Chapter 12:

The girl, Rebekah, returned to collect our empty dishes a while later. She'd reapplied a bright red lipstick to her plump lips and powdered her face with bronzer, accentuating her defined cheekbones. Her cheeks were rouged and she'd opened the top button of her white blouse, teasing those who glanced her way with her cleavage.

As she lifted Damon's plate from the tabletop, she slipped something in its place and patted it enticingly. She sashayed away from the table with an extra sway in her hips and didn't turn her head to see if he'd acknowledged her swaying ass. He was and he bit his lip as he watched her excreting confidence as she returned to the bar.

He picked up the piece of torn receipt and smirked, seemingly pleased.

Our game of footsies beneath the table earlier caused me to blush after their exchange as my confidence fizzled and dissipated, like a balloon. It also made me realise how idiotic I'd been.

Observing as Giuseppe and my mum laughed and chattered with one another from across the table, my head started to clear and I knew that I'd fucked up with my escapades with Damon.

Across from me, he cocked an eyebrow as he gripped the table, rapping his fingers along the edges of it.

"So, what brought you to Mystic Falls, Miss Gilbert?" Damon enquired, turning on the charm. His eyes lingered on mine for a few more seconds before he turned his head towards my mum, smiling pleasantly and resting his head on his now clasped hands.

"Oh, you know, change of scenery and the usual family drama." She waved it off with a bat of her hand and took a sip of her water. I could see her hands visibly shaking.

"You don't have to sugar coat it, mum." Jeremy objected, placing his phone down on the table with a jerk of his hand. Mum jumped at the loud thump and placed her hand over her mouth to conceal her sobs.

She quickly regained herself, but she was definitely shaken up by Jeremy's comment. She seemed tense throughout the remainder of dinner and when desert arrived, she placed her cutlery down.

"Excuse me." She said, getting to her feet on shaky legs. A whimper made her lips quiver as she sped to the restrooms.

"Way to go, Jeremy." I sighed, defeated, and placed my napkin on the white tablecloth in annoyance before stalking after her.

We rarely ever spoke about dad between us, never mind with others. I pushed on the restroom door, poking my head around the corner, and closed it softly behind me, so as not to disturb her.

"Mum?" I knocked gently on the only occupied cubicle door in the restroom and slumped against the door when I heard her spasming sob in response.

She sniffled and I heard some rustling sound, like paper towels, and then her blow her nose, "I'm fine, Elena, go sit back down with the others."

I shook my head, and, realising that she couldn't see me, I spoke soothingly, as if to a small child, "Open the door, mum."

The door unlocked and mum emerged with a scrunched tissue in her palm and her face a splotchy red. She smiled reassuringly at me, but I could see through her cool and collected exterior. There were tears glistening in her eyes and she was mashing her lips together to quench the sobs wracking her body as she hiccuped. Her lips quivered and her body wracked as she slumped forward with another round of hysterical tears.

"Come here." I opened my arms to her and she immediately threw herself at me and sobbed into my shoulder. I hated seeing her cry, despised it, and I couldn't believe that Jeremy had actually said that shit. He knew better than to bring up dad, knew better than to mention him, knew that it always had this effect on her. He knew that it killed her inside, knew what she'd gone through after his death, and he knew that it would bring this reaction forth.

Smoothing my hand through her hair, I shushed her, trying to placate her, "It's okay, mum. Jer's just a little upset that you've found someone new that isn't dad."

She nodded her head silently into my chest and wiped her nose, "I know, but he's gone. He's gone… Oh God, he's gone." A new round of tears filled her eyes and, with them, a whole new round of hysteria.

She was an utter mess, gut wrenching sobs convulsing her body as she slumped into my arms, "No, no, no…" She repeated the words as she slouched against me. My mum had once been slender, but two children and a bound of mourning her late husband later, which entailed a bunch of comfort eating and then a patch of not eating at all, and she was bound to gain some pounds. Her pudgy frame leaning against my slim one, made my back bow and caused me to stumble on my feet.

"Hey, hey, Miranda, calm down. Please…" It was Giuseppe. He wrapped his arms around mum from behind. Before I had the chance to process the fact that Giuseppe was in the women's restrooms and shoo him away, she turned in his arms to embrace him tightly.

Initially taking a defensive step towards her, I stopped mid stride, my mouth forming a little circle of shock when I realised that he was actually able to calm her some.

I dispelled a breath of air, a worrisome crease in my forehead, and ran a hand through my hair. I looked over my shoulder, sensing a presence, and spotted a silhouette in the doorway. It was Damon, breathing heavily with his lips parted as he exhaled, like he'd been running. He held the door open with his back foot and the corresponding right hand. The other was raised slightly in the air, as if about to reach out to help, but there was nothing he could do.

Turning fully to face him, I began traipsing towards him, but stopped suddenly to glance back at my mum. She was sat on the ceramic floor with Giuseppe bent down in front of her, wiping her tears and whispering something to her. She nodded her head to whatever he was saying and he helped her up to her feet. She offered him a watery smile in thanks as he pried the soiled tissue from her hands, threw it in the trash and unfurled a new handful for her as she doused her face with cold water. He seemingly had everything under control.

I spun back around to face Damon and walked past him, waiting for him to follow. I didn't turn around to see if he had.

I came to a halt at our table upon seeing it completely vacated, "Where's Jeremy?"

"He's upset. He ran outside to cool off and I tried to chase him, but he took off when he realised my intent." Damon explained.

"What was your intent?"

"To kick some sense into his stupid ass."

When I turned to face him again, my expression one of blatant distress, he took an involuntary step towards me.

"What's wrong?" He probed, tugging at the ends of his hair in worry, his face contorted in something like concern, a side I'd never really seen with Damon before. He was always so cool and collected, a little bit of an ass… Okay, a whole lot of an ass, but never concerned.

I shook my head and took a shaky sip from my lemonade before slamming it back down on the table. It sloshed over my hands and I picked up a napkin to wipe them slowly, eyeing Damon cautiously.

He'd find out soon enough. Of course, he would. There was no way something else wouldn't come up in a conversation involving the incident with my dad. There was no plausible way around it.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, mum and Giuseppe returned, with his arm draped over her shoulder and Jeremy traipsing behind them, sulking and looking embarrassed.

When he finally tore his eyes away from the ground, they flitted to mine and I raised my eyebrow in question, pursing my lips. He quickly averted his eye.

"He apologised, Elena. Don't give him a hard time. He's just not used to having men around. I understand." Giuseppe hadn't spoken authoritatively or in a chastising way, but more soft-spoken and acting like a peacemaker, courteous.

I huffed in a halfhearted sort of way and was about to tack on that mum had dated more men in our lifetime than Henry VIII with his many wives and so we were used to a lot of men in our lives, but I kept it to myself and looked away from his enquiring eyes.

Throughout the course of what was left of my birthday dinner, mum calmed down some and seemed to return back to her normal self. Jeremy had moved to sit besides me, still ashen faced and ashamed of his behaviour.

After Giuseppe asked for the bill, which throughly dismayed me; he shouldn't have to pay for my meal, Damon stooped from his seat, which also irked me although I couldn't pinpoint why, and shrugged on his black leather jacket. He zipped his phone away in his pocket and planted a kiss on my mothers cheek, his hand resting on the back of her chair for support.

"Leaving so soon?" Mum asked, charmed.

Damon nodded and stood back upright, "Yeah, I'm meeting Klaus at the cinemas."

"Oh, what are you going to see?"

"Oh, you know, just some gory horror movie." He shrugged. Looking away, I took another sip of my lemonade. Despite how much I hated to admit to myself, I didn't want him to leave just yet.

"Well, have fun." Mum grinned, patting his hand which was still leaning on the back of her chair.

"Will do, Miranda. Won't be back too late, Pa." Giuseppe nodded his head solemnly, looking a little pissed off. Damon smirked at his father before turning around.

"Hey, Damon, wait," Called Giuseppe. Damon turned to face him, looking peeved.

"What do you want now?" Damon sighed, rolling his eyes. He'd plastered a tightlipped smile on his face to hide his displeasure.

Giuseppe grinned and leant back in his seat, pleased with himself, "Why don't you bring Elena along with you?"

Damon looked my way.

It took me a moment to register what he'd said, but when I did, my eyes widened and my back straightened in my seat.

"No, no, thats alright, sir- Giuseppe!" I quavered. My eyes seemed to glance towards Damon inconspicuously to gather his reaction.

His face transformed from blank to bemused in an instant. I could see all of the different scenarios shuffling behind his eyes.

"Perfect." Damon beamed, taking a few steps from around the table towards me before offering his hand out. "That is, if you want to, Elena?" He drawled out my name, doing strange things to my body.

I looked towards my mum, interpreting her reaction. She smiled appeasingly and nodded her head, "It's your eighteenth, Elena. Go. Have fun."

Laying next to my mum on the table was a small, blank receipt with Rebekah's number on the reverse side. I didn't know whether Damon had purposefully left it there and therefore only flirted with her to cause the jealously to stir inside me, which was a success, or whether he'd somehow forgotten it with the chaos that had ensued earlier that evening. Whichever was the reason, I was grateful for it.

I looked back up towards Damon. He was still smirking, one eyebrow raised, trying to irk me on; trying to challenge me.

I tenderly placed my hand in his.

Challenge accepted.


My suspicions were confirmed when Damon didn't immediately slow down outside of the town's local cinemas. Instead, he sped on past it and continued forwards for another fifteen minutes until we reached this deserted stretch of backstreet with houses boarded up and newspapers shielding the windows. Damon slowed down when we reached the corner, where a building offered the only signs of life through the illuminated windows.

"What is this place?" I mumbled, dumbstruck. I leant forwards in my seat to get a better view just as a man stumbled out of the front entrance with a bottle clutched tightly between his fingers.

"My go-to bar." He denoted as the man opened his mouth to vomit up the wall of the joint.

"No cinema?"

"No cinema." He chuckled, turning off the ignition and withdrawing his keys. He hopped out of the car and gestured for me to follow him.

Of course, no courtesy from Damon.

Huffing agitatedly, I pulled on the lever and climbed out of the car, jogging to catch up with him on the sidewalk.

Without heed, he nudged the dorsum of my hand gently, coaxingly. I looked down at his fingertips brushing delicately over my knuckles, my heart simultaneously spluttering at his touch.

"Hold my hand." He ordered patiently.

"Why?"

"Just do it."

I obliged, entwining our fingers together one by one. He tugged me gently forwards, towards the entrance of the old, wood-based bar.

I resisted once we'd mounted the first couple of steps and he twisted, resigned, to see what was wrong.

"We can't go in there," I spat, quiet so as not to make a commotion.

"Why not?" He smirked, releasing my hand to fold his over his breast.

"Because we're underage. We'll get caught and they'll tell our parents." I blurted out feebly.

He shook his head, refuting my excuses, "You're officially 18 and, believe me, they won't say a thing. Not that Giuseppe could do anything about it." He muttered the last part under his breath.

It suddenly occurred to me that he was right. I sighed and clucked my tongue against the roof of my mouth in contemplation.

"Oh, come on, Elena. Please?" He begged, pouting his bottom lip out.

"Fine." I relented and he squeezed my hand one more time before ushering me inside.

Like the outside, the interior consisted of wood. Wooden floors, wooden walls, wooden bar, wooden tables, wooden stools…

A man was wiping down the bar with an old rag and he lifted it up to wave in Damon's direction. It looked like he'd had the sodden rag for years and hadn't washed it in that period of time either.

The man had greying tufts of hair, receding past his forehead with coarse, weeks old stubble, verging on the cusps of a beard. He was old. The wrinkles around his eyes and the laugh lines indented into his skin reflected his age. He had a light pair of ripped jeans on and a dirty white t-shirt, with oil stains marring the hem where he'd wrung his hands.

"Come on." Damon whispered, twisting his head so as not to gather unwanted attention. Gazing around, a few of the residents were watching us peculiarly, eyeing Damon's leather boots and jacket combo with watchful, attentive eyes.

He had to physically drag me towards the bar, and when we reached it, he had to plop me down into a stool before occupying one himself besides me. The man behind the bar leant his hands on either side of him, his fingers dipping in the little puddles of beer on the surface of the bar.

"Nice to see an old face, Damon. Where've you been hiding?" The man smirked, clapping hands with Damon's in a firm, yet friendly shake. I could detect the signs of a faint irish accent in the lilt of his voice.

"This one keeps me busy, if you know what I mean." Damon winked, releasing my hand to point a thumb at me.

The man grunted his appreciation of me, his eyes raking over my white dress and tiny curls. Compared to every other person in the bar, I looked innocent and angelic. I did not fit in with the busty girls with piercings, fishnet tights and spiky gelled hair.

"The names Travis." He croaked, throwing his dishcloth over his shoulder to extend his hand to me. I resistantly clasped it in my own and he pressed a sloppy kiss on the back of my hand. I grimaced and he grinned, his face still near my hand.

Damon cleared his throat from besides me and Travis immediately dropped my hand. "What can I get you?"

I looked towards Damon for help, but the look in his eyes made my mouth snap closed. He looked livid, his nostrils flaring as he glared at Travis for his earlier stunt.

"The usual," He finally replied. His eyes met mine and he sighed, "make that two."

"Two bourbons coming right up." He smiled shakily, grasping at the opportunity to get away.

"He seems…"

"Sketchy?" Damon offered. I nodded, "Yeah, he is, but he's an old friend. He just likes to test the limits."

Travis slammed down two glasses in front of us, making them slosh over the rim before making a hasty departure.

"What is this?" I asked, picking my glass up and giving it a hesitant sniff.

He chuckled as I turned up my nose at the strong smell, "It's bourbon; very strong, very effective. It should do the trick."

"What trick?"

"Get you wasted enough so that I can seduce you."

"S-seduce me?" I stuttered dumbly.

"Don't flatter yourself, Elena. I'm kidding." But I didn't know if he was being serious or not.

A silence descended over us as we each took a sip of our drinks. I sneered at the taste and set my glass back down on the bar. "That's disgusting."

"I figured you wouldn't like it." He chuckled, reaching over to slide my glass towards him, hunching over his two glasses like a possessive madman, "No matter, more for me."

He ordered me another drink; pineapple juice with pina colada. It was much sweeter and more refined to my tastes.

Nursing both of his glasses, he said something that made my heart falter and near splutter my drink out.

"What happened today at the restaurant?" It was a quiet whisper. He nudged my shoulder with his when I didn't respond.

I blew out a breath, "Two years ago, my dad died in a car accident." My voice wavered and broke on the words 'died' and 'car accident'.

He didn't speak for a while, too shocked to say anything I guessed. It was a lot to take in. How did you respond to something like that?

"Why didn't you tell me?" He finally spoke, his voice low and breaking as he spoke.

"I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

"You know what I mean."

"No, Damon, I don't. I never know what you mean. One minute you're hot, the next you're cold." I sighed, defeated. I shook my head and picked up my glass, downing the entire thing and sliding it back across the bar for seconds.

"Is that why you reacted the way you did in the parking lot when I mentioned your dad?" He asked, the pieces forming together in his mind. I nodded gloomily in response and took another gulp of my fresh beverage, courtesy of Travis.

If we were going to be having this conversation, I needed a drink or two.

An arm draped over my shoulders and wrapped around the side of my neck, along with Damon's, bringing us closer towards each other, "If it isn't Elena Gilbert."

Klaus.

I'd forgotten he was due to meet Damon, hence why we'd had to leave my birthday dinner early. Forcing a smile onto my face, I twisted around in his arms.

"Nice to see you, too." I grinned.

Dropping his arms, he threw each leg over the seat of the stool besides me and hooked the toe of his boots around each leg of the stool, folding his hands over the sticky surface of the bar.

"Can't stay long. I've got Hope tonight and she wants me home in time to read her a bedtime story."

Right, he had a daughter, who I still had the bunny of in my room.

In the corner of the room, someone kicked the side of a jukebox collecting dust and an old tune came blurring through the ancient speakers. A collective round of cheers and hoots buzzed in the occupants of the bar and a few women in scandalous outfits pushed a bunch of tables out of the way for a makeshift dance floor.

The tune was familiar and, soon, I was beginning to enjoy myself and forget about Damon and I's previous conversation. The music was all I could feel reverberating through me and all I could think about. There was no room for anything else and I could feel the tension elevate from me as I took another swig of my drink and set it on the bar, humming along to the tune and swaying my hips a little on the stool.

A woman with curly black hair, short shorts and a cropped belly top hoisted herself up onto a table and began gyrating to the music, bellowing with her friends the lyrics to the song. Men hooted and wolf whistled around her, enjoying the show and then another girl joined her with fiery red hair and their hoots raised in crescendo.

The atmosphere was absolutely electric and I completely understood why Damon regularly hung out at this place; it was nothing like any other club or bar I'd dared to venture into.

Grinning widely, I turned my head to see Damon eyeing me thoughtfully, a small smile on his face. It wasn't the same sort of smile I'd seen Damon wear before. It wasn't cheeky, daring or provocative. It was sweet and admiring.

I was suddenly yanked from my staring when a face ducked to my view and gestured with a wag of their finger to join them. It was the dancing raven-haired girl.

I quickly shook my head in a resolute decline, but she persisted, holding out her hand for me to take.

I don't know what urged me to. Maybe it was Damon's admiring smile, the alcohol or the fact that it was my birthday and I wanted to, but I took that girls hand and hopped up onto the bar which she'd migrated onto with her redheaded friend.

Swivelling around to face the growing crowd, I grinned and lifted my foot up towards Damon.

"Help a girl out, would ya?" I smirked, winking. I wiggled my toes as he undid the buckles on my sandals, caressing the instep of my foot as he did.

Once he'd unclasped them, I kicked my sandals off into Damon's lap. He caught the second one, smirking dastardly as I spun around and dropped down into a crouch before sensually shimmying myself back upright and slapping my own ass.

The crowd cheered and, as they did, my confidence swelled.

Travis must have set up a karaoke machine because, awhile later, the black-haired girl, the redhead and I were singing along to the jukebox through a shared microphone. Our voices were not in sync and we must've sounded terrible, but the crowd seemed to enjoy us as much as Damon seemed to be enjoying the show.

Black Velvet by Alannah Myles was blaring through the speakers, laced with our three intertwined voices overriding it. At some point, a young man joined us on the bar and the two girls all worked his shirt over his head and playfully roamed their hands over his chest. Thats around the point where I decided that things were getting a little hectic and I plonked my ass down on the edge of the bar for a sip of my drink.

Damon was besides me, grinning like a fool and, over his shoulder, Klaus was provocatively dancing with some girl.

"What a show." Damon grinned, clapping his hands slowly. Hopping down to my bare feet, I took a bow and giggled tipsily as I righted myself against Damon's shoulder blade.

"Care to dance?" A beefy, bald man tapped on my shoulder and I shook my head politely, but he persisted, stroking the white fabric grazing the back of my thighs. "Come on, sugar, don't be like that."

"She's with me." Damon growled lowly, jumping immediately to his feet. The man immediately retracted, taking a wobbly step backwards before scurrying back to his gang of friends.

"Come on." The black-haired girl from earlier, Bonnie, said, handing me a glass before grabbing my hand and tugging me towards the makeshift dance floor. The hooting men had cleared some of the tables out and some of the men were gyrating in the dim lights with dangerous looking girls.

I definitely did not fit in here, but I liked it, somehow.

Bonnie and I swayed our hips seductively, her running her hands all over my body as I drunkenly wiggled my ass and simultaneously gulped the glass she'd handed me before handing the empty glass to a random man and continuing. When I looked up towards Damon, Klaus was besides him and whispering something close to his ear. Damon swivelled around in his seat to watch me and smiled when I added a little more sway to my hips and ground my junk into Bonnie's crotch like a hooker. What was happening to me? At some point, a young, gruff boy came over to nibble at her neck and she giggled and he dragged her off to some closet in the corner. Some while later, I realised it was the guy she'd been stripping at the bar earlier.

I suddenly felt sick and woozy, but when I looked to the place where Damon and Klaus were seated, Klaus was gone and Damon was watching me intently.

I wagged my finger seductively in his direction for him to join me and he resignedly obliged, jumping down from the stool and twisting around to place his glass on the bar. Slowly, he sauntered towards me, a devilish look in his eyes.

"Dance with me, sir?" I pouted, fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

"Of course, Miss Gilbert." He smirked, lifting his hand up for me to take. I smiled and took ahold of his hand again.

He spun me around and ground his growing erection into my backside as I dropped my head back onto his shoulder, groaning at the sensation.


Damon had placed his other hand on my lower back and swayed me gently to and fro, our swaying not matching the tempo of the music, but we each didn't seen to notice.

The music had died down and the club had gradually emptied, until only a handful of people remained. Damon was wasted, completely and utterly, and I guess I was, too. Klaus had returned home to Hope, and Bonnie had emerged from the closet with a lopsided shirt and smeared red lipstick. The man had followed closely behind her, still buttoning up the zipper on his faded jeans.

I opened my mouth as my eyes rolled into the back of my head tiredly, "Why did you claim that I'd kept you busy earlier to Travis?" I lifted my head up from the crook of his shoulder to mimic quotation marks on the "kept you busy" part before drooping my head back to his shoulder.

It took him a while to reply, probably trying to fabricate a decent response. "He needed to know that because he likes to touch things that don't belong to him." He peeled his head back to look down at me.

"I don't belong to you. You hold no claim over me." I vouched, my eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

"Yes, you do." He breathed and he inched his fingers over my waist to my collar bone, peeling away the fabric of my dress by my shoulder, lowering the strap completely. He lowered his head back down to my neck, opening his mouth to suck gently at my newly exposed skin. I groaned in something like pain or pleasure as he began sucking harder and harder at my collar bone, and when he eventually pulled away, his mouth made a small popping sound. "There," He spoke gruffly, "mine."


A/N- So, there you have it guys, chapter 12. I really am honestly sorry for the delay, but as I've explained to a few of you, I had to move houses TWICE and so we only got the internet back last week, which was annoying and since I was still in the process of moving for the second time last week, I didn't have any time to myself and just sit down to check the chapter over. So, here it is now and, again, sorry for the delay! Review=…my happiness;)