Hello, friends! Here you have it, chapter three. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it (even though I was in no such mood to write what with this damned heat). I hope you get swept away by the man himself Damon Salvatore. I know he did to me;). And here you have it, folks. Chapter three. Read on, friends, read on:
I can't be with you, Elena.
With a startled gasp, I shot up in bed, the words echoing through my mind. I ducked my head, trying to settle my shaky breath. Feeling my head throb nastily, I rubbed the sides of my temples with my fingertips. My throat constricted painfully. The pain, the words, all of what happened yesterday didn't even seem real. I tried to live in this possibility that I had imagined it all or that maybe it was just a really bad nightmare. But my body refused to see it that way. It thrust forward the pain, the numbness, the memory of Stefan's heartbreaking words as he ended his relationship with me.
For my safety.
I threw myself back down on my mangled pillow, still wet from the tears I shed yesterday and groaned, frustrated. Had I not been so stupid to trust that Declan yesterday and let him hurt me, I would still be with Stefan. I would still have him to comfort me, to reassure me that Declan would never hurt me again, no matter what, as long as I had him to protect me.
Why at this very moment, I would have probably received a good morning text from him. I always did, every morning before school and on the weekends as well. I looked down at my phone, willing it to vibrate and ring obnoxiously as a message from Stefan appears on my screen. But my phone remained motionless, still and silent as a corpse against my white sheets.
It was no use. No matter how hard I tried, how hard I wished, I knew deep down inside, Stefan would keep his promise. He would stay away from me and remain broken up with me so long as it meant that no danger would come near me. I shook my head, feeling my face melt into a warp of sadness that tugged at my broken heart repeatedly. I stood up from bed, holding a hand to the nightstand as I struggled to regain my balance. Running a tired hand through my hair, I went to the bathroom to rinse my face. Opening the door, I went to the mirror in my bathroom and gazed at my reflection. I let out a gasp of shock, my eyes widening until I was sure they would explode in size.
My face was covered in red, mangled scars that stood out hideously against my skin, already paled until the olive tone was nearly reduced to a frightened white. Six distinct scars, three on each side of my face, stood out to me the most. Declan had raked his claws so deep into my cheeks that they resembled bloody, nasty crop rows. He had cut into them with ease, as though my skin was made of clay or dirt. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and turned around, examining my shoulder in the mirror. Trailing my shoulders and arms like a line of blue and green jewels were bruises, some large and some small. I turned around to my other side and found it the same way.
Feeling like I could no longer stare at the injuries on my body, I let down my hair, which flawlessly covered my bruises. I reached up and gingerly pressed my fingers to the scars on my cheeks and forehead. My scars didn't hurt, but I figured that I should leave them be. They would heal in time. I bent over the sink and rinsed my face, careful to avoid ripping open any wounds. I patted my face dry and closed the door behind me on my way out of the bathroom.
I made my way out of my room and down the stairs, the scent of scrambled eggs and bacon grabbing my attention and hauling me to the kitchen, were I caught sight of Jenna jamming away to a song on the radio while cooking breakfast. Her hair was pulled back into a long, blond ponytail that swung back and forth to the beat of her dance steps. I could hear her humming to herself as she watching the sizzling bacon on the stove.
I used to be a dancer, and always had a passion for it when I was little. When I got to high school, the closet thing it had to dance was the cheerleading squad, so naturally, I joined. It was a lot of fun being on the squad. I made many friends and it helped tone my body. But then, the local gym had started giving dance lessons around the time of the accident. My mother had signed me up and intended on taking me to my lessons, but she never got the chance. Since then, I sort of lost my taste for dancing and shut the dream away, taking comfort in my diary. Watching Jenna, I wondered if I would be dancing now, had my mother not been killed.
Jenna must have sensed someone watching her because slowed down her dancing and turned around, the ponytail coming to stop.
"Hey, morning kiddo," She grinned sheepishly, but pursed her lips sadly at the sight of my mauled face. Now, it was my turn to smile and I did awkwardly, for the scars bothered me. I looked away and pulled a chair out from the table.
"I, uh, take it you didn't sleep well," Jenna said, turning her attention back to the eggs and bacon. I sighed, rubbing my eyes.
"Was it that obvious? What gave it away?" I asked, looked at her through an open eye.
"I was gonna say the scars from your accident, but I think now it was more those bags under your eyes," She smiled, gesturing with her spatula. It took me a moment to remember that Damon had mind-compelled my poor aunt into thinking my scars are a result of a nasty fall. It worked well, thankfully, as he saved me from a hell of a lot of explaining I would have had to do.
"So, what are you going to do today?" She asked, serving me a plate of eggs and bacon. She walked back to the radio and turned the music down. I thought for a moment.
"You know, I think I'm just going to go to the Grill, catch up on writing," I said. Jenna sat down next to me and began wolfing down her breakfast.
"Alright. Do you want anything for those injuries?" She asked through a mouthful of bacon, motioning with her fork. I shook my head.
"I'm fine, it doesn't hurt," I said, looking away, trying to hide it with my hair. My plan didn't work. If anything, it failed. Jenna peered at me sadly, studying my scars. She reached out, running a finger gently down my wound. I pushed her hand away. Jenna flinched.
"Is everything alright, kiddo?" She asked, poking around her food.
"No, I'm fine, really," I said.
I couldn't tell her about my break-up with Stefan without revealing the entire vampire situation to her. She would freak and either tell the sheriff… or send me to a mental hospital. I couldn't stand the idea of putting Damon and Stefan in harms' way. The sheriff was a little vampire obsessed and would do anything to "eliminate" these "blood sucking creatures of Satan" from our town.
"Okay," she said slowly, dragging out each word. I nodded and stood up, walking back towards the stairwell. I turned around and found my aunt staring at me quizzically, her head tilted toward my plate of cold food. I rushed back to the kitchen and picked up my plate, heading back towards the stairs without a word. I could hear my aunt sigh heavily as I bounded up the stairs with such speed; it was practically a miracle my food was still on my plate. I walked back to my room, closing the door behind me and letting it shut with a slam.
I sat down on my bed, abandoning the breakfast plate on my nightstand. Suddenly, the door creaked open again. Jeremy, my previously-mentioned, cousin and adoptive little brother, poked his head around door. Even though he wasn't my real brother, it wasn't difficult finding any similarity between him and me. His shaggy waves of hair were the same dark color as mine. He had the same deep, chocolate eyes, though his took on a rather sleepy look. Standing next to me, he towered multiple inches, nearly reaching six feet tall.
"Hey, is everything alright? I heard the door slam," He said, jerking his head to the hallway.
"Everything's fine, really," I replied dryly. I picked up a random book from my nightstand and attempted to feign interest in the meaningless words on the page.
"No. No, it's not," Jeremy said, insistently. He closed the door cautiously behind him and stepped towards me, perching on the edge of my bed. He placed an encouraging hand on my knee. "Come on, Elle. Talk to me."
Jeremy was recently recovering from his very notorious druggie-slash-alcoholic past, which included fellow druggie addict and occasional hook-up Vickie Donovan. They eventually started dating, but it all ended when Vickie was turned into a vampire, courtesy of Damon. She became a dangerous threat to everyone, leaving Stefan no choice but to have him drive a stake through her heart. Jeremy was devastated but recovered. He quit all forms of drugs and alcohol, started going to school and actual began doing his homework. Since then, he's become a really good, trustworthy kid.
I considered it for a moment. Jeremy knew about the existence of vampires. He became vampire-obsessed after researching the topic for some type of essay. This ended with me having to fess up the truth to him after he began to incessantly pester me about it. He thankfully managed to keep his mouth shut.
But Jeremy is only sixteen-soon-to-be-going-on-seventeen. He has already been in one too many dangerous situations that are way too mature for people his own age. I don't want him getting involved in this whole Declan situation. Jeremy might end up doing something stupid and his recklessness would finish with him on the end of a stake or with a broken neck, courtesy of an angry Declan. I don't want him to get hurt.
"Elena, I know you didn't get those injuries from a bad "fall". It's impossible. So why don't you tell me what happened. Damon didn't compel me, you know," Jeremy reasoned smartly. I looked up at him and sighed sadly.
"Stefan broke up with me," I said frostily. Jeremy's jaw tightened angrily.
"What, why?" He asked, narrowing his sleepy eyes, his fist clenching together tightly. "What did that jerk do to you?"
"Jeremy, he was trying to protect me. It was for my own good and…" I felt myself trail off. I looked up at my brother. Jeremy waited expectantly, drumming his fingers on his knees. I took a deep breath, realizing I had no other choice but to tell Jeremy everything. I told him about the "supervised" trip to the library, my encounter with Declan on the outskirts of the woods and his kidnapping me, resulting in me getting injured.
"...so that's why he broke up with me. If I'd worn the vervain, I would have been okay," I said, finished my tale. Jeremy's eyes widened.
"So, what did this ripper want?" Jeremy asked.
"I don't know. Nobody knows but Stefan, who met him a few years ago but that's all," I explained, shrugging.
"Man, that really sucks, Elena. But don't worry, you'll be okay. You'll see," Jeremy patted my knee reassuringly and got up to leave. He turned around and smiled at me, but his attention suddenly flashed to the plate of bacon and eggs. "Hey, you gonna eat those?"
"No, go ahead," I said, nudging it to him. Jeremy swooped down and with the plate in hand, left my room. I could hear him crunching down on Jenna's bacon. I shook my head and laughed. I got up and peeled off my pajamas, replacing them with a green V-neck pulled over a lacy white tank top, jeans and some boots, as the weather was getting colder by the day. I pulled on my coat and threw my diary and a book in my bag. I combed my hair, applied the slightest bit of makeup and left my room, closing it softly behind me.
I bounded downstairs, pulling fuzzy black gloves over my fingers. Jenna spotted me from the kitchen and nodded at me. I nodded back and walked out the door, a blast of chilled November air hitting my face. It would be at a time like this that taking the car would be a good idea, but the Grill was a short walk away. Might as well put in the exercise.
Withing fifteen minutes, I was already at the Mystic Falls Grill, one of the popular hangouts for Mystic Fall students. I walked up to the front and opened the door, my face instantly warmed by the welcoming heat of the Grill. Stuffing my gloves in my bag, I walked up to an empty table near the pool table and sat down, pulling my coat off. Dana, a part time waitress and full time student at Mystic Falls walked right up to me. I knew her from the cheer-leading squad.
"Hey Elena!" She cheered at me. I waved back and responded with a "Hi Dana", attempting to look bright. " What can I get you?"
"I'll have, uh, small hot chocolate," I said. "Oh with peppermint."
"Alrighty, be back in a few," Dana said. Hot chocolate with peppermint was a winter specialty at the Grill. I smiled at her and she waltzed away towards the kitchen. Looking down at my book bag, I reached down and fished out my little green diary and a black pen. I'd fallen a little behind in my writing, ergo that it was as dull and dry. It needed more...emotion. Not just vampire stuff. But I guessed it wouldn't hurt to write about yesterday.
"Dear Diary," I started out. "Yesterday will be a day I never forget. Its hard not to. The pain and the memory of it is still present within my. Scars marked as evidence maul my face. It all started out with the day I read about that ripper in the paper. Stefan had promised the vampire wouldn't come near me. Boy, was he wrong. After breakfast with Jenna and some Ladies' night planning, I'd gone to the library to finish up some homework when I realized I was being followed. And its even more scary when I think about the fact that it followed me out of the library and-"
Suddenly, a pale hand slammed down across the pages of my diary. It was so large in size it nearly covered my diary entirely. I felt a tight scowl form on my face as I looked up into the very, very light blue eyes of my offender.
"Damon," The unwelcome in my greeting was made pointedly obvious, judging from his reaction.
"What is it with you people and your rude greetings," He said, shaking his head in mock-disappointed.
In a single, smooth motion, he swept up my diary in his hand. I watched as he began to read my entry, his eyes darting back and forth as he read each line. Figuring I wouldn't be able to pry it from his grip, I simply let him read what I'd written. I'd written nothing super personal, after all. But he managed to stretch the length of my permission by turning a page back and reading my very personally written entry.
In panic, I reached up and slapped his hand. In surprise, he dropped the diary into my waiting hand. I snatched it back and tucked it away from view. I looked up. Damon rubbed his offending hand.
"Ow," He whimpered, casting me a small glare. I smiled smugly and hoped that my punishment would be enough to make him leave. But instead, he pulled up a chair and sat down, scooting next to me as though I'd invited him to.
"Damon, what are you doing here?" I asked, making the annoyance in my voice obvious.
"What, is it a crime to come to a public place?" He retaliated. Before I could answer, Damon looked around the restaurant, as though searching for someone. "Speaking of public...where's Stefan? Figured he'd be here. With you."
I looked away, refusing to let Damon see through my sadness. Damon tilted his head curiously, studying me with those sparkling eyes.
"Is something wrong?" He asked. The sarcasm in his voice had toned down to a genuine worry. I shook my head, refusing to let the tears that had welled up fall. Damon reached out and grabbed a napkin, offering it to me. I guess having superior hearing like vampires did would have made him hear my "quiet" sniffing. I grabbed the napkin and dabbed at my eyes.
"Stefan broke up with me," I said, forcing away the constriction in my throat. Damon shook his head, smiling.
"Is that why you're upset? Because Stefan broke up with you?" He asked, good-naturedly. I turned around and stared at him, outraged.
"Why is this funny?" I demanded. For a moment, I thought maybe Damon was drunk. I stared at him. Nope. He had the same obnoxious expression on his face whenever he spoke sarcastically.
"I mean, if the ripper came after you, of course Stefan, being the hero he is, would want to keep you safe. Even if it meant ending your gag-worthy, fairy tale of a relationship," Damon said logically, lacking any and all sympathy for me. I simply stared at him. "Don't be stupid, Elena. Stefan is doing you a favor by breaking up with you. Trust me. Now stop moping and forget him. Find someone less...Stefan-like."
Angry suddenly raged through me. The one person I thought would side with me and tell me that "yes, Stefan didn't have to break up with me and that he was a jerk" was now telling me that it was for the better. Who the hell does Damon think he is to judge what is good for me. Why is he being so...insensitive? Is he happy Stefan dumped me?
"Insensitive jerk," I growled. And as a last, satisfying gesture, I reached up and slapped him, my hand cracking across his face. Damon stared at me in shock, the initial reaction I had wanted. He reached up, pressing a hand to his punished cheek. I stood up, bag in hand. Suddenly, Dana approached, carrying a cup of steaming, hot chocolate. I payed her and took my cup, leaving behind the Grill and that stupid jerk.
I shook my head as I stood outside, sipping my drink. Could Damon be right? Am I being...stupid for acting like a heartbroken brat? It's not my fault that I feel sad and maybe a little betrayed at Stefan. It is, after all, a normal response when someone gets dumped. And why would Damon care? He lost the ability to care...at all. What right does he have to tell me who to forget and who to date.
I finished my drink, wrenching the paper cup in my hand. I walked up to a trash can and tossed it away. Now that I couldn't go to back to the Grill and finish up writing (thanks to Damon), I had to find some other place to go to. I looked around. A walk near the woods-nope, I would have to be crazy. I guess I could go to the library, write there in peace. I rest my case.
Tightening the grip on my bag, I made my way to the library, the chilled air brushing through my hair, letting it fly past its cold fingers. I arrived to the library and found an empty table on the first floor. I peeled off my coat and sat down. Fishing out my diary, I placed it on the table and began to write away.
And just like that, my anger was gone.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Hours later, I was making my way back home. All the anger and resentment I felt for Damon and his righteous logic was gone, thankfully. I waltzed up to my front porch and fumbled for the key to my door. My legs were tired from all the walking and my hand ached from all the immense writing. All I wanted was to go back upstairs and take a nice, hot bath.
I opened the door and waltzed clumsily inside. The strong aroma of spices suddenly overwhelmed me. I could hear something sizzling on my stove. Jenna's cooking dinner.
"Jenna, I'm home!" I said, pulling off my boots. No answer. "Jenna?"
I peeked around the corner and found Damon in my kitchen. DAMON! One of Jenna's white aprons was tied around his black shirt. He held a sizzling pan in one hand over the stove and a wooden spoon in the other. Laid out on the counter in front of him were containers and cans of spices, boxes of noodles and some meat on an aluminum pan. Standing tall, towering over the rest of the "ingredients" were two glasses of champagne.
"Damon! What are you-How did you-Why?" I stuttered, trying to separate the millions of questions in my head. Damon turned around and grinned at me, the wooden spoon held tightly in his pale grip.
"Ah, Princess. You're finally home," He said cheerfully. I didn't even bother to try and get him to stop calling me that.
"What are you doing in my house? Get out!" I demanded, pointing to the door. Damon ignored my demand.
"Well, I wanted to apologize for being an "insensitive jerk" and I thought what better way than to make dinner," He said logically. I shook my head.
"What about Jenna. Where is she?" I asked, looking around. The house was so quiet, except for Damon, who was now humming to himself.
"She went on a date with Alaric," He replied. I opened my mouth to respond but he cut me off. "I didn't compel her this time, I swear."
I rolled my eyes, not bothering. No matter what I did, I knew I wouldn't be able to get rid of Damon.
"So, if this missus would like, would you care to join me for dinner?" Damon asked, raising his eye brow at me. I felt my face turned red. It seemed as though this was what Damon wanted, as he smirked at me. To make me blush like a freak in front of him. This is the person who Damon was: a guy who liked to use and seduce women. He's done it before. I refused to fall under his "spell" or whatever it was that made him so...tempting. Not that he was.
"Okay, fine," I said, giving in. It was better to give Damon what he wanted now and know that he would leave in peace later. He smiled victoriously.
"Good, now go get changed."
"What? What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?" I asked, looking down at my casual, but comfortable outfit.
"This is dinner. You are suppose to look nice," He insisted, pointing at me with his wooden spoon. "By the time you get back, I'll be done cooking, I think."
I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to argue. I grabbed my bag and walked up to my room, my feet trudging heavily against the stairs. Every floor-pounding step would be a sign to Damon for ruining my relaxing afternoon. But I appreciated the fact that he had enough consideration to cook dinner for me. It was...nice. I got to my room, but happened to run into Jeremy on the way.
"Hey what are you doing up here?" I asked. One of Jeremy's normal Sunday routines was spending the afternoon playing video games and eating junk food.
"Oh, Damon told me to stay up in my room for some reason," Jeremy shrugged. "What is he doing here anyways?"
"He's cook-"
"Come on, Elena! Get a move on!" Damon called from downstairs. I forgot that he could hear me, being a vampire and all. I gave Jeremy a tell-you-later look. He nodded and slipped back into his room. I walked back to my room and dropped my bag on the bed.
What to wear, what to wear? I sat down and looked around, trying to picture myself in something. I figured I should put in the effort of looking nice for him. After all, he is cooking dinner for us. That alone deserves something nice. I got up and walked to my closet, trying to search for a nice top, the jeans were fine. I reached into my closet and pulled out a sequined, blue top. I guess it looked nice with the jeans. I pulled it on and felt satisfied. It looks fine. I slipped my feet into some black flats, combed my hair and reapply the small amount of makeup I had on.
Within minutes, I was ready. I waited a bit longer, figuring I should give Damon time to finish his cooking. Ten minutes passed and I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerve. I walked downstairs and found Damon pulling his "master piece" out of the oven. He set it down on the counter. Just at that moment, I had reached the end of the stairwell and was making my way into the kitchen. Damon looked up at me, the apron tossed on a chair.
"Now, that's more like it," He complimented. I smiled, feeling my cheeks heat up against my will. I cursed myself for acting so...shy around him. Its Damon, right?
"What did you cook?" I asked, peering into the pan. Staring back at me was a delicious pan of lasagna. "Wow, lasagna. I didn't know you knew how to cook."
"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Elena," Damon said, cutting me a piece. "I learned how to by compelling a chef in Italy to teach me."
"You've gone to Italy?" I asked, mind-blown. Damon nodded. He took a sip of champagne. Damon set his glass down and nudged the other one to me. "Oh, this is for me? I don't drink."
"Oh, what's there to loose. You're gonna turn eighteen soon. Might as well. A little sip never hurt anyone," Damon said. He picked up the glass and held it to me. I could smell the champagne. "Come on. You know you want too," Damon cooed.
"Alright," I said, smiling. He's right. There wasn't anything to loose. I would turn eighteen eventually. Smiling smugly, I took the wine glass from Damon and tilting it to my lips, sipped the drink (not all of it, though). The small amount I swallowed burned my throat. My eyes watered the slightest bit. I looked back at Damon, who's eyes widened.
"Wow, never pegged you for a boozer," Damon said, impressed. I coughed, smiling.
"What type of girl do you peg me for?" I asked, tilting my head to right. Damon shrugged and began to eat his lasagna. I abandoned my champagne and downed mine, remembered the breakfast I never had. Jeremy suddenly came downstairs. He swooped towards us, his nose hanging over the pasta.
"Lasagna? Damon, you never said you were cooking," Jeremy reached out and shoveled an enormous amount onto a plate. Without hesitation, he ran back to his room, the pasta disappearing bit by bit.
"So, tell me about your visiting Italy," I said, pushing away my empty plate and picking up my champagne. Damon suddenly reached up, wrapping his fingers around my hand on the glass. I looked at him and he at me. Staring at each other, I got a good look at his eyes. They were very pretty shade of blue. Sometimes, I had trouble deciding whether they were blue or silver or white or combined. All I knew is that they were very pretty. I could stare at them for hours. My cheeks began to heat up again beneath my ugly scars, concealed by makeup. Damon swallowed and lowered his hand, still wrapped around mine, wrapped around the wine glass.
"You shouldn't drink too much the first time. You might get tipsy," He cautioned. I took another swig, finishing the glass.
"Oh, nonsense," I said, smiling reassuringly at me. After all, who was Damon to care whether I got "tipsy" or not. I got up and suddenly felt myself stumble. Damon sped out of his chair and rushed to catch me. I looked up at him. Damon smirked at me, giving me an I-told-ya-so look. I smiled back and straightened up. I took me a moment to realize that Damon still had his strong arms around me. I bit my lip.
"Damon, do you really think Stefan was right to break up with me?" I asked, looking up at him. His face was so close to mine, I swear that one false move and we would be...kissing. The thought scared me. Damon sighed, holding me closer to him.
"I think that he was right; he really loves you. He would do anything to protect you. Anything," Damon whispered sadly. I felt chills run down my spine. For a moment, there was silence. I wriggled out of Damon's grasp and tucked my hair behind my ear.
"Well, I guess we should clean up," I said, motioning to the dirty dishes. Damon gazed at me, but cleared his throat and nodded. I set the plates in the dishes and put away the lasagna. I walked over to the counter and began washing dishes. Damon stood next to me and began drying the dishes.
We finished cleaning the kitchen (awkwardly, mind you). I walked Damon to the door.
"Thanks, Damon...for cooking dinner. It was...nice," I said, considering I'd been previously upset with him. Damon smiled.
"So, does this mean I'm...forgiven?" Damon asked. He widened his eyes into large, puppy-like orbs. I smiled back.
"Yeah. You're forgiven," I said, patting his shoulder. Damon opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. "What?"
"Nothing. I had...fun. Thanks," And with that, Damon left out the front door, letting it slam shut behind him. I crossed my arms over my chest and walked upstairs. I walked to the bathroom, took a nice, hot shower and changed out of my dinner outfit. I fell backwards on my bed, sighing heavily. My hair, still wet from the shower, was wrapped in a towel.
I never actually thought that tonight would be...fun. Any encounters with Damon usual ended in frustration of trying to combat his fluidity in sarcasm. I enjoyed spending time with him; it helped heal my broken heart. Why, hanging out with him helped me forget what his brother did to me. I felt comfortable. And I'd never thought I say this but...
I couldn't wait to see him again soon.
There you have it, ladies and unicorns! Chapter three. A lot of writing, so please, please please review! I will upload four soon. Thank you!
P.S. Dont forget to review!
