1864.

Katherine Pierce stood in the sunlight as it streamed through her high paned window at the Salvatore Mansion. Her neck was held high as she looked into the yard below, her eyes on the Salvatore brothers. Her hand maiden, Emily Bennett, moved her fingers skillfully as she quickly tightened Katherine's corset.

"They are beautiful, aren't they?"

"Yes," Emily sighed.

Katherine turned, the ribbon pulled from Emily's hand.

"What," Katherine asked, her tone was hard.

"Nothing."

"That's right, now finish lacing me up and help me with my dress," Katherine said smoothly.

Emily was stone faced as she grabbed the dress off of Katherine's bed. It was crème colored silk, adorned with small patterned pink rosettes. The neckline was low and not the kind of dress for a demure daytime look. The sleeves were short, exposing her pale thin arms.

"You scandalize yourself wearing this," Emily remarked.

"Of course I do. I refuse to wear a dress buttoned to my chin—far too matronly for a beauty such as myself. I am like fine china. I am meant to be displayed for all to see."

Emily smirked, "Always the belle of the ball."

"Of course," Katherine smiled, "Have you seen Pearl?"

Pearl was Katherine's long time friend, confidante, and fellow vampire.

"She's downstairs breakfasting with Jonathan Gilbert."

"Ha!"

"Shall I get her for you?"

"Yes, "Katherine paused, "and take your leave."

Emily fluffed Katherine's dress and exited the room. Katherine hummed "The Girl I Left Behind Me," and sat into her vanity chair, staring at her reflection. She picked up her soft bristle brush with its ivory hilt and slid it through her waterfall of chestnut hair, lost in thought.

"You asked for me," Pearl interrupted, closing the door behind her. She locked it and turned back to Katherine expectantly.

"Yes," Katherine said smoothly. "Sit."

Pearl made no move to do so and stared at Katherine.

"What is it," she asked impatiently.

"So I've become aware that you've become quite taken with Jonathan Gilbert? How absolutely sweet."

Pearl arched her brow. She was beautiful. With her exotic eyes and high cheekbones, Pearl carried herself with an air of confidence. Her hair was pulled back conservatively from her face and fashioned in a bun. Her dress was dark lavender, complimenting her eyes. It had a high buttoned collar and full skirt.

"You're jealous," Pearl said—more a remark than a question.

Katherine's laugh was light.

"Hardly," she said, "I'm just amused at the spectacle. Do you think he'd be as entranced with his foreign little bird if he knew it had fangs?"

"Katherine…"

Katherine stood, putting down her brush.

"I'm merely posing a rhetorical question, Love. What do you think?"

Her skirts rustled as she moved towards Pearl. The back of her hand grazed her cheek. Pearl shut her eyes, a small resistant sigh escaping her lips.

"He doesn't know you, Pearl. He doesn't want to know you. Do you know what he sees?"

Katherine turned her palm into Pearl's cheek. Her hand drifted down to her neck, her finger flicking off the buttons of her dress one by one.

"Katherine," Pearl warned, "Stop."

"Or what," Katherine bit into her own lip, her eyes sparkling wickedly.

Pearl's dress was open to her waist, her black corset peering through. Her top of her breasts were pouring over the lace hem, her skin soft and luminescent.

"He sees this," Katherine said softly, her fingers sliding over the corset, Pearl's breasts. Then they drifted over the skirt of her dress and to the cleft between her legs. "And this."

Pearl moved away suddenly.

"Damn you, Katherine," she hissed quickly, gathering the garment over the corset. "When will it stop? You want everyone to love you, man or woman. And you don't care who you hurt along the way. Look at those boys outside," she gestured out of the window, "I've seen how you look at them-"

"Now who is jealous?" She laughed.

Pearl advanced on Katherine, her hand at her neck and pressed her into the wall.

"I'm heartsick with you. We all are. We are your toys. God save anyone who gets in your way."

Katherine swatted her hand away and grabbed a fist full of Pearl's bun and yanked her face to her.

"There is no God, Pearl. Only me."

She crushed her mouth, hard, into Pearl's. Taking. Claiming. Owning.

Damon handed a blood bag to Elena, a bright pink straw punctured through the plastic.

Elena looked up at Damon, amused. He sat down on the couch beside her.

Damon shrugged, "Damned if I do and damned if I don't."

Elena stared at the bag guiltily.

"Someone else could be using this blood, Damon. Someone who needs it."

"You need it. Drink it."

Elena slowly brought the straw to her lips. As soon as the blood poured into her mouth, she was insatiable. She clutched the bag in a feral way and sucked until there was nothing left. The bag crinkled inward with the force of the vacuum pressure. Shame filled her. She was acting like an animal and worse yet, Damon was watching her every move. She looked up at him, only to see his attention was not on her. He stared into the fireplace, his eyes vacant but clearly lost in thought. She put the bag down at her side and took Damon's hand.

"Where are you?"

Damon looked up.

"Nowhere," he changed the subject, "So Stefan has been begging me to move back in..."

"Begging? What? What's up with you two? One minute he is leaving, the next he is staying."

Damon shrugged. "He had a change of heart and I've gotten ridiculously soft."

"Well, it'll be nice to have you two spend time together."

"Don't count on it," his turned towards Elena, "Don't make me regret this."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That means if I smell him on you, I wouldn't think twice to drive a stake through your black heart."

"You know, you have a serious complex."

"Funny, Freud told me the same thing."

"Freud? Sigmund Freud? Wait. You knew him?"

Damon smiled sarcastically. "You'll never know."

Elena pushed his shoulder playfully before leaning in and kissing his cheek. She caught herself doing this more often. Kissing him randomly, grabbing his hand to hold and snuggling against him without a second thought. Something about it felt…nice.

It wasn't something that had gone unnoticed with Damon. He was very aware of every time she kissed him. Every time she initiated sex. Every time she curled into his body in the middle of the night. Every time that she murmured his name in dreams. And every time she murmured Stefan's name. He knew there was something still there between the two of them and it disgusted him. It made his skin crawl and in flooded his veins with rage. He almost wished he'd catch them in a lascivious act so he could kill her and his brother. All he needed was for Elena to breech her word and he would sever everything. But she had done nothing to the contrary. She had been loyal, though clearly emotional. There was ice around his heart and he found that she was constantly there, holding a candle, trying to melt it.

He didn't know what to feel.