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Chapter 11:

Damon's POV:

Two days had gone since Elena had found out our little secret, and they'd been hell on earth. I kept on a cold facade towards her, trying to hide the fact that I was worried about her. She'd gotten used to getting up at 9am and actually eating breakfast, but that didn't mean she'd started talking to me. She was getting used to living like this, but I had the feeling she still hated me. At least she wasn't trying to run anymore. She'd tried again the same night as I'd locked her up the first time, which had only earned her another night in the basement. This time, I stayed down there, out of her hearing range, keeping an eye on her during the night.

She'd gotten the message after that, though. She was staying the night in her bedroom now, not trying to run away and actually behaving. When the time came, I'd might even be able to send her back to school.

I was on my way to Elena's room at that moment, to wake her up. It was 9am as usual, and I knew she would take a shower and then come down to eat. I was, however, unpleasantly surprised when I heard her giggle downstairs. Why the hell would she be giggling? And why would she be downstairs already?

She'd never been up earlier than 9am, and she hadn't said much since I'd made sure she was in bed the night before. I'd never even heard her laugh before.
Just because she'd accepted the fact that she was now living with a bunch of vampires, didn't mean she liked it. She spent most of her time locked away in her room, writing in that journal of hers. I'd thought about reading it through more than once, just to find out what exactly was going through her stubborn mind, but she never let go of it. Even when she'd been down in the basement, I'd let her have it.

She'd been screaming at me for 15 minutes, before I gave up and threw the journal and a pen into the cell. She'd looked at me for a second, before she'd taken the journal, and instantly begun writing in it. That little book seemed to calm her down when nothing else could, so I'd let her bring it everywhere, 'cause she obviously seemed to need it. And who was I to deny anything she wanted?

I hated the power she had over me, but I had absolutely no choice when it came to her. She was my Singer, and even when I wanted to hate her and just kill her off, I couldn't. She was special, whether I liked it or not.

But I had no idea why she was giggling, why she was downstairs, and why her heart had sped up, just a tiny bit.

Yes, I'd actually grown that much used to the steady beat of her heartbeat in my own chest, that I could feel when it sped up, even when it was only a little bit.

It didn't take me long to track her giggle to the kitchen, but I froze in my steps at the scene before me. Elena was now full on laughing, her head tilted backwards, as she stood opposite my brother. They both had a cup of coffee in their hands, and his eyes were on 'kind mode', hiding away the true predator he was.

What the hell was she doing, laughing with him? And why the hell wasn't he upstairs entertaining Blondie, instead of flirting with my fucking Singer.

And more importantly, did he really think I'd let him do that?!

I cleared my throat, as both of them turned to look at me. Elena's smile instantly moved into a smirk, until she read the anger in my eyes. The smirk disappeared, and she looked down in the floor. Stefan just raised an eyebrow at me.

"Stefan, I think your girlfriend needs you," I said, making sure the word 'girlfriend' came out loud and clear. Elena's head instantly snapped up, her eyes narrowed as she looked at me.

"You do know she has a name, right?" Stefan said, smiling knowingly at me, and God if that didn't piss me off. Couldn't he see just how much I wanted him to to leave? He shouldn't be the one bonding with my Singer. I should.

It had been hard bonding with Elena, when she didn't want to speak to me. She didn't even want to look at me.

Surely she had to understand the reason for me to throw her in the basement for the night. I couldn't just have her run off, could I? If she could just relax and behave herself, none of that would've been necessary.

"Fine then, Caroline needs you. Do you mind?" I said, hating the fact that my brother liked to piss me off in every single way possible.

He damn well knew I wanted him out of the kitchen and away from Elena right away, and there he was, joking around. I shot him a pointed look, before he sat down his cup of coffee, and put his hands in the air.

"All right, I'm going," he said, walking out of the kitchen with a smug smile. I'd love to wipe that off his face by breaking his neck, but that'd probably startle Elena, and she didn't need to see anymore bodies in her lifetime. Seeing her family die would probably be enough.

"I was actually talking to him, you know," Elena said, emptying her cup and walking to the sink, starting to clean it.

"And you don't have to clean that by hand, you know," I said, walking to her and taking the cup from her hands. She jumped to the side as my t-shit covered chest touched her back, glaring at me.

"Just because I know you're a... You know, you don't have to do that speedy thing all the time!" she said, her voice accusing. I couldn't resists laughing at that one.

"I'm a vampire, Elena, I told you, it's not a bad word. Just say it. And I wasn't using my speed. I was walking at a completely normal human pace. You just didn't see me coming, and got surprised," I said, smirking at her, as I placed her cup in the dishwasher. Her face turned red, as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Whatever. Don't sneak up on me. It isn't fair," she said, turning around on her heel, and walking into the parlor. I couldn't help but chuckle at her, before I followed. Using my vampire speed this time, I stood right behind her, leaning over so that my mouth was right by her ear.

"Like this?" I asked, smirking as she screamed and jumped away. Next her hand flew through the air, and I grabbed her wrist right before her palm hit my cheek. The smirk faded from my lips, and I let my eyes turn cold.

"Don't even do that again. I could snap your wrist like a chip, you know that, right?" I said. Her hand relaxed in my grip, as I stared her down. She didn't back down, though. She just kept looking at me with those defiant eyes, obviously still mad.

"Then stop giving me a reason to want to smack you," she said, ripping her wrist from my grip and walking away. I noticed her rubbing them slightly, as I remembered the bruises from the chains in the basement.
I raised an eyebrow at her, unable to not notice just how hot that was. She wasn't afraid of me, even though I'd made it more than clear that I could kill her in a second.

"I'm gonna go make breakfast, so come join me in twenty minutes time," I called, returning to the kitchen, where I started cooking breakfast.

I had yet to grow tired of cooking all the time. When it'd just been myself, I'd never wasted my time eating something as silly as human food, but now I had Elena to take care of. And as any other human being, she needed food to survive. I'd spent a lot of years in my past learning how to cook properly, 'cause which Italian man didn't know how to cook.

Now I had a chance to put my skills to good use, and keep Elena alive. At least one good thing had come out of my poor choice of saving a fucking human girl.

"Why do you even bother cooking?"

I didn't even turn my head, as I heard her voice from the door. I could see her leaning up against the door frame out of the corner of my eye.

"I told you, Elena, I don't want you dead. If I did, you would've been by now," I said, keeping my voice cool, as I cracked the eggs onto the pan. I felt her move closer and sit on the counter a couple of feet from where I was standing.

"Your ass better be clean, if you're sitting on the table I'm making food on," I said, raising an eyebrow at her. She crossed one leg over the other and leaned back, resting her back against the wall.

"Oh, my ass is clean all right," she said, raising an eyebrow right back at me. I chuckled at her and shook my head, as I started making the omelet I knew she loved. It hadn't taken a lot of time to find out just what Elena liked eating and what she didn't. I had yet to find her favorite dish for dinner, but I knew that she loved an omelet with a glass of orange juice in the morning, and a light salad and a glass of water for lunch, even though I tried making her eat more than that. I had no idea just how much it was recommended for teenage girls to eat, but I knew she needed at least three meals a day, and I was going to make sure she got that.

"It better be. I don't want you getting sick," I said, still not looking up at her and focusing on my cooking. She just let out a laugh, and kept looking at me, as I cooked her breakfast. Only when I placed the omelet on a plate with some bacon, I allowed myself to look properly at her.

She was wearing a pair of sweats that looked too big on her, and a red camisole, which showed off her body in a great way. No man could deny she looked great, and if I'd been younger, I wouldn't have hesitated to flirt with her – but I wasn't. My body alone was supposed to be 24 years old, and I'd learn to control myself in my 290 years. No way a little teenage girl was going to make me lose control.

"A mythical creature of the night is cooking me breakfast... How weird is that?" she mumbled, as I handed her the plate and started looking for the orange juice.

"Vampire, Elena," I said, rolling my eyes. How could she keep on refusing to use that word? It wasn't like it was bad or anything.

"I like mythical creature of the night a lot better," she said, jumping down from the table, and reaching for a glass. I helped her reach it, and poured orange juice into the glass.

"I don't care. I'm a vampire, Elena, and you better get used to it. It isn't changing," I said, handing her the glass. She cocked her head and looked at me. Slowly, she sipped from it, her eyes never leaving my face.

"You're frowning. What's on your mind?" I asked, wondering what had made her look like that.

"You said you're not going to change... So you don't age?" she asked, looking at me over the top of her glass. I raised an eyebrow at her, knowing instantly where this was going. Why did humans insist on knowing each other's exact age? I'd never seen why it was that important.

"Physically, no. My body doesn't age," I said, starting to wash off the pan. I knew exactly what was going to come out of her mouth in 3, 2...

"So, how old are you?"

Humans had always been so predictable. Even when age meant absolutely nothing, they still wanted to know. I wasn't going to physically age, so my age didn't really matter, but still, she insisted on knowing.

"I was born in 1720. You do the math. Come on, let's get you in the parlor. You need your breakfast," I said, trying to brush it off as not important. I heard her fingers leave the glass and sped to catch it before it hit the floor.

"Do you mind being a little bit more careful, Elena? I don't particularly feel like cleaning up after you," I said, handing her the glass of orange juice. She was still just standing there with her mouth slightly agape, staring at me.

"You're 290 years old?" she whispered, her voice unsteady. I raised one eyebrow, 'cause that certainly didn't seem like her. Where was the fire that had shown itself during the past few days?

"Yes, Elena, I am. Your breakfast is getting cold," I said, grabbing the plate from her hands and walking to the parlor. I put her breakfast down on the coffee table, knowing she loved to eat her food in front of the fire. Why, I had no idea, but who was I to complain? As long as she ate her food.

"You could be my grand-grand-grandfather," she said, as she followed me.

"I'm not," I said, sitting down in the couch. Normally I'd fetch some blood, because fucking surprise, I have a habit of staring into the fire as well.

"How can you know? It's almost 300 years since you were born. You could be my grandad," she said, laughing as she sat down. I shot her a pointed look.

"Vampires can't procreate, Elena. I didn't have any kids before I turned," I said, avoiding to go back to 1744 in my mind. It'd been a long time since I'd accepted what had happened back then, but that didn't mean I liked going back.

"Turn? You were a human once?" Her eyes went wide as she sat down next to me. I raised one eyebrow. What the hell was going through her head? Of course I'd been a human.

"Of course. I was born human," I said, not wanting to tell her too much.

"What happened?" she asked, not even looking at her food.

"Eat, Elena. I'll see you later," I said, getting up from the couch and grabbing my jacket from the hanger by the door. Before she could protest against my leaving, I shut the door behind me and decided to go for a walk in the woods.

Okay, so running away might not be the best way to handle that kind of problem, but I couldn't deal with her trying to make me tell her exactly what had happened back then. The story of my turning was way too complicated to start explaining, and I wasn't ready to tell her about the whole Singer aspect yet. How would she react to the fact that she was, in reality, just as supernatural as I was? Hell, how was she going to handle that she was supposed to choose to either die or live forever when she was in the mere age of 24?

Even I hadn't been mature enough to decide that for myself when I was 24. I didn't want to force the choice upon her, but I didn't exactly have another way out.

I'd tell her about who she really was, when she was older. Maybe then she'd be able to handle that information better than she was right now. She was only 16 years old, and she'd just lost all of her family. No way she was ready for that kind of information right now.

I wouldn't have told her about our vampirism, but she'd obviously found out her own way. Great, a new truck load of information poured down over her. It surprised me she hadn't broken down yet. I'd expected as much of her, but she seemed to be holding on strong.

And God, did I like that fire of hers. Sometimes it really didn't surprise me she was my singer. She was obviously just as stubborn as me, and I could already see the likeness in our fearlessness. Though she seemed to be a bit more stupid. Who in their right mind would start being flippant towards a freaking vampire?

Nonetheless, I liked her. When she wasn't being impossible as hell, that is.

When I returned to the boarding house, I was surprised to see her sit in the parlor with a book, curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea in front of her. I stood still in the door frame, enjoying the view. She'd put on a sweatshirt that looked way too big on her, and her legs were curled up under her, in a way that shouldn't be possible for humans.

Thank God for cheerleading.

I looked at her for a couple of minutes, before I stepped closer. As soon as I took a step, her head snapped up, she closed the book and I instantly recognized the sweatshirt she was wearing. It was the blue college sweatshirt I'd been stupid enough to buy when I took my degree in business at NYU. How on earth had Elena gotten her hands on that?

She seemed to notice my looking at her dressing, because she looked down and then her whole face turned red.

"I was cold and Stefan told me I could wear this... He said you wouldn't mind," she said, standing up and putting the book down on the coffee table. I quickly recognized that one as well. She was reading "Call of the Wild", a book that'd been my favorite ever since it'd gotten out. It wasn't my copy of it, though. The one on the coffee table had to be hers, because all of mine were old. This one had definitely been read lots of times, but it wasn't anywhere near the age of mine.

"It's fine. I don't mind," I said, trying to figure out why Stefan would lend her my clothes instead of his own. And didn't she have a decent sweatshirt of her own?

Honestly, I couldn't bring myself to care. I liked the way she was drowning in my sweatshirt, that was way too large on her small frame.

"I hope you're warm now," I said, looking her up and down one last time, before walking towards my own room, needing the bourbon hidden away in my closet right now. I didn't hear her answer, but I did feel her heart-rate speed up, and hear her sit down on the couch again, probably getting comfortable with her book again. Even though it was obvious it wasn't the first time she'd read it, I'd let her dive into the amazing story.

I didn't see her again before late evening. I'd made her lunch, but hadn't given it to her. I just expected her to go out and fetch it herself.

When I came downstairs, she was on the couch again, buried in "Call of the Wild". I chuckled lightly at her, before getting myself a glass of bourbon and sitting down next to her, enjoying the silence. She lowered the book and looked at me.

"Did you want to say anything?" she asked, her eyes curious. I raised an eyebrow and grabbed the book. Oh, she was at a good passage.
"But especially he loved to run in the dim twilight of the summer midnights, listening to the subdued and sleepy murmurs of the forest, reading signs and sounds as a man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterious something that called – called, waking or sleeping, at all times, for him to call..."

She leaned back again as I started reading to her, letting myself slip into the universe Jack London had created. I could feel her eyes locked on me, as I read out loud, hoping she liked it. She hugged herself, getting comfortable on the couch, still not taking her eyes of me.

I know, I'm a sap for reading out loud to her. I mean, who the fuck does that anymore, to someone older than three?

But she's been reading all day, and I understood where she was coming from. She didn't want to put the book down, but her eyes had to be tired. Stuff like that happened to humans. So why shouldn't I read out loud to her? She actually had a taste in books. If she'd been sitting with Twilight, I'd never done this.

No, it was only because I liked the book myself. Maybe I should show her the first edition I owned, signed by Jack London himself... Surely she would be impressed.

That's when I realized I hadn't even shown her the library. She seemed to like reading and writing, so why hadn't I shown her that room? She would love it.

Reaching the end of a chapter, I looked up from the book, only to find her breath evened out, her eyes closed and her head resting on the back of the sofa.

She looked so peaceful like that. Her arms were still hugged around her small body, almost drowning in my sweatshirt, and her legs were curled up under her. She looked so small and fragile as she was sitting there, fast asleep.

I downed the rest of my bourbon and put the bookmark in the book. I would have to show her the library tomorrow when she woke up. Right now I needed to get her to bed. She would be sore if she stayed the night on the couch.

I put the book on the coffee table, standing up without waking her up. Uncurling her legs, I lifted her, bridal style, and felt her head automatically roll onto my chest. One hand grabbed my shirt, as she sighed and snuggled into my chest.

I stood as rooted to the ground for a moment, staring at the girl in my arms. This was the closest we'd been, since I'd rescued her out from the sinking car. Something she didn't remember, of course. Actually, she had no idea how she'd gotten out of the car before her parents and her brother. That was a story I was going to tell her sometime when she'd gotten older and more used to being around vampires.

Right now, I was busy with being surprised. I'd talked to her this morning, but she still didn't seem comfortable with me. Now she was snuggling into my chest, using it as a pillow.

I guess you can't hold people accused to what they're doing in their sleep.

Tightening my grip on her small body, I started climbing the stairs, walking towards her room. She only snuggled closer to me the whole way, her entire body touching mine as I reached her bedroom. I opened the door without waking her, and carefully out her down on the bed. Her small fist didn't want to let go of my shirt, though. I gently grabbed her hand, uncurling her fingers, and kissing her knuckles, before placing her hand on the comforter. I made sure she was comfortable, before I leaned back and looked at her. She hugged the comforter to her chest, snuggling into the pillow, her hair spread all over the white sheets.

She looked like a dream.

I placed a kiss on her forehead, before whispering goodnight and leaving her room, closing the door silently behind me.

"Damon isn't so bad, you know."

I frowned, recognizing Caroline's voice, as I walked down the hall. I'd usually assume she was talking to Stefan, but the voice had come from my Singer's bedroom.

"Isn't that bad? Have you met the guy!?" I stiffened, as I heard Elena's response, and stopped walking. Caroline was defending me to Elena... This could be interesting.
"At some point, you'll understand what I mean, Elena. The two of you have a connection," Caroline said assertively.

I stilled at her words.

She couldn't reveal the Singer bond to Elena. I didn't want her to know yet, and I certainly didn't want her to be told by Caroline.

"What in the hell would make you think that!?" Elena demanded, and I could easily picture her defensive expression, "No, it would be impossible for me to have a connection of any kind with Damon. He's a sick, mythical creature...," she paused, "No offense."

Leave it to her to worry about offending a vampire.

I heard her move from the chair she'd probably been sitting in. Her heart sped up slightly, as I leaned against the wall and slid down, listening to their conversation.

"You may think that now," Caroline reasoned, "Hell, I didn't think that there was anything between me and Stefan when I first met him. And I definitely had a hard time accepting him when he told me the truth about what he was. But we did have something, and after a while, I couldn't deny it anymore. I think you'll realize you have the same thing with Damon."

Caroline said this with so much certainty, that I had to curl my hands into a fist to keep from going in there and strangling her. She was so close to exposing everything to Elena.

A heavy sigh echoed out, "There's a difference there, though. Stefan is actually a nice guy, the two of you together, it makes sense. But Damon...he's nothing but sharp teeth and a bad attitude. The only connection I want to have with him is when I deliver a solid kick to his ass!"

Despite the sting of her words, I smiled. God, she was a little spitfire. Caroline must have felt the same amusement, because her chuckle filled the air.

"Oh trust me honey, we all understand just how... Testing Damon can be. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. I'm just saying that, once you get to know him, you might be surprised. He's a pain in the ass, but... He's a good man. And I think having you around may remind him of that."

Elena's voice was softer this time, when she answered, "I'm sure you think that, Caroline, and you know, maybe he is. But that doesn't matter. Because whether he's a good person or a bad one doesn't change the fact that he's basically holding me hostage here. And even if he wasn't, it's not like I have anywhere else to go. And that's what infuriates me more than anything. My entire family is dead, in a crash that, somehow, only I survived. I just found out that vampires are a real fucking thing, and then he just expects me to take it in stride and be okay with all of this. Like I'm not allowed to freak out, or be afraid, or even just punch something. No, I get locked down in the freaking cellar for having a perfectly normal human reaction. So how am I supposed to believe he's a good person? I...I just can't deal with it, Caroline. I am barely getting through each day, so trying to rationalize being kidnapped by a vampire because of some connection between us, is just a little outside of my capability right now."

I lost whatever Caroline said next, as my own thoughts consumed me. Was that really Elena's view of me? Maybe I had been a little insensitive, sure, but that was life.
And I'd tried making up for it, tried giving her more freedom... Hell, it's not like I have her chained to the bed, living on bread and water.

She was the one being difficult.

I sighed. Or maybe I'm just an asshole.

Her whole family died merely days ago, and I'm just a further addition to her misery. This is why Stefan is better at all the Singer shit. This is why this stuff isn't supposed to happen to me.

I ran a hand down my face, feeling my age for the first time. What in the hell was I doing? Elena clearly hated it here and it's not like I couldn't compel her a family to stay with... But then again, now that she knew about us, that was probably out of the question.

As if I could let her go anyway. Human life passed so quickly, and Elena's is a grenade. A time bomb, and the clock is ticking.

How the fuck was I supposed to explain to her that she'd have to become the sick, mythical creature that she so despised? And what if she chose not to turn? How was I going to watch her die?!

I wasn't. I can't.

But I also couldn't imagine her choosing this life either.

Not unless the Singer bond forced her into it. It had with Caroline. Or more like, it had forced her to Stefan, and she'd chosen vampirism by default.

But Elena actually loving me... It seemed a fate worse than death.

Thank you SO much for reading - I hope you'll take the time to send me a review. See you next time! (which will be sooner than two years, I promise)