CHAPTER 6

General POV

"Fine! You want to talk? Then we'll talk" Damon snarled at Elena, who was smiling in contentment because she'd gotten what she wanted ever since Damon got back. With Irina…

Even the mere thought of the older vampire's name made Elena's blood boil in wrath. She wanted nothing more than to go find the bitch and drive a stake through her heart; or even better, rip off her ugly head. But she wouldn't. She couldn't. She wouldn't be the one to take Damon's happiness away from him; not after all he'd been through for her to get hers. She would never do anything to make Damon suffer -not any more, at least-; like she'd done three years ago. No. She would be the Elena Gilbert everyone –including Damon- knew. The sacrificial, martyr, silent sufferer Elena. She would gather all the courage she had, when three years ago she'd chosen to break Damon's heart over the phone instead of facing him; and she'd suck it up, and be what she'd demanded of Damon what felt like an eternity ago. She'd be the better woman, and let the two lovebirds live in peace.

Damon got frustrated when he realized Elena's head was somewhere else, and he scoffed. What the hell was the matter with her? Ever since he came back, she'd been breathing down his neck, trying to get them to talk. A talk, that might he add, he did not want to have. Yet –as usual-, he'd surrendered to her wishes. And what for? For her to get those dreamy eyes on, and ignore him! She'd pressured him so hard, and now she was acting like she didn't care in the slightest whether they talked or not.

Fuck it! Now he was the onethat wanted to talk, and he didn't give two shits if Elena did or didn't. She'd have to act like the grown-up she was supposed to be by now, and listen intently to all he had to say. Everything he'd wanted to talk about with her for the past three years, he'd say it. He was done bottling up his emotions. Now was the time to spill everythingout; and he didn't care if he hurt Elena in the process. He was done caring about her feelings.

While all these things rushed through Damon's head. Elena's was focused on one single thing…

-FLASHBACK-

Elena sighed as she stared off into space. She was somewhere else but there -just like she'd always been for the past six months-; while Stefan was talking nonstop about his last hunting trip. He was telling her how he'd found a bear, and how it really tasted almost like human blood. If Elena was indeed listening to him, she would surely have scoffed.

Of course it didn't resemble human blood in the slightest. No animal blood could ever compare to the deliciousness of the human nectar…

Stefan stopped talking when he noticed that she wasn't listening to him, and that her head was anywhere but in there with him. But he chose to pretend, just like they had been doing for the last months in their relationship.

Relationship…

None of them saw their togetherness as a relationship-relationship. There were no passionate kisses anymore; their loving gazes into each other's eyes were long gone now; they didn't even talk unless what they felt was necessary to keep it going; the long hugs had been gone for a big while now as well. And let's not even speak of their already boring sex-life. There had been just one single time where they had tried to have sex again. It'd been three months after Damon had gone MIA, and it had started the average way their sex always had. They had kissed, then they'd gazed into one another's eyes; then, they mechanically –although pretending it was passionately- shed off their clothes.

Once they were totally naked and Stefan was just about to thrust into her; only then did he realize Elena's eyes were unfocused and she seemed to be in another place, and probably with another person. Most likely your brother… his subconscious had whispered maliciously in his ear, but as always –when it came to Damon and Elena's relationship- he chose to ignore it. It was easier that way.

"Elena?" Stefan had whispered trying to get her attention back. But it'd been useless. "Elena?" his voice had risen. Still she'd paid him no attention. He'd taken hold of both her bare shoulders –ignoring her bare breasts that were begging him to take them into his mouth; but he shook his head to rid of that thought- shaking her, hard to get her to focus on him. The selfish half of his brain had been hoping they could continue what they had started; it had been so long since he last had been laid –it'd been when he was in Tennessee with Klaus. Of course he would never dare to tell Elena that while she was worried sick about his wellbeing, and spending all summer breathing down Damon's neck to get an insight of his last whereabouts; he was out there, living life to its fullest; draining off uncountable innocent girls; fucking around –something he'd always judged Damon for in the past- and getting higher and higher on human blood. No! Elena would never know. Shecould never know. But, the other half of his brain –the one that was always fighting the selfish one every step in the way- told him that it was more important to know what was bothering his love. Like you don't know already…

When Elena had finally snapped back from her reverie, she'd only told Stefan that she was fine, but not in the mood for sex anymore. And Stefan, being Stefan –although reluctantly-, had said it was fine and they could try on some other day.

But they hadn't.

Not even once…

The problem with their relationship was that each of them saw it in a different way. To Stefan, it was the only way he could stay close to his humanity –although his humanity had turned into what he hated the most. What he was. A demon of the night. A cold-blooded monster with no redeeming qualities. A blood sucker. A vampire. A fucking vampire-. He feared that if he let her go –even when she was the thing he couldn't stand being himself- he'd go on a killing spree and back to his ripper days. And he absolutely did not want to be "Stefan Salvatore, a.k.a. The Ripper" all over again.

However, to Elena, it was the only way possible to somehow keep in touch with the other Salvatore –even though she'd never had any actual kind of contact with the blue eyed vampire that haunted her every dream and thought. She felt like by staying close to Stefan, she'd somehow stay a little close to Damon. After all, she was with the other person Damon loved most, besides her-. She was aware that this was wrong –so wrong-; she was also aware that this was what she'd wanted to evade by choosing one brother: stringing the other one along. But she simply couldn't help it. Because she also knew that the moment she let go of Stefan, she'd lose the thin connection she had to Damon. She didn't know how, when, or why she'd become that dependent of the blue eyed Salvatore. She only knew she had.

They knew it. They both fucking knew it. Their once all-consuming, blinding, and powerful love was gone. Well, not absolutely gone, because they still loved each other deeply. But they were not in love with each other. Deep down, they knew this. But they were so afraid of voicing it out loud. Because, what if they did? What would there be left for them if they let the only constant thing that remained in their lives? What would they do if they let it all go? Everything they had done to get things back to how they were supposed to be, it would go be a waste. All the pain. Hers, her friends', Stefan's… Damon's.

That was what Elena was more concerned about. What would it say about her if she went from one brother to the other? She wished she didn't care what people thought of her -since she was a vampire and all-; but sadly, she did. And even if she didn't, what would she think about herself? Damon was out of her life for good; he was gone. She had removed him from her life so she could live happily ever after with Stefan; she had cruelly broken his already-fragile heart, so Stefan's could be safe and away from any kind of suffering. If she let Stefan, and their relationship go; all Damon had gone through because of her rejection would've been in vain.

That played the bigger part in her reluctance to say goodbye to Stefan. The other part was that she was terrified of how life would be when she finally stopped having a Salvatore by her side.

Stefan's POV

Seeing Elena so obviously out of it was beyond frustrating. Even for someone as patient as Stefan… He was done being the good, patient, waiting little boyfriend.

Enough was enough…

He'd thought that by giving her the space she needed, she would eventually get over her obsession over his older brother. That was the whole purpose of their now ridiculous agreement; for fuck's sake! He'd thought that she eventually would get over her stupid infatuation with Damon.

Little did he know it wasn't just an infatuation…

He would come to realize it wasn't that she was simply infatuated with his older brother, but that her feelings towards the blue eyed vampire were deeper than he'd ever imagined them to be.

"Elena!" it was a first that with his first calling she'd snap out of her thoughts. It must've meant something, right…?

"What, Stefan?" she asked in an annoyed tone. God, why couldn't he just leave her alone for one fucking moment! He'd been so suffocating the last six months that she was getting beyond frustrated. She was fucking pissed. He was always breathing down her neck, trying subtly –although it was anything but- to get her to forget about Damon, and try to rebuild their –by now- inexistent relationship. In truth she knew that she was being pretty unfair to him. But at the moment she didn't give a fuck!

Moments ago –before Stefan had startled her out of her reverie- she'd been remembering the first time Damon had told her he loved her. And she didn't mean the time when he was dying from Tyler Lockwood's bite. But when he had given her her necklace back, after saving her from Elijah. When he'd told her he thought he didn't deserve her, but that Stefan did. When –against the opinion she had on his selfishness- he'd acted more selfless than any person she'd ever known. Even herself…

It was one of two memories that had made an appearance during the time she was mourning Damon's departure; when she had locked herself up in her room; hoping for Damon to return home. Those memories were what kept her going day after day; giving her hope that there was still a little tiny chance he'd return home to her. Of the two, this one was what both shocked and depressed her the most.

During weeks she had tortured herself with this memory. Every time she remembered it, it was like getting punched in the face, stabbed, and staked; all at once. One would say she'd been a masochist -for bringing back those memories that caused her nothing but excruciating pain-; and she was. It wasn't as if she liked to remember what she'd never gotten to have; but it was because she liked the pain it caused her. She felt like she had to punish herself for breaking Damon's heart.

And she had…

Right after she'd witnessed the first memory, another one had made its appearance. She'd seen them both the exact same day Damon had departed. She remembered that after Damon walked out of the door, she had passed out. At the time she'd thought it was because of the extenuation of having died the night before; but now she knew that wasn't the case. It was a coping mechanism against the pain Damon's departure had inflicted upon her being. She'd been out of it for a good couple of hours –in which time she'd seen the memory of Damon in her bedroom telling her he loved her-; and when she'd finally woken up again, she'd thought it all had been a dream. She'd jumped out of bed and was ready to speed towards Damon's room. But a sight had stopped her dead on her tracks. For what she could tell, it seemed to be a memory; but she couldn't for the life of her place it. She couldn't remember even having made it.

In it, there were Damon and her; the day her parents' car drove off of Wickery Bridge. It was the day they had first met. Before she even knew, or cared about Stefan's existence; when she was just an ordinary girl that knew nothing about the supernatural that seemed to love her little, and uneventful town. She remembered that Damon had done nothing to her –which was something pretty odd, since he was a completely different person back then-, but wish her well.

"I want you to get everything you're looking for…" he'd told her when she saw her parents' car's highlights. She'd turned to look at the car, and when she returned her head back to the handsome man that had earlier materialized out of nowhere, but it was only to notice that as abruptly as he'd appeared, he was gone.

Those two memories were the trigger to the despair that had been always there –in her heart- for the following six months, until today.

She was startled out of her reverie by another shake from Stefan; whose face showed that his patience was wearing thin by the minute. She shook her head and focused on him.

"Elena. I think it's fucking time we talk" he snapped at her blank face. He hated that ever since hehad left, her face barely ever showed emotion. It was always expressionless. He absolutely loathed it.

Elena knew he was shit-serious by his cursing words; Stefan had never been one to curse, but if he did, it must've been pretty important. She gulped when she realized this. She was aware they did need to talk, but that didn't mean she was ready to have the talk. She wasn't ready for Stefan to call her out on her latest attitude. She wasn't ready for Stefan to hate her. And she sure as fuck wasn't ready for Stefan to close their chapter. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to their relationship.

"No, Stefan. It's not. We don't have anything to talk about." She whispered, looking down. She refused to acknowledge the big elephant in the room. If she did, it would be them ending the relationship they'd fought their hardest to save for 3 years; it would be saying hasta la vista to each other…

"Yes. We do, Elena!" Stefan snapped, standing up from his position on the bed. He was sick of Elena acting this way; he was sick of how Damon's ghost remained amongst them even when he'd been gone for a long time. But above all, he was sick of how Elena seemed to hold onto it; not letting go. She needed to let go!

-END FLASHBACK-

General POV

Elena shook her head to stop those thoughts. Right now was not the moment to start thinking of the youngest brother when she was with Damon. After their talk, she'd have all the time in the world to remember her break up with the younger Salvatore.

She looked up to Damon's face and saw it was just as Stefan's in her thoughts. It showed that she'd made him lose his patience and now she'd have to pay for it. She saw his eyes had adopted a cold look, and it frightened her. In the past, she'd already been on the receiving end of his coldness, and it wasn't something she'd ever enjoyed. She didn't like being left on the outside of Damon's self-protecting wall. She liked being on the inside, where he showed her what he really was like. Inside that awful wall she could see his true colors; his true self; the part of his being he hid from everyone, and only a few people got to see.

She used to be part of that 'few'…

"Damon…"she trailed off, softly; trying to get him to look at her the same warm way he used to the summer they'd spent looking for Stefan. You're a fool if you think he'll ever look at you that way again… her subconscious mocked her. She took a couple of cautious steps forward, closing the distance between them.

"Stop it, Elena!" he snarled, speeding to his not-so-little stash of bourbon. He grabbed an entire bottle, breaking its neck and drinking directly from the shattered glass.

"Stop what?" Elena's tone was still very soft; not wanting to rile him up even more than he already was.

"Giving me those little puppy eyes! You don't get to do that anymore! You lost that right three years ago!" he sped to her so he could yell those words on her face. Elena fought back tears at the reminder of her wrongdoings.

"I know I did!" she admitted. She didn't know where the newfound strength came from, but suddenly her voice had adopted a tone as aggressive as his. She really did not want their first conversation –after three years apart- to go like this. She wanted to tell him just how much she'd missed him; she wanted to tell him she loved him and that the time without him had been worse than hell itself. She wanted to finally be able to hug him again; to kiss him again. She wanted him to tell her he'd missed her, too; and that he still loved her just as much as he did before she broke his heart. She wanted him to tell her Irina was nothing else but a distraction. Just like so many others before her. Like Andie; like Rose; like Rebekah; like Sage… But deep down she knew none of this was true. Irina wasn't simply a distraction, a plaything. She felt it in her gut that he did love her. How much? Did he love Irina as much as he'd loved her? That she didn't know; but was dying to find out.

"Are you sure you do? Because it sure as hell seems like you don't, at all" he snapped at her; putting his famous smirk on. Elena wanted to punch it away.

Just as much as you want to kiss it away…

"I know I do! I'm very aware of what I've done! I know how much I made you suffer! I also know I deserve every bad thing in the world! I hurt you…" she closed the distance between them, and brought her hands up to cup his God-like face; her thumbs rubbing circles on his stubble cheeks.

"You didn't hurt me! I couldn't care less whether you chose me or not" he scoffed, slapping her hands away from his face. Of course he was lying; and it went against what he promised himself earlier, about voicing all the feelings he'd bottled up. But he realized he couldn't do that. It would make him vulnerable; and he couldn't be vulnerable in front of the girl that had never cared about him one little bit. The girl that had strung him along.

"Come on, Damon! Three years have passed, and you are still this childish person?" she took a step back when their close distance became too much to bear. "You still walk away from your problems, just like you did three years ago" she pleaded with him to open up to her. Truth was, she wasn't aware of the deal the brothers had made.

"I walk away from my problems? What about you, huh?" he reproached her, the smirk back in place. It would've accomplished its task, if she didn't know him so well. "If I recall correctly, you were the one that walked away from me, because you were so fucking scared of the unknown. Because you were scared of how life might be if you left Stefan. So, tell me Elena; who's the coward? Who's the one that fucking runs away?" the coldness returned to his eyes, and it froze her how much hatred he saw in those eyes, that in the past had held an ocean of possibilities. The eyes that had once burn like the sun for how much warmth they held. Now they were filled with the ugliest emotion; hate. The life that had once sparkled so bright in them, was now gone. They were dead. She had killed them. They held no feelings for her. Witnessing this finally spilled the tears she was trying so hard to fight.

It was so hard for Damon to keep his cold façade on. Especially when he'd seen her crying. He hated when she cried; and he hated it even more when he was the cause of her tears. But he wouldn't budge. He said he'd spill his emotions out, no matter who got hurt in the process.

"I know what I did! You don't have to rub it in my face!" she screamed at him, wiping away her tears. She was still the same Elena Gilbert she'd been as a human. She was still stubborn, and had a pride the size of the Everest. She refused to let Damon see her crying over him.

"Did you ever feel something for me at all? I bet not! How could good-girl Elena gilbert feel anything for her boyfriend's evil older brother, right? Am I wrong?!" his face was contorted in a psychotic way. The veins around his eyes were pulsating; his eyes kept turning from blue, to blood red; and his fangs elongated and retracted multiple times. It was a very scary sight. And Elena would have been terrified, if it wasn't because it was Damon Salvatore. She knew he'd never hurt her.

Basing on his previous behavior, I'd say otherwise…

Elena only shook her head, denying his statement, speeding to the other side of the room.

"Yes! You are!" she yelled from across the room. But Damon ignored her; too riled up to really care about anything she said.

"I bet I was just a plaything to you; wasn't I? It was a game to you; wasn't it? My love, it never mattered to you, did it? You wanted to see if you could get the evil Salvatore brother to change for you; and once he had, you'd just dump him for his pathetic younger brother! Am I wrong?!" a single tear made its way down his cheek; signaling the pain he was trying to hide but both of them knew he was feeling.

"Of course not! I did feel something for you! I cared about you! I still do!"

"Care" he scoffed. "Yeah, you've already told me that" his face was sour, and it broke her heart that he didn't believe her.

"I don't just care about you! I lo-" she screamed at the top of her lungs. Before Damon interrupted her mid-sentence.

"Don't you dare say 'you love me'!" he snarled at her, throwing his glass into the fireplace; causing it to burn brighter.

"Why not?!" she demanded, crossing her arms and tilting her hip. Her eyebrows rose in challenge.

"I don't want you to!" he snapped, turning his back to her.

"You've always wanted me to say it!" she snorted.

"There might've been a time where I would've gladly died just to hear those words coming out of your mouth-"

"What's changed?" she interrupted him just like he had.

"That time is gone. I have someone else in my life. Someone I love, and she loves me back. She doesn't see my love as a burden." He hissed venomously.

"Neither do I! Don't you dare say that! Because we both know it's not true! It's not a burden!" she looked down.

"You know where the problem lays, Elena?" Damon asked bitterly; he gave her no time to answer him. "You never let Stefan go. Even after everything he did to you, you still held onto him with all your being. It didn't matter if he told you that you were nothing but a human blood bag; or if he bit you; or if he almost drove you off of the same bridge your parents died on. No… it didn't matter. It never mattered to you that every time he rejected you, you came to me… giving me false hope. It never mattered to you that I would've done every-fucking-thing you asked me for. It didn't matter if you hurt me in the process, as long as I helped you get your epic love back. That's why my love was never enough for you, nor will it ever be!" Elena thought she could hear his voice actually breaking a little, but when she lifted her head to look at him, all she could see was coldness on his entire expression; proving her wrong.

"Will you fucking stop?!" she screamed; her anger was slowly drifting away, leaving only despair in its path. "Don't you see it's hurting me?" her voice shook. She'd thought her broken voice would snap something inside of Damon. The 'something' that had always softened at the sight of her tears and pain. But sadly, it didn't. His impassive face was still on, and it showed no signs of coming off. For the millionth time that day, her heart broke. She had already resigned that she'd let him go, and let him have a chance at happiness –even though she wished with all her being it could be with her; she knew perfectly well it could never be that way-.

"I think we missed the part where I'm supposed to care" his nostrils flattered; his upper lip retracted, showing his left fang.

"This isn't you, Damon! You're better than this" her voice was pleading with him. She wanted him to be the same caring, loving, and sweet Damon he was three years ago. But he was proving that that was nearing the impossible line.

"Stop talking about me like you know me, Elena. You. Don't. Know. Me! I'm not the same love-struck fool you think you knew back then. That Damon is gone! Stop waiting for him to come back, because he won't. That Damon is dead; you made sure of it!" there was what Damon always did when someone pushed him too much: he lashed out.

"No, he's not!" Elena cried. She couldn't believe what he'd just said. She knew she was the responsible for him going back to his old ways, but she'd never thought he'd say it out loud.

"Who are you trying to convince? Me, or yourself?" Damon spat, with a self-reassured smirk, meant to cover his agony.

"I'm not trying to convince anyone! That Damon still exists; deep down, you know he does!" she saw him scoff. "I'll prove it."

Just as those words had left her mouth she closed the distance that separated them. She cupped his face with both her hands, joining their lips together. At first, Damon tried to break free from her –really, he did-, but he couldn't. He didn't know why, though. Well, truth be told, he did; but he refused to acknowledge that fact. He was still struggling with himself, when he felt Elena's mouth sucking on his bottom lip, asking for entrance. At that moment all notion of good of bad left his mind. All he could focused on was the girl that was now exploring every millimeter of his mouth; the girl he'd thought he'd forgotten completely about, but in reality knew he hadn't.

The fireworks burst brighter than on the night of the 4th of July. The butterflies they both felt threatened to break free from their stomachs. A bomb could've exploded right next room; a volcano could've made eruption right aside them; the earth could've stopped spinning; and they wouldn't have noticed, nor cared. The only thing they cared about was the passionate kiss they were sharing at this moment.

Their tongues battled for dominance, neither one of them willing to lose. They kept going at it; their tongues battling restlessly. It was the perfect bittersweet goodbye kiss; and they knew it. They knew this kiss meant goodbye; and not hello. Things were too fucked up around them for it to be a hello, to be a new beginning.

Elena couldn't believe that she'd gotten to kiss him one more time. And what a kiss it was… She felt her knees turning into jelly, and if Damon wasn't holding her so tightly against his oh so hard body, she felt like she would actually fall to the ground. A year ago; hell, a week ago, she would've gladly let anyone drive a stake through her heart if it meant getting to see Damon just once more –even if it was just for one second-. But now, she hadn't only seen him, but she was kissing the hell out of him. She hadn't envisioned their first kiss, after she told him she loved him, to be like this one -full of hurt, and angst, and angriness-; however, she wasn't complaining. And it wasn't like he'd let her say those three words out loud…

Damon was thinking of how even after everything she'd put him through, he could still enjoy the feeling of her lips against his. He knew he shouldn't, but he did nonetheless. He knew he must've been fucked up if he was enjoying it, but at the time he didn't give a fuck. This was what his body had been craving for the last three years –not that he'd ever admit it, but still-. He wanted to stop thinking and let himself get lost in the feeling of her lips against his, so he shook those thoughts out of his head.

Elena felt him cupping her face, lifting it a little so he could have better access to her mouth, she happily complied. Her hands had found their way underneath his shirt and were now feeling the hard muscles of his stomach, –the muscles same muscles she'd felt the first timeshe kissed him- his hard abs were drool worthy –which she'd done more than once in her dreams-. Their kissing was escalating out of control fast; her hands were now at his hard pecs, enjoying the feeling of the hard muscle beneath them; her fingers were tweaking his -by now- hard and sensitive nipples, which caused Damon to let out a groan of pleasure. His hands hadn't stayed at his sides, either. They'd found their way south, and were now cupping her ass; bringing her closer. He had brought her so close to him that she could feel the sign of his arousal poking her core; and it made a river flow down her folds. Damon could smell her arousal and it turned him on even more than he already was. His erection was rock hard by now, and it was begging to be freed from its confines. And he would have done exactly that, had the image of Irina's disappointed face not entered his mind.

The image worked perfectly at making him feel like earth's shittiest walker ever. With all his strength, he pushed Elena off him; and wiped his lips with the back of his hand, disgusted with himself. God, what the fuck is wrong with you! You have a girlfriend! Irina, you remember her? The girl that helped you get over the selfish bitch, whose face you just sucked…?

"You can't kiss me again" Damon hissed, angrier with himself than with her. "It's not right" Elena couldn't believe how bad those words stung. It was all a déjà vu. Guess this is what he felt when you said these same words to him… her conscience whispered maliciously.

"No, it's right. It's just not right now" she repeated the same words Damon had answered her with the night Stefan tried to drive her off of Wickery Bridge. Damon shook his head enraged; then, he turned his back to her, making his way to the door.

Elena's heart broke all over again, watching his retreating form, walking out on her once again.