καταναλωτής

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a/n: Hey guys (: The story passed 100 reviews! Thank you so much. I wasn't expecting it, considering how overdue the last chapter was. And yes, this one is far overdue, mainly because I had trouble writing it, and also because of Fanfiction. They removed one of my stories because I used the word "bitch" in my summary, and according to their guidelines (which I seriously doubt many people read) summaries have to be G rated. Personally I find it silly, because I rated the story T and if any readers didn't want to run into profanity, they could always search for G rated stories. But whatever. I'm curious to hear if it has happened to any of you. I've never had an issue with it before, which makes me wonder if a) Fanfiction is buckling down on that kind of thing, or b) someone reported me. Oh well. I'm not going to hold a grudge. End rant.

Here is the next chapter. I put part of it from Damon's perspective, trying out something new, so hopefully you all like that. I hope you all fully enjoy it. Thank you for being such faithful readers and reviewers. Reviews are ever welcome :)

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part seven

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Closing in... I hope that you make it.
Closing in... I hope that you find your way.
Closing in... its all that I want in the whole world.
Closing in... please be there, please be there.

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"Elena."

"No."

"My back doesn't have spikes growing out of it," Damon groans, rubbing his forehead.

"I just, I-" Elena stutters, biting her lower lip and wincing at it snags on the tips of one of the fangs buried in her gums. "Isn't there a seatbelt or something?"

Damon gives her a "are-you-kidding-me" look, his eyes staying locked on her face until she blushes and has to look away. Her eyes flicker dimly as they glance towards the floor and her cheeks deflate as a long sigh exits her body, leaving her cheeks hollow and pale. Seconds later, Elena straightens, a smile blooming on her lips, stretched much too far too be real.

"Do I look like a car?" Damon asks at last, choosing to ignore her physical symptoms for the time, knowing that it will only embarrass Elena and earn him a few weak punches. He flings his hand up in resignation. "I mean, I know that you want to ride me, but-"

"Shut up," Elena snaps, turning bright red. "I just-"

He chuckles, holding out his hand and waiting for Elena to take it. When she continues to hover away from his outstretched palm, Damon frowns. "I already told you that you don't have to be scared of me."

Slowly, Elena shakes her head. Damon can see colorful memories playing out in her eyes, things she has claimed to let go of but never truly will.

"Elena," Damon says, brow furrowing. "Have you ever let anyone but Stefan carry you while you travel at a supernatural speed?" He pauses. "Willingly. Klaus doesn't count."

"I chose him, Damon," Elena mumbles, her voice almost too faint to hear. "It's always going to be Stefan."

"I know," Damon answers, watching her fold in on herself. It's always going to be Stefan. She uses the words like a safety blanket, too scared to peel out from behind them and face the world head on. From the state of her eyes, Elena still seems to be trapped in the midst of a memory from long ago when everything was rainbows and sunshine with Stefan. Watching her suffer like this, silently, is one of the worst things Elena can allow him to go through. "Come on, Elena," he adds gently, reaching out for her hand. Elena lets him pull her closer.

"Where are we going?" Elena asks him, arching her eyebrows.

He smiles at her persistence, pulling her closer until their faces are only a few inches apart. Then he leans forward, his smile widening as she shivers, and whispers, "I have no idea. But do you honestly think I'd tell you even if I did know?"

Elena clamps her hands down on his wrists, and Damon half expects her to pull away and tell him to screw himself. He imagines the familiar frustration on her face as she explains to him that it is always going to be Stefan. "Are you trying to make some kind of point?" she asks instead, her voice troubled.

Inhaling slowly and briefly noting their proximity, the way in which Elena has shifted her weight and allowed them to remain so close to one another, Damon asks, "And what point would that be?"

Elena's lips part, the words halting at the tip of her tongue. A flush creeps across her face, lighting it up astoundingly bright. "Let's go," she mutters at last, touching her forehead and wincing. Damon can see her fingers trembling with the effort. She's much weaker than she is letting on.

"Still scared of riding me?" Damon teases, turning so that his back is facing her. He can practically feel Elena rolling her eyes behind him.

"You'll never stop, will you?" Elena asks softly, wrapping her arms loosely about his neck and fitting her face in between his shoulder-blades. She sighs into his black t-shirt, wriggling about until she feels a little more comfortable. Her eyelids flutter, threatening to close, but shoot open quickly when Damon grabs her legs and hoists them up about his waist. "Give a girl a warning, would you?" she grumbles, snuggling closer into his back and deciding that it isn't fair how utterly comfortable it is to lie her like this.

"Sorry," Damon says under his breath, turning around as she yawns.

His blue eyes pierce her. She hasn't seen them so warm and tender since they rested together on his bed counting down his last moments, since she slid over and kissed him just to keep his eyes open for one more minute, just one more minute. Elena had never allowed herself to think about that night, other than in its barest form, but if she were honest, she would say that she kissed Damon to keep him here with her. That, and she'd been thinking about his lips a little too much and hadn't been able to help herself. Had it been instinct, or premeditated? She doesn't know.

"You can rest, you know," Damon says.

Elena jumps, tearing her eyes away from his face and trying not to blush again as she realizes that she's been staring at him.

"Not tired," she answers quickly, refusing to look at him.

"Don't worry," Damon teases, "you weren't drooling. You were only staring creepily into my eyes, like you were trying to suck my soul out or something."

Digging her fingernails into his shoulder, Elena glares at the dark haired Salvatore. "Are we going to go or not?" she grumbles.

"Raunchy," Damon says, barking a laugh. "Didn't pinpoint you for the "put-it-in" kind of girl. But if you insist..."

"You know what I meant, Damon," Elena mumbles, unable to keep from smiling. She buries her face into his back, trying to surpress her flushing cheeks. It is beginning to hurt.

"Alright, alright," Damon says. She closes her eyes, freezing just a little as his fingers ghost over her left hand and tangle with hers for just a moment. Then she smiles.

It doesn't even feel like they're moving. Everything is still, save for the breeze blowing through Elena's hair. Cracking open one eye, Elena prepares to ask Damon why the hell he's sitting here and getting off by having her on his back, when she realizes that they are, in fact, moving. She gasps, tightening her hold about Damon's neck and watching the colors blurring around her like a fleeting rainbow.

"You okay?" Damon grunts, tracing her thumb with his own until she stops shaking.

Elena nods against the back of his neck, taking a deep breath. "Yeah," she answers cautiously after a pause. "I just- whenever I would do this with Stefan, he always wanted me to keep my eyes closed."

"Ah," Damon says, chuckling sarcastically. "My brother, ever the over-protective den mother."

"He meant well," Elena argues, trying to defend the man whom she gave her heart to last year. No matter what has happened between them, she would never bash Stefan, especially not in Damon's presence.

"Of course he did. He always does," Damon says, glancing back at her. "But see, Stefan forgets that sometimes even humans need to live." Elena watches how the breeze tosses his dark hair in every direction and smiles at the messy state in which it is left. Damon smiles back at her, dropping his bitterly sarcastic act for a moment. "Elena," he breathes.

Elena's breath catches in her chest. "Damon," she begins, unable to help herself. She has always pushed him away. This is their game.

Damon shakes his head, silently telling her that he's not trying to seduce her or attempting to change her mind. "Look around," he whispers.

She does. Suddenly, Elena isn't sure how to breathe. Below them, Damon's feet blur a beautiful pattern of midnight blue, sapphire and silver, blending so effortlessly against the soft green grass. If she focuses enough, Elena can make out the outline of trees bending in the wake of Damon's speed, sending jade petals spinning free. Overhead, the sky and clouds mold into an unimaginable range of colors, spinning and guiding them forward. Thousands of smells invade her senses, overwhelming her and making her face open up. Her hair dances with a handful of rose petals, tangling and greeting. The faster they move, the closer the stars seem to appear, shining gloriously down and casting a silvery-gold edge to the craggy mountains ahead of them. It is all so sensual, so indescribable. Elena's tongue dries up in her throat, ties itself into knots.

Damon's eyes trace her face, trying to gauge her reaction, so blue that it hurts. This is beauty. He is beauty. This is...this is...she can't begin to think about it. All Elena knows is that there is nothing monstrous about this. All of this is simply beautiful.

"Well?" Damon asks, though from the satisfied, tender expression on his face, it seems that he doesn't really need to ask. He can read her face well enough.

"I- I," Elena stutters, unable to think of a good place to begin or end. "Why didn't Stefan show me any of this?"

"Because you weren't ready for it," Damon answers. His fingers tighten around hers, and suddenly he looks sad again. "How could you ever see just how beautiful and priceless life is until you were preparing to die?"

It's hard to swallow. Elena can feel tears stinging the back of her eyes.

"I want to show you something," Damon says, apparently not expecting an answer to his earlier question.

"What's that?" Elena croaks.

Damon slows to a jog and then stops. Gingerly, Elena slides down, swaying on her feet as soon as she hits the ground. Damon snakes a hand around her waist, keeping her upright, and Elena pretends to ignore it. They have to address the little touches, the long stares, the quick glances at each others' lips soon enough, but now is not the time. When she looks up at Damon, Elena jumps in surprise. His face looks sunken, drawn with misery and past regrets that he can't fix.

"Damon," Elena murmers, taking his hand.

He looks down, allowing her to slide her fingers through his.

"I want to tell you about my mother," Damon says, keeping his face emotionless. She can see the torture in his eyes, however. "Consider this a part of your bucket list."

"A part of my bucket list?" Elena asks, confused.

"You don't think I heard you asking about my mother to Stefan whenever you spent the night in his bed?" Damon asks, smiling tightly.

Elena flushes once again. "That's none of your business."

"Isn't it?" Damon asks, pulling her forward past the shelter of the ancient tree behind them. In the distance, there is the sound of crickets chirping and bullfrogs croaking. Wasps buzz near to the ground, dancing about her ankles. Elena kicks them away, scared that one of them might sting her. She's hated them ever since she was a little kid.

"Be honest," Elena says, squeezing his hand. "Why do you want me to know about your mother? You never found it necessary before." She allows him to lead her past the row of oak trees in front of them stretching towards the skies. Everything is so quiet here. Save the sound of their feet crunching against bits of bark, and the cry of a lone crow, there is nothing. To both sides, a faint mist glimmers in the darkness, and in front of them, Elena can make out the outline of what appears to be a sign.

"It wasn't necessary when you were hell-bent on living," Damon mutters.

"That's not it," Elena insists. "You wouldn't trust me with it before. Why now?" As much as she is afraid of hearing Damon tell her just how much he loves her, another part of her quivers with anticipation. But he doesn't answer like she expects.

"Because she's the reason I chose to turn," Damon says grimly.

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to be continued

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