If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance.
- Bern Williams
In the dull light of the restaurant Elena smiled at Damon, who was making some stupidly hilarious joke about something unethical and most likely offensive. He smiled back at her, sipping the bourbon that was in his hand.
"You're different." She muttered, placing her hand on his. He looked down at it like it was odd, like she'd never shown him affection, and his eyes wandered back up to hers.
"Would you like me to abuse you or something?" He asked expectantly, and she rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"I just mean, when you used to go out with Caroline, or when I was with Stefan, you were never this… free, this light-hearted. Everything was so serious and mysterious, but you're happy. I can see it." She said, looking deep into the ocean blue of his eyes. It was true. Whenever she'd spend time with him and Caroline, Elena and him would throw witty words of hatred and annoyance at each other. They would usually end up at: 'you're such a jerk, I don't understand how anyone can tolerate you' or 'do you want to battle to the death, little girl, because I could take you.' Elena had come to appreciate their bantering over time. Everything was less 'I hate you' and more flirty and 'I like you.' Thank God for that or they'd both be punching holes through each other's stomachs out of boredom.
"If you tell anyone I'm nice to you, I might just have to kill you." Damon shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.
"You're tremendous at killing the mood, you do know that right?" Elena asked, raising her eyebrows at him, and all he returned was a nod and a smirk.
"" Elena asked, sitting on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table. Damon spotted the half empty bottle of wine and rolled his eyes.
"You, little one, have gotten yourself into the wine cabinet, haven't you?" He asked, taking away the glass she was drinking from. Elena pouted and rose to her feet.
"Damon, give it back!" She groaned, hopping on her tippy toes as he rose the glass over his head and out of her reach. "Fine, I'll go straight for the source then." She shrugged, quickly picking up the bottle and taking a swig.
"Elena, stop drinking." He set down the glass and moved closer to her.
"Why? You drink whisky faster than I could run. And that, by the way, is quite fast. Wanna race?" She asked in an excited slur, taking another swig.
"No, I don't want to race. You're such a strange drunk." He commented, grabbing her waist to attempt to get the wine. She "accidentally" stumbled into his chest and giggled. She looked up at him, and he had that 'what are you up to?' look on his face. Her lips were suddenly dry and she licked them hastily, leaning closer and closer to him. "Elena," He warned. "It's Saturday night, I'm not kissing you until Monday."
"I'm not kissing you, we're… snuggling. I never made a rule about snuggling."
"Fine, let's snuggle. Without alcohol in your hands." Damon said, snatching the wine and whisking away, leaving a pissed off Elena in the middle of the living room.
"When did my life get to being such a shit storm of shittiness?" She asked, sitting down on the fluffy white sheets the next afternoon. "Lie to me." She whispered. "Tell me that when I get home, everything's going to be okay."
"Fine." He said, combing a hand through her hair and pressing his lips to her dark brown roots. "Everything is going to be awful. We're all going to die at the age of thirty. You'll never make friends ever again. You'll never see the sun, or get to fall in love." He chuckled softly in her ear and she returned him a giggle. "Should I continue lying?" He asked. Instead of telling him to stop, she nodded with a genuine smile.
Damon leaned back against the headboard and took in a long breath. "You'll never see Jeremy or Jenna or any of your friends because they'll be avoiding you. You'll never get married and have a family. You'll never eat… popcorn or watch television. You'll never play in the grass, or go to the beach." Damon paused to listen to the beautiful chiming of her laughter. "You'll never sing terribly loud to your favorite song. You'll never watch another episode of Desperate Housewives because you hate that show and it's awful. You'll never bake cookies for some stupid bake sale that your kid's school is having. You'll never laugh so hard that you cry, or cry so hard that you wish you could remember what is was like to laugh."
"Why are you so optimistic?" She asked, looking down to play with her thumbs. "What happened to mean, dark Damon? He was so hot." She smirked and he laughed. He moved off the headboard and tackled her backwards, pinning her arms above her head.
"Really? Because mean Damon is just waiting to get out." He growled playfully, and she wrestled to get one hand free to touch his cheek.
"You're not mean. You never were. You just pretend to be so that it doesn't ruin your bad boy rep." She stated, tracing the pad of her thumb over his lips.
"That's unfair. I'm mean, and cruel." He shrugged biting her thumb and using his free hand to caress her cheek with the back of his hand. "And I… punch people." He smirked and listened to her cute laugh. "You have the most beautiful smile I have ever seen." He whispered, resting his forehead just below her neck, nuzzling his face into the soft fabric of her wool sweater. "You're so warm." He snuggled against her further and she tilted her head back, letting her mouth fall open. Her hair was splayed around her, and with Damon above her, she'd felt the most comfortable she had in weeks. Her large sweater reached just under her waist and her little black tights showed him exactly how tiny she really was.
Damon nuzzled further, his hands resting on her waist and hers tangling in his hair. He knew neither one of them would be making any moves. They would both honor their 'no kissing, no sex' agreement. They lay there for a while until Elena heard Damon stomach growl and she smiled, rolling him off of her and grabbing his hand to lead him downstairs.
"Feed me, woman." He said, hopping up on the countertop and watching as she moved quietly around the kitchen.
"Number thirty-two. I'm horrible at cooking." She explained, looking through the fridge for something to make.
"Grilled cheese." He requested. "It's simple to make."
"That it is." She agreed, taking bread out of the cupboard and cheese out of fridge and preparing them both what was now dinner. It continued to get later and later, and as Elena found herself lounging on Damon's lap in front of the large window overlooking the lake, she glanced at the small clock to their left. Damon didn't seem to notice anything; he was staring outside at the moon which reflected over the water to make the prettiest view. They sipped their wine and cuddled into each other's bodies comfortably.
"Number thirty-three. I love the moon." He whispered into her ear, allowing a chill to run down her spine.
"Number thirty-three. I love this. Just sitting here with you." She said, rubbing a hand soothingly over his chest.
"Number thirty-five." Damon whispered so quietly that if his lips weren't pressed to her ear she wouldn't have heard him. "I love you."
She smiled and took his glass away from him, setting them both on the table beside them. She twisted in his lap to straddle his waist. "Number thirty-five. It's twelve o'clock, the week is over." He stared at her for a second until their lips met in a bruising kiss. She kissed him with such passion that he thought he'd die, but he smiled against her lips and whispered "Slow."
Their pace slowed immediately and her hands were on his waist and chest and his were roaming all over her body. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he stood, making his way to the stairs. Their lips were fused together, their arms locked around each other. Elena barely ever came up for air, but when she did and they finally made it to her room, Damon kissed along her neck and collar bone. He kicked open the door, laying her gently on her bed and climbing on top of her with such grace. Elena laughed at Damon's trembling hands as he pulled her shirt over her head. It wasn't from being nervous; it was from waiting so long to do this. To kiss and touch her. This wasn't meaningless sex with a sorority girl, this was him and this was Elena.
He got an eyeful of her bra when he pressed open mouthed kissing along her chest, nibbling and sucking on the skin there. Black lace. Damon's two favorite words. He was anxious to take off her tights now, but she made him wait by pulling off his shirt agonizingly slowly. Slow. This was that they both wanted. It was meaningful now. They shared a connection on a deeper level; this wasn't sneaking behind Caroline's back anymore. This was falling in love. He almost died a little inside when he found out that she was wearing matching panties.
He didn't think Elena Gilbert could be more perfect than she already was, but as her hands slinked downwards to the button on his jeans, he found himself cursing God for making her this great. They'd waited, and it was more perfect than either of them imagined it would be. After so long, weeks and weeks of nothing, Damon finally found himself falling in love with her over and over again.
All his. She was all his.
The next morning, Elena stumbled out of bed as if she was high from her previous activities with the man lying beside her. She looked down at him and pursed her lips. Damon was a beautiful creature, but when he slept, he still sort of had that dangerous look to him. Like he could kill anyone he met with just a glare of those piercing blue eyes. She smiled and looked around the room, finding his button up and putting it on. She lay back down on the bed beside Damon, their noses almost touching. Damon instinctively wrapped his arms around her tiny body. In the process, his eyes wandered open and a small smile formed on his lips.
"Good morning beautiful." He whispered, nuzzling closer to her, tangling their limbs together.
"For a badass, you're quite the sweet talker." She giggled, kissing his nose. He smiled and she jumped on top on him, straddling him sweetly. She pressed her body against him and their lips connected softly. After a minute or so, she rolled out of bed. "I need to shower." She said, making her way to the bathroom.
"Is that an invitation?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.
"There's always room for more." She shrugged, running into the bathroom as he chased her. After their not very productive shower, they collapsed into bed together, Elena's hair whipping at his chest. The phone rang and Elena pried herself out of Damon's grasp.
"Hello?" She asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, Damon began to nibble and suck on her ear lobes, causing her to giggle quietly. She's never felt any of this when she was with Matt, Stefan or Tyler and she was positive he'd never felt like this with Caroline or any of his past conquests. Except maybe Katherine.
"Elena?" A male voice asked.
"Stefan?" Damon stopped immediately, pulling the phone in her hand in a direction so that they could both hear.
"There's been an accident. I think you should come home."
yayyyyyy delena! finally they can have sex and kiss after being all cute for a couple chapters.
now theres gonna be a problem back home that they have to tend to...
please review and i'll love you alot!