slightly.

I can tell by his breathing that he's still asleep, tucked into my backside. There is no better feeling than this in the whole wide world. Nothing can compare to him, to the way he moves, the way he breathes, the way he speaks. I'm an idiot. I know that he'll never want to be with me; after all, he's got that Katherine bitch hanging all over him. Katherine Peirce, I hate that woman and her perfect body. Damon's been seeing her for a few months now, and under her influence he's actually become monogamous, which is quite a mystery. Damon is every woman's dream, and he knows it. He has a bed buddy or two each night, and spends most of his spare time making sure he has backups to call at a moment's notice. But since Katherine's appearance, Damon has only slept with one woman, her.

Secretly, I took a bit of comfort in the fact that Damon sleeps around like a Grade-A manwhore. Deep down he's a one woman man. He doesn't act like it, but that's only because he's scared of being hurt. He told me once that he wants the whole shebang, the house, the wife, the kids, the dog, the soccer games, the family dinners. If I asked him now, he'd deny it, but I know that's his vision for the future, not the sluts, the beer, the bars, the one night stands and the loneliness. He wants to find the right girl and settle down with her, not bang everyone from here to Timbuktu.

Yeah, he puts on his bad boy front, but he's a real sweetheart once he lets you see past his walls. He's loyal, fierce, loving and brave, his incredible attractiveness helps too. He's scared to get hurt though, and that's why he doesn't let himself get attached. He loves me, and that's pretty much it.

I knew that he would never sleep with the same woman more than once, unless he really felt something for her, and that's why I've been obsessing over his 'relationship' with Katherine. He liked her, I knew that. But was it enough to jeopardize what we have? I've always came first to Damon, because he let me in a long time ago, and I refused to get out.

He loves me like he would love a sister, fiercely protective and caring. He doesn't look at me the way I want him to, with love and longing and passion in those bright blue eyes. But I'm selfish; I'll take what I can get. If all I get from Damon is friendship for the rest of eternity, then I will be his friend, even though I'll never be happy. But now that he's been seeing Katherine, I'm worried that I'll really lose my shot. When he was fucking everything with a vagina, at least I knew his heart was safe, locked away from grabby plastic press-on nails. I knew I was still the closest to him.

With a grunt, Damon pulls away from my back, and the instant loss of warmth physically hurts my heart. Thinking that he's awake, I turn onto my back, only to find him sprawled on his, still sound asleep. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, nothing plaguing his mind, lost in his dreams. God, I am completely in love with this man. He's the reason I'm still here, the reason I breathe. The reason I've never had sex.

I grew up believing in true love and in middle school, I promised myself to lose my virginity to someone that I was in love with, envisioning a high school boyfriend. But I've only ever been in love with one boy, one man that has never felt the same way. Trust me, I tried.

During senior year, I decided to give it up to my "boyfriend" at the time, Matt Donovan. He was cute, in a boyish sort of way, and even though I had no feelings for him, I decided it was high time that I forget about true love and just lose my V-card. But his mouth on mine felt wrong, his tongue was pushy and his hands were sweaty. When he slipped my shirt off, and touched my breasts through my bra, his hands didn't fit me. When he tried to push my jeans down my legs, I felt invaded. Although I could tell that he was aroused, I wasn't. I didn't feel any different. I didn't want him, I didn't love him, I didn't need him. All his whispers in my ear meant nothing. But I wanted to get it over with, so I did the only thing I could think of.

I pretended that the hands touching me were Damon's hands, the mouth kissing me was Damon's mouth. I closed my eyes and saw his face above me, and pretended his beautiful blue irises were staring into mine. When Damon's mouth traveled down my throat to my collarbone, I drew a sharp intake of breath; I could already feel myself throbbing to be with him, my most intimate parts wanting him. So this is what it should feel like! Damon's hands danced over my thighs, and I grabbed the silky black hair on his head, pulling him up for a bruising kiss. We were fire, and I mumbled his name into his mouth, "Damon."

Damon ripped himself away at that point, and I opened my eyes, realizing that Matt had returned. His weight was too heavy on top of me. His hands were clammy against my ribcage.

"You little bitch! I thought you wanted me!"

I tried to salvage any piece of my dignity. "I do!"

"You little fuck!" he yelled as he moved off of me, and tried to find his clothes. "I thought the night might go like this, I've heard how much of a frigid little bitch you are. So I made sure Vicki was all dolled up for me to pleasurably fuck after I had you. Tyler told me that virgins were the tightest, and since you wouldn't put out, I guess I'll have to wait for the next one." He slammed the door of the cheap motel room, and I collapsed back against the bed and sobbed. He had told me that he wanted to be my first because he loved me. Not because he wanted another notch in the bed post. And yeah, I didn't love him, but I liked him a bit. He even got us a motel room, and lit some candles around it. I can't believe I fell for that. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I picked up the phone and pressed number two on my speed dial.

"'Lena?"

"Damon? Can you come get me?" I asked, my voice shaking. That's when I heard a whiny female voice in the background shriek, "Damon, where are you going?"

"To get my girl", he yelled into the room. That's me, Damon's girl. He still calls me that and my heart races every time.

"Where are you?" he asks into the receiver.

"At the Motel 6."

"Elena, what the fuck are you doing at a motel in the middle of the night?"

I really broke down then, remembering what I'd almost done. "Please just come get me. I need you." I squeezed out through sobs.

"What room number?" he asked.

"Four."

"Okay, I'll be there in five minutes. Will you be okay till then?"

"Yeah, I just need you."

When he finally arrived, he ran to the bed and scooped my half naked, crying body into his arms. He carried me to his Camaro in the dark and wrapped his leather jacket around me to keep warm. Once I was in the car, with his smell all around me, I felt safe again, and I was finally able to calm down a bit, letting my sobs turn into sniffles.

He reached out and grabbed my hand, rubbing soothing circles on my skin while he drove us back home. My body responded instantly, feeling electric shocks wherever his fingers touched my flesh. "What happened, 'Lena?"

"I was with Matt…"

He gripped my hand tighter and slammed the car to a stop in the middle of the road. "'Lena, if he touched you, I'll fucking kill him!"

"No, no, I started it. I was going to sleep with him, but then everything felt so wrong, and…" I paused, not wanting to reveal the truth. Yeah, Damon, he left because I was envisioning having hot sex with you when he touched me. That would work out well. "…I pushed him off. He yelled at me and then he left."

He started the car again, and continued to drive, staying completely quiet. After a few moments, I begged him to say something.

"You were going to give it up to Matt? Matt Donavan? Quarterback douche and all around tool? I know you don't love him." He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly with his left hand that his knuckles were turning white. "'Lena, I need you to promise me that you won't do it unless the guy's the one. You're too special for just anyone to have."

I held his hand a little bit tighter, relishing the intimacy. "I promise."

Back in my bed, I continued to stare at the man next to me. This was the one time I could openly stare and not get caught. I traced his face, his arms, his chest with my eyes, getting lost in him. I was attempting to memorize the muscles in his stomach when I heard a rumbling voice, "You know, it's not polite to stare."

I slid my brown eyes up to meet his beautiful blue ones and smirked at him, "You know I just can't get enough."

He smiled and rolled his eyes, before wincing; "My head hurts."

I reached over to the nightstand and fished for the Ibuprofen I kept handy for situations such as these. I threw the bottle at him. "If you want something to wash it down, you're going to have to get it yourself, I'm quite comfy."

He laughed, "You'll be the death of me, woman. It's a good thing I've learned to go dry." He threw three capsules in his mouth and swallowed before slumping back down on the pillows.

"So what happened last night? I haven't seen you that drunk in a while."

He rolled on his side to face me, "I don't really know what came over me. I went over to Katherine's apartment to see her after work, and she was naked with some other guy. I was so mad that I just left and found friends in a few bottles of bourbon.

"So you were jealous?" I asked, really hoping that he was angry because he stubbed his toe or something.

"No! Damon Salvatore does not get jealous. I could care less. She can do whatever she wants, we're not together."

Damn it. He was jealous.

"You walked in on her with someone else and you got angry enough to drink it off. I hate to break it to you, but I'm pretty sure that's jealousy."

His face softened for a minute. "Okay, maybe it was."

I turned to face him and we stared at each other for a while.

"I really like her, 'Lena. She's fun and sexy and…", he searched for a word, "…hot. That pathetic excuse of a man shouldn't get to enjoy her."

My heart broke at his words. He really does like her, or he thinks he does.

"Anyway, do you mind if I take a shower here? I'm kind of gross."

I want to tell him that he looks perfect and gorgeous. Instead, I say, "Yeah, that's fine."

He leans over, and for second, I think he might be coming to kiss me. But instead, he pecks me on the cheek. "You're the best." He says before he slides out of my bed and heads to the shower.

I can't believe that he can see anything in Katherine. Yeah, she may be hot, but she's a complete bitch with a heinous personality. Well, after she dumps him, I'll still be here. He's in my shower, not hers. He's in my shower. Naked and wet.

God, I am so screwed.

AN: There we go guys, Chapter 2. I know I'm going heavy on the memories and such, but we're getting to the good stuff. Review? xxx