So hopefully this chapter will be a little more interesting. Peace and love:)

Stay sassy and classy. ;)

P.s. shout out to my first reviewer, Forever2Never !

…..

I fixed my hippie-style headband and smoothed out my dark blue dress. It was ten to seven; I was all ready to go.

My level of excitement for this night was through the roof. There was something…alluring…about Damon Salvatore. I had to know more about him.

And, I so wanted to dance with him tonight.

I bounced down the stairs excitedly. Aunt Jenna noticed my unusual attitude and smiled.

"Got a hot date?" She guessed.

I grabbed an apple out of the kitchen and sat down at one of the benches surrounding the island. Jenna leaned with her elbows on the tabletop, sipping a back coffee.

"Yes and no," I corrected.

She frowned. "Can you really have one without the other and still be so excited about it?"

I laughed—a real, hearty laugh. "Hot? Yes. Date? Not exactly."

"Something tells me by the end of the night, it will count as a date."

I grinned. There was a knock at the door, and Aunt Jenna gave me a look.

I ran to the door, and smoothed my outfit before swinging it open. "Hi." I offered Damon a bright smile.

He was dressed casually. "Sorry about this," He waved down at his leather jacket-dark-jeans outfit.

"No, that's fine. You're not into the whole dress-up thing."

"Yeah, I'm more into the dress-down thing."

That made me laugh. "Perv," I accused.

"Thanks." He held something out for me. It fit in the palm of his hand, and he had his fist closed around it, so I couldn't tell what it was.

I frowned at it. "What's that?"

"It's…a ring. Family ere loom thing; been trying to get rid of it for years. It's from the seventies, so I figured it would match your costume," he said it apologetically.

The gesture took me off guard. "Wow," I breathed as he opened his hand. It was a simple ring; a heavy blue stone and a gold band. Very hippie, yet very pretty. "Are you sure you want to lend this to me?"

He shook his head. "No, I want to give it to you."

"No way," I objected, and tried to close his fingers back over his palm. "I can't take that from you. You're going to want it someday, to give to someone else."

He caught my hand and held it in his. "No, Elena, I want to give it to you." His eyes lost their fierceness, and widened, a little puppy-dog. "Please?"

I smiled a little at his adorable pout. "Thank you." He dropped my hand, and somehow, the ring was already on my finger. I admired it, and his ability to slip it on without my noticing.

"I like it," he commented, and held his arm out for me. I linked mine in his and we walked to his car. He even opened the door for me, and helped me in.

"I thought chivalry was dead?" I remarked.

He smirked and got in the other side. As he buckled his belt, he said, "I've never heard that."

"Really?" That surprised me. "Everyone says it."

"Huh."

"Guess you were raised right."

He raised his eyebrows. "That can't be; I raised myself, remember." That could have been a serious comment, but the way he said it made it light. Talking to him was easy.

We began driving smoothly. Again, I saw that he was a good driver. I liked watching him drive. His eyes were concentrated on the road, lips softly pouting. "Were you one of those rebel-with-a-cause kids?" I asked before I forgot where I was.

He laughed. "I was mostly…uncontrollable. I wasn't really rebelling against anything, though."

I titled my head to the side curiously. "What do you mean?"

He sighed quietly. "I…can't explain it right now." His hands tightened on the steering wheel just slightly. He had a ring on his middle finger, I noted.

"I've seen that ring before." I blurted.

He glanced at me. "What?"

"I—On Stefan. He wears the same ring."

"Oh. Oh, yeah." He twisted it on his finger. "Another family ere loom. Our ancestors were hoarders."

I smiled again, then pointed to the radio. "Do you mind if I turn it on?"

"Not at all." He made a sharp turn, and I, shocked, braced my hands against the door. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," I said, shaking my head. "Cars just freak me out a little, that's all." I reached for the radio, and put it on my favorite station. A good song was playing, so I turned it up and nodded a long. "Do you know this one?" I asked.

He shrugged. "A little."

I tried for small talk. "Do you have a favorite band?"

"Nah. There're too many great ones. I love rock, though."

"Mmm." I fiddled with my ring. "Thanks again for this, I..really do like it."

"I'm glad."

I sighed in defeat. There was something a lot more pressing than rock music on my mind. "Damon?"

"Yes?"

"Do you remember what you told me that night, on Wickery Bridge?"

His eyes tightened. "I…yes. I told you what you wanted."

"What do you want?"

His mouth twitched, fighting a smile. "You."

My heart jumped. "You do?"

"Mm. I want to reach across this car and touch you; I want to kiss you; I want you to be mine. I want you to be safe, and I want to show you all those things I told you that you were looking for. I want you to know that I can be all those things. I want you to be happy."

I'd never get used to how quickly he changed the mood-one minute it was all jokes and light comments, and then he was confessing his desire for me. "I am happy…right now." It was the truth. He made me happy.

I loved that.

We pulled into the parking lot of the school. He got out of the car and opened my door for me in a flash.

"You're fast," I noticed.

He winked.

Inside, the dance was throbbing with music and chatter. Bonnie and Caroline waved, and we said hi. Caroline's curls had been flipped a little more, and hair-sprayed to look a little bigger, in that seventies poof. Bonnie was dressed in a flowery shirtdress with a white belt around the hip.

"You guys look fantastic," I said brightly.

"So do you," Bonnie returned, and sent a shy smile towards Damon. "Hi."

He gave her a warm look. "Hey, Bonnie. Caroline."

Caroline was a little bolder, and she batted her eyelashes. "Hey, Damon."

"So…" Damon rocked back on his heels confidently. "Should I do the 'I'll-get-us-punch' thing?"

I grinned. "Sure, that sounds good."

He sauntered over to the punch table, looking pretty great as he did so.

Bonnie nudged me. "I know you're too busy staring at Damon's butt to notice, but Stefan Salvatore just walked in and he's totally watching you."

I frowned and looked for him over my shoulder. I instantly met those hazel eyes, and he waved, giving a shy smile. I waved back pleasantly, and gestured for him to come over.

He came to me like something was drawing him there, like he was the fish and I was reeling him in.

"You look beautiful," he said fervently.

"Thank you." I could tell he really meant it, and that made my heart bulge. He was sweet.

Damon came back and handed me a bright red drink. "Stefan." He sounded surprised to see his brother.

"Damon." Stefan stuck his hand out, and Damon shook it.

"It's been a while," Damon hinted.

"Is this the first time you've seen each other since you've been in Mystic Falls?" I asked incredulously.

Stefan shrugged as though it had been practiced. "We've haven't really gotten the chance to catch up yet." He addressed his brother. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Damon mirrored his expression. "Likewise."

A silent tension fell around us, like a balloon with too much air, ready to pop at the slightest touch. I cleared my throat. "Well, it was nice to see you Stefan."

His smile grew sad, and this time, my heart clenched. "Take care, Elena." It was an odd phrase, an underused phrase, and seemed as though it held a hidden significance of some sort. I made a mental note to write about it later.

"Thank you."

He walked away, a little too quickly, and I watched him. "Is he alright?" I wondered.

Damon shrugged, and his arms slid around me cautiously, testing my reaction. "I'm sure everything's fine." He spun me into his chest, so that if I were to tilt my head up just the slightest bit, our lips would be touching. "Would you like to dance, Elena?" There was that butterflies-in-stomach inducing pronunciation of my name again. My breath caught.

"I'd love to."

His hands slid down to my hips, and he led me to a less crowded corner. We swayed to the old, happy music, and I found myself laughing and getting lost in those blue eyes a lot. Damon was a good dancer—his movements were fluid, smooth. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and it was all very lighthearted and cheery— until the music slowed.

He drew me closer subtly, and we moved together more slowly. "So, Damon, will you tell me more about you now?"

His hands tightened on my waist in what seemed like suspicion. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything." I smiled a little. "Tell me about the place you last lived."

He pushed a strand of hair back from my face and spoke quietly. "Seattle. I lived in Seattle for awhile before here." His thumb swiped across my bottom lip delicately, and his hand caressed my cheek. "It's busy there. People are everywhere; there's life, and color, and noise, lots of noise. You would have liked it."His eyes were warm, intense.

"It sounds beautiful."

"It was," he agreed. "I like it better here, though."

I frowned. "How can that be? There's nothing special about Mystic Falls."

Humor sparked in his eyes, but he avoided my question. "There's a whole world out there, Elena, and you're just starving for it. I see it."

I took a deep breath. "How do you know these things?"

He closed his eyes briefly. "I'm smart."

"I mean it. How do you know so much about me?"

"I've been around the block a few times, Elena. I know the game pretty well."

I backed off a little. "What do you mean? Damon, how old are you?"

He cleared his throat a little. "I'm—twenty four."

My eyes widened, but I tried to at least keep my voice even. "You're not that much older than I am," I lied. "But you act like you know so much more—no, you do know so much more. How?"

He shrugged. "Experience."

My eyes narrowed in admiration.

"What?"

I blinked. "It's nothing."

"Were you enjoying looking at me? I'm gorgeous, I know."

I laughed and fell back into his arms. "You're cocky, you know."

"I know. I've come to accept the term 'sociopath' as a compliment."

I raised my eyebrows. "Sociopath? I don't know if I'd go that far."

"Well, you're not a bitter ex-girlfriend, are you?" He paused. "Yet."

I rolled my eyes. "What makes you so sure of yourself?"

"I'm myself." He winked and pulled our arms up, and spun me around, and then back into him. "To be honest, I was actually a little nervous tonight."

"Oh?" He'd hidden it well; tonight, Damon had been the most confident person in the room.

"Mm. You ask a lot of questions and I…"-he leaned into me and whispered in my ear, "I have a secret." He pulled back and pressed a finger to his lips.

I pressed my lips together. "You're not a serial killer, are you?"

"Not exactly."

I held in my gasp and stopped dancing. For a long time, we just stared each other down. Finally, I spoke. "You know what, everyone has secrets. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a whole book full of them hidden at my house. I would never hand those over to just anyone, so I don't expect you to come clean right now, or tomorrow, or even this week. Maybe I have horrible instincts, but I—I don't—I'm not scared of you." I stumbled through the words, knowing they were true but also well aware of how stupid that was. Mom had always told me 'never trust a man who can dance.' Still, "I trust you. Something about you makes me trust you. So, I'm just going to dance with you tonight, and be happy for what feels like the first time in months, and then we can deal with the rest whenever. Okay?"

His eyes narrowed.

"What?" I asked self-consciously.

"Kiss me."

Something curled in my stomach—more butterflies, maybe—and I read right into his wide eyes. Like it wasn't a choice, I leaned forward, leaned closer, and then I could hear his breathing come faster. I felt my own heart thumping rapidly, and I reached up to meet his lips.

Damon's head bent at a slight angle so that I didn't have to stand on my toes to get to him. He pulled me so close that I could feel the muscles of his abdomen pressing against my stomach, could feel his heartbeat against mine, could feel his whole body shaking. I shuddered as his teeth grazed my lip, and he pulled back abruptly.

He coughed a little, stepping away. "I, uh…am going to get us more punch."

I spent the rest of the weekend worrying about Damon's secret. I'd told him that it didn't really matter, but that had been an outright lie—maybe not when I'd said it, but it was now. I needed to know what he was hiding. I could feel in my bones that it was dangerous. Still, my trust in him didn't waver. I didn't understand how that could be, but there was no denying it. I wasn't scared of Damon—if anything, I was attracted to him.

For the past four months, I'd been living my life hanging on to the edge of a cliff. My fingers had been slipping, and I was just about to fall when I met Damon.

I knew he wasn't going to pull me back up; I couldn't live on that side of the mountain anymore. Damon was the kind of person who would fall with me. The thing was, falling could either change my life for the best, or it could kill me. There could be a trampoline on the other side to catch us, or we could hit the ground.

All my life, I'd never taken chances. I'd never had to. Everything had been easy. I'd had people to guide me, I'd had warmth, I'd had love. I was never going to feel that again, but I could try to find a new path. I just didn't know how.

On Monday morning, I woke up to sunshine and a smile on my face. It felt foreign; it felt good. I sat up slowly, running a hand through my long hair. My blankets had slipped to floor; I must've tossed and turned in my sleep. That was strange, because I felt well rested.

I reached for my radio to turn on some music, when I noticed the ring Damon had given me was on my finger.

I frowned. I was certain that I had taken it off when I'd gotten home from the dance. I'd set it right down next to that radio, on my bedside table. I knew I'd put it there, because I'd checked later last night to make sure it was still where it was supposed to be—that ring was important to me. There was no way that I'd put it back on, because tonight I'd made dinner, and I wouldn't have worn it to make spaghetti sauce.

I couldn't come up with an explanation, so instead I turned on a good song, and began to get ready for school.

As I dressed, I pondered my ring. It looked a bit like Stefan and Damon's rings, actually. I wondered if Stefan would recognize it, if I showed it to him.

At around seven, I was out of my room. I paused on my way downstairs to knock on Jeremy's door. I hear him stir inside, but he didn't answer me.

Taking a deep breath, I opened it and walked in quietly. "Jer?"

"What do you want?" He was sitting cross-legged, playing on his laptop, already dressed, headphones in his ears.

"I…" I took a seat next to him on his bed. "I wanted to talk to you."

"What do you want to talk about?" His voice was harsh, sarcastic.

I frowned. "Can you please take the earphones out, Jer?"

He sighed irritably and yanked them out. "What, Elena?"

I scooted closer, trying to get him to look me in the eye. "Are you okay?"

He looked away. "Can we not do this now?"

"Answer me."

"Elena."

"Jeremy, answer the question."

He snapped his laptop shut. "What do you think?" He shouted. "Our parents died four months ago. Vikki is sleeping with Tyler Lockwood—she thinks I'm a kid. And everyone always want to talk! But what if I don't want to? What if I like not talking? What if it hurts to talk? What if it feels better to keep it all in?"

I closed my eyes for a small moment. "You can talk to me, Jeremy. I need you to talk to me."

"I need you to leave me alone." He shoved his headphones back in and opened up his laptop again.

"Jeremy please," I begged.

"Get out, Elena. Now."

I swallowed back tears and left the room.

Some part of me had expected Damon to be waiting for me outside, so I wasn't too surprised to see his car idling in the driveway.

"Good morning," I greeted as I stepped into the car.

"I bet."

I rolled my eyes, but then, I frowned. "Can I ask you something? It's going to sound a little…crazy."

He shrugged. "You can ask, but I can't promise an answer."

I decided to take my chances. "Is there…history behind the ring you gave me?"

"Why do you ask?"

I paused. "It's…going to sound weird."

He simply waited.

With a sigh, I said, "I…took it off the other night, after the dance, and I put it on my bedside table, I'm sure of it. I know I didn't put it back on, but this morning, I was wearing it."

His eyes hardened a bit. "Are you sure you didn't just put it on and forget about it?"

"I'm positive, Damon."

It was quiet for a minute, and then he laughed. It was different from the other times I'd heard that laugh, though—this time it seemed forced. "Careful, Elena, it might be magical." His eyebrows rose.

I grinded my teeth. "Fine, don't believe me, but something weird really did happen."

He looked uncomfortable. "You should never take that off, Elena. Alright?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Why? And I thought you didn't believe that it was 'magical'?"

"I don't—it's not." His eyelids fluttered tiredly. "But, you should always keep it on. Think of it as a…good luck charm."

I felt the ring with my thumb. "Okay."

"Thank you." He turned a corner, and the heavy mood seemed to be left on the other side of it. "So, how was your weekend? Full of pining over me, I'm sure?"

Precisely. "No."

He grinned, like he didn't believe me. "Whatever you say."

I crossed my arms. "I'm sure you pined enough for the both of us."

"Oh?"

I nodded. "Mmhm. I bet you dreamed about me."

"That's a smart bet."

My heart tripped over itself. Before I could respond, he pulled up to the school. I sighed as I looked out the window at the bustling building. I wished I could stay in this car, all day with Damon…who was suddenly bent over me, mouth on my cheek, kissing my ear lightly when he spoke. "Have a good daydream…I mean, day."

I laughed lightly, shakily, on my way out of the car. This time, I did wave to him when I before going in the door of the school. He blew me a kiss in return.

Damon was a player, I was smart enough to know that. I was also smart enough not to fall for a player—but not strong enough not to fall with a player.