Chapter 7

(Just one or two more chapters, I think. I have a few enticing scenes left before I can finish with an elegant dismount. Huh – I really thought this thing would be a one-shot. Thanks to all who have encouraged me with favoriting, following, and reviews, and a special thanks to CreepingMuse, whose detailed reviews keep me pointed in the right direction.)

"I'm losing her," Stefan said, wandering aimlessly in front of the fire.

Damon pointed upstairs, eyes wide in warning.

"I know she can hear me," Stefan answered.

Damon sat on the couch with a dismissive shrug. "Okay, so she's… changing. Kind of to be expected."

"She's slipping away from me, Damon." Why was his younger brother so upset? Elena was fine, essentially. She was proving remarkably adaptive. Why persist in the doom and gloom? As far as Damon was concerned, things were looking up.

"So go talk to her. Or just keep talking about her down here and she'll show up eventually and argue with you."

Stefan stood with a deep sigh. "No, I have to get out of here. I'm going to check on Jeremy, let him know Elena's doing better." He walked to the door slowly, like he wanted someone to stop him. Damon smiled at the back of his head but didn't say a thing. Let him figure this out on his own, he thought. Stefan hesitated in the doorway, but then closed the door behind him without turning back.

The house was dead silent.

Once it was clear that Elena wasn't coming down, Damon went upstairs and took a shower, stretching extra sexily under the water, hoping she'd be standing in the doorway when he opened his eyes. No luck. He put on a new pair of jeans and waited.

All at once, Damon heard the front door opening, skin sizzling, and Elena growling, "dammit!" The door slammed closed, hard. Damon was downstairs in a flash.

"Are you okay?" His fingers grazed her cheek, where the skin was already mostly healed.

"I just – my phone died." Her face contorted in a rueful smile. "Huh. You know how when someone dies you find yourself talking about stuff dying all the time? Turns out that even happens when it's you who's died. Great." Of course this girl, who had lost so many people, would notice that. "My charger is still in your car. But I forgot that -"

"—that the sun hates you? Not for long. We'll call Bonnie. She'll spell you a nice gaudy ring of your very own to be stuck with for eternity." He wiggled his ring finger at her.

Elena's brow furrowed with her refusal. "We can't, not yet. If I bit her, I just – I couldn't bear it if something happened, please," she begged.

"Okay," he said, smoothing his hands over her shoulders. "Then we'll practice tonight, at the Grill. But for now, the sun – "

"I won't forget." Her hand ghosted over her cheek, and Damon's followed, resting there as he tilted her face up to look into her eyes. "Really, how are you? Tell me."

She was quiet for a long moment. "I met you first."

Damon hazarded a sly smile. "Indeed you did." He squinted at her, poised to accept either direction the conversation went, a slap or a kiss.

"You never said a thing. You could have. You probably should have." Elena glanced at his eyes but let hers rest on his lips. "How did you know? I wanted – needed – a love that consumed me. I could feel that it was possible. Matt was predictable and safe. And then with Stefan, it felt so right, but it was the same. Safe. And after my parents' accident, I guess that's exactly what I needed."

Damon wasn't sure himself how he had recognized, that evening on the road, what would ignite Elena. But he had seen her fierce heart as clearly as if he had been staring into a mirror. "And now?"

"Now? Now I see Stefan for what he is, not what I wanted him to be. And I can finally see you for what you are, Damon. Noble and heroic."

He shook his head, finding himself almost reflexively ready to defend Stefan. It felt utterly unfamiliar to be compared to Stefan and come out on top.

Her eyes sparkled with admiration. "Listen, you told me you loved me but that Stefan deserved me. And maybe he did. But so do you."

Any thought of Stefan was eclipsed as he watched the moment he had hoped for come rushing toward him.

"I don't want to be safe anymore, Damon." Elena crushed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around him. He welcomed her embrace, savoring the length of her body pressed against his. Almost immediately she pulled away, gasping at the sensation of her veins snaking down her cheeks, her fangs puncturing her gums and invading their kiss. "Sorry," she whispered.

Damon closed the space she had created and touched the point of one of her fangs with his tongue. She understood, smiling as she melted into his kiss. Blood pounded behind his eyes as what he had so carefully held back when she was human he finally let go. He was rewarded with Elena's exploring tongue scraping along his fangs in response. His breath hitched.

She found his hand behind her back and intertwined their fingers. "Upstairs," she breathed against his lips. He let himself be led at a tantalizingly slow human pace.

Behind his bedroom door, he removed her clothing layer by layer, and it was as if he was peeling away her old self. She stood taller, no hint of fear or insecurity. Her hands were hungry for his skin, but patient. He nipped and licked along her collarbone, still delicious but now without that hint of blood singing to him from beneath the surface, while he dragged her bra slowly over her arms, dropping it at their feet. She knelt before him and slowly removed his jeans, letting her fingernails scratch along his legs. A moan escaped him as she slid back up his body, both of them entirely bare.

The armchair was closest. He smirked as she pushed him gently into it, then straddled his lap. With an unguarded sigh she sank down onto him, arching her back as he pressed himself deeper into her hips. With his tongue, he traced up her center line to her neck, delighting in what Elena was just now realizing: for a vampire, every inch of skin could be as sensitive as a breast. She hummed and ground herself against him in a languid circle.

In a way, it was her first time.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be carried away by slow gripping, scratching, pressing, pulling, taste, need, and delicious strain. The texture of her straight, silky hair caught between their lips. The hardness and softness of her skin. The flex of her back. Her fingers grasping at his hair. Every time they picked up a rhythm she frustrated it.

But it had been nearly two hours since they'd been left alone, and they couldn't expect this window of opportunity to remain open indefinitely. "Stefan could get home soon," he attempted, his voice congested with need.

"Serves him right," she mumbled. Her spine tightened like a whip as she flicked her hips into his.

He breathed a light, surprised laugh against her neck. "Come with me."

Her head fell back with a groan, revealing her long, luscious neck. The scars where he had once bit her in a delusional haze had healed, as had every other trace of the ravages being the doppelganger had taken on her fragile human form. Damon could sense that one bite would take her over the edge. As his fangs pressed into the delicate skin at the base of her neck, she unwound one of his arms from her waist, puncturing the translucent bend of his elbow. The orgasm hit them like heavy ocean waves, powerful and insistent, then receding.

Not long afterward, Stefan's car rumbled into the garage. From still inside the car, Stefan quietly spoke. "I'm home." It wasn't something he and Damon had always done, but when they had company, they tried to be courteous, at least. It felt oddly out of place in this situation, cheap almost. Mostly dressed now, Elena smiled at the gesture as she slipped her hair into a ponytail. But Damon's hand slipped from the bedroom door at the sound of Stefan's voice. He had the strongest feeling, a sort of premonition, that he wouldn't hear Stefan say that again for a very long time.