AUTHOR'S NOTE: Rated M for magnificently sexy ;)
Elena stepped out of the shower feeling a strange mixture of excitement and mind-numbing sadness. It was the blood, she knew, causing the semi-tingly, antsy feeling that rushed through her body.
She was already craving more.
Damon wasn't around when she left his bathroom and walked directly to the full-length mirror beside his bed. The bedroom door was open only an inch or two. Human Elena would've hurried to close it; her new self wasn't hugely concerned with modesty. Besides, if he walked in on her, it would take less than a second to cover herself again.
She had one priority right now. She needed to see her reflection. She needed to study herself, to find some reassurance in the fact that her body was still hers, familiar in its curves and lines.
She needed, too, to trigger the vampire. Nothing would be more effective in driving home the truth than seeing the part of her body that had changed.
Nothing would be more effective than seeing herself with fangs.
She let the towel fall away, grabbing the extra one she'd taken from Damon's bathroom and drying her hair. Her eyes remained riveted on the mirror, and she felt a surge of comfort in watching the familiar image of herself towel-drying, doing something she'd done a thousand times before and seeing that she looked no different doing it.
She was just wondering how exactly to bare her fangs when a scent curled its way into the air, instantly prompting the transformation. New teeth tore through her gums, and her hand went automatically to her mouth as she let out a small groan of pain. It felt like her skull would split open - again - as those new teeth forced their way in. She was so focused on the sensation that she was hardly conscious of the change in her eyes when Damon walked in, another mug of blood in hand.
Hearing her cry as her mouth continued to throb, Damon crossed the room in a heartbeat. Elena was distantly interested in the fact that, despite his speed, he hadn't spilled a drop of blood.
She'd be able to do that now, she realized. She'd have that lithe vampire grace, the lightning vampire reflexes, all those heightened vampire sensations.
Because she was a vampire.
Jesus, she was a vampire.
"Here, baby, drink. It will help, I promise."
Elena turned to Damon, her eyes big and a little lost. It took him a moment to appreciate the fact that she was stark naked, and to register shock that he'd only just noticed.
Wow, he thought wryly. You know you love a girl when you don't even realize she's naked in front of you because you're so focused on making her all better.
Now, though, he had a curious, uncharacteristic urge to avert his eyes, which he did as he pressed the cup into her hands. Elena let out a moan that was part gratitude and part desperation as she drank. Again, her stomach protested, and she choked on a mouthful before forcing it down.
Damon took the cup back and, in an act of self preservation, wrapped her discarded towel around her shoulders.
"You shouldn't drink too fast. It's your brain making you want to stop. Your body wants it, but you're not totally... comfortable, I guess would be the word, drinking blood like water."
She fastened the towel, discovering that vampires were equally susceptible to the blush that came with embarrassment. She hadn't even realized she was naked; that's how overpowering the hunger was.
"So... it won't hurt every time?" She fought to keep her voice from wavering.
"No, not at all. It just sort of happens. You probably smelled the blood I was bringing and bam. Activate game face." He shot her his patented Damon grin, so familiar in its smirking cockiness that she found herself responding with a smile. She had no idea how much it cost him to play it cool. Instinct told him to act as natural as possible, and when she rewarded him with that smile, he was momentarily crippled with relief.
Because he knew, now, that she could still smile. That he could still make her smile.
"I think I want - can I have the rest?"
"Yeah, of course. Just, slowly, like I said."
She tightened her towel more securely before taking the mug again and sitting on the edge of the bed. This time, she angled herself toward the mirror and kept her eyes open as she drank.
Oh, god. The rising veins spiderwebbing from her eyes, the eyes themselves going red with hunger, with bloodlust.
"Oh, god," she said, aloud this time. Her fingers went limp and Damon snagged the falling cup out of thin air as Elena crumpled, putting her face in her hands. "It's real. Even when I was drinking it, it wasn't real." She lifted her chin and met Damon's eyes. Hers were their pure, sweet brown again - and they were even bigger than usual, magnified by her tears. "This is really happening, Damon. It's really happening."
He sat beside her and pulled her into his arms, hand going to her head as he stroked her hair in long, gentle motions. "It's okay, Elena. it's going to be okay."
She thought she'd cried out all the tears her heart could possibly hold, but they flooded her again. She held him in a grip that would've bruised a human body, unaware of her own strength.
"Don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I can't do this, I can't. I can't be this." She raised her head and looked up at him, her eyes so sad, so very, very sad. "I don't want this, Damon."
"I promise you, Elena. I'm here. and I'm going to take care of you, and before you know it i won't have to anymore. Because there is no one in this world more capable of taking care of herself than you. You can do this, Elena. You will do this, and you'll see. It will be okay."
She gazed up into the depths of his blue eyes, sometimes an icy, chilly blue, sometimes dark as midnight. They hovered somewhere between as he kept them firmly on hers, projecting strength, forcing her to believe what he said. And she did, because he so obviously believed every word. He wasn't placating her. He knew she could do this.
She saw that conviction on his face, in his eyes. Saw that he believed in her with every cell in his body. It was enough to calm the tears. She closed her eyes for a long moment, then slowly blinked them open again and focused on his face, his beautiful, familiar face.
"You didn't ask," she murmured.
"Didn't ask what?" He brushed his fingertips up and down her arm, needing to maintain contact. He'd carried her rapidly cooling body to his bed. It was absolutely vital for him to feel her skin warm again.
"You didn't ask if I was going to be okay. If I'm okay."
He stroked a the back of his knuckle along her cheek, then brushed his thumb over the fullness of her lower lip.
"I didn't have to," he murmured. "I already know. Maybe you don't feel okay right now. No one really can. But I didn't have to ask if you're going to be okay, because you are, Elena. I know you are."
"Damon?" her breath hitched.
"Yeah?"
"I didn't get to tell you... before."
"Tell me what?"
Her eyes were eloquent, full of tears and swirling emotion.
And something he didn't recognize, didn't dare name, because he'd never seen it turned in his direction before. Didn't want to tempt himself with identifying the feeling she beamed up at him.
If he'd asked, she could've told him. Her eyes were love.
"I'm scared to say it, because everything is so new. And I, I don't know how this will work, or if suddenly things will change. I don't think they will, because it's so big, it's so much I can hardly stand it. I don't want things to change - the feelings I'm feeling. I need them."
"What feelings, Elena? Some of them will change, as you adjust... The fear, that freaked out, overwhelmed feeling..."
"Not that. I know that. That's not what I'm even feeling right now. When I look at you, there's no room for anything else. It's been like that for a while, you know. Maybe it took death to give me the courage to say it."
Confused, Damon looked at her, his brow creasing in a frown. "No room for anything else but what, Elena? To say what?"
He already knew. But in that moment, knowing and believing were worlds apart.
She watched him with those heartbreaking eyes and her voice was unsteady when she answered him. "I'm so in love with you, Damon."
Before he could respond, before he could even begin to try and tackle the sudden onslaught of emotion that hit him when he heard those words, she was plowing on.
"I don't want to talk about what's happened anymore, Damon. I don't. I can't. It's all so much right now. I just... I want to shut my brain off. I just want to think of the good."
With infinite gentleness Damon tucked a strand of hair behind Elena's ear. Her face tilted automatically as she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes.
"You amaze me," he said softly, drinking her in. Nothing had stirred his heart in decades, and suddenly it was pounding. Bursting with love for her. "Finding any good in this situation? You're fucking amazing, Elena."
"It's not hard to find," she told him, reaching for his hand, gripping it tight. "You're the good, Damon."
She didn't see the little smile of amusement on his lips.
"That's the second time you've told me I'm good in what, three days? You should really stop saying it or people will hear you. I have a reputation, you know."
She laughed, actually laughed, and his heart swelled. "Tell me what I can do for you, Elena. Tell me how I can help. Whatever it is I can do to help make this easier, I'll do it in a heartbeat. I love you, Elena. No matter how unsure everything else is, be sure of that. I love you."
He continued to brush the pad of his thumb along the delicate arch of her cheekbone, and after a moment her eyes fluttered open. For the first time since she'd woken, she felt almost peaceful. Because even in the midst of this horrible mess she knew she had people who loved her, people who would help her.
Because she had Damon.
She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him so seriously he nearly laughed.
"I know something you could do..." Still twining her fingers with his, she slipped her other hand behind his head, brought his mouth to hers.
And holy Jesus, the instant their lips made contact the fire, the spark that shot through her - she should've burst into flame. It was the simplest kiss, two mouths closed but pressed together, and it ignited every nerve.
She drew away only for a moment, looking at him with shock and wonder and - oh, God - joy, true, unadulterated joy, bright in her eyes.
"Oh my God. oh, my God, Damon. Don't ever stop kissing me, I'll be okay if you never - "
He crushed his mouth on hers, drowning out her words with a savage kiss. Her throaty hum of pleasure coursed through his whole body, and now it was his hand grasping her hair, gripping it hard, bruising her lips with his. She twisted in his lap, the towel falling away as she fought to feel more of him, to touch more of him.
Then his mouth was on her throat and her hands were fumbling in their attempt to reach more skin, to rip away the silk of his shirt so she could feel more, so much more. She arched her neck into his touch, felt his tongue sweep the smooth slope of her shoulder, felt the scrape of his teeth, felt each fiery kiss as his mouth moved lower.
"Oh, god, oh God, it feels - it's so good I might die." she was panting now, renewing her efforts to shed his clothes with near violent desperation. Buttons flew as she ripped his shirt open, and she yanked his head up, fused her mouth with his, pressed her bare skin against his hard chest. It was everything it had been and a million things more, more than she knew she was capable of feeling.
"I need you, I need you inside me Damon." Her words were a breathy plea as she fought with the buckle of his belt.
"Wait, just wait," he whispered against her neck, and the protest died on her lips as his mouth found her breast, his tongue swirling around her impossibly hard nipple, and every inch of her body bowed.
When his hand slipped between her legs, when he found her already wet with her own desperate excitement, she bit back a scream, her teeth sinking so deep into her lip that she drew blood. And the taste combined with his touch was more than she could bear.
Her hips moved against his seeking finger, and when he slid another inside her she couldn't hold back the scream of sheer, staggering pleasure.
"You're going to make me - I'm going to come," she managed raggedly, and then cried out in protest at his sudden withdrawal. He flipped her onto her back and finished the job her trembling hands had failed at, yanking off his jeans and arranging himself over her.
"Not till I'm inside you. Sit up, Elena." It was a growled command.
She could feel him pressing against her, the hard length of him so close, so tantalizingly close. Her hips bucked and he fisted a hand in her hair, dragging her up. He used his free hand to capture one of hers, took her fingertip and pressed the curve of her nail to his own throat. Dragged her finger along his skin, deep and hard.
In the wake of her touch, blood rushed to the surface.
"Look at me," he demanded, releasing her from his grip only to shove her legs open roughly, almost angrily. He ranged himself over her, moaning as his hardness met her wetness. Her eyes were blurred, drugged, intoxicated by him.
And then he was grabbing her by the hair again, drawing her mouth to his neck. Her vision went nearly black as she succumbed to the primal animal in her, as her teeth sank into his tender throat. In the same moment that the taste of blood filled her mouth, he filled her, plunging inside her, wild, feverish, furious, glorious.
She ripped her fangs away when the orgasm tore through her. Her mouth had to be free.
She had to be able to scream his name.