October 2007:
"Hello?" Elena called into the apartment, chucking her purse and keys onto the side table by the door. She frowned when she didn't get a direct response. The lights and fan clearly indicated that the place was occupied and he had promised he would be there. "Damon?"
Elena stepped forward into the apartment and once her eyes latched on the two figures sitting on the floor in the center of the living room, she couldn't help but let a giggle slip out.
"Shh," Damon snapped, his eyes never leaving the overly fluffy creature sitting in front of him. "Actually, never mind. Keep doing that. It'll distract him."
Elena didn't even try to bite back the smile. "Are you having a staring contest with Mr. Flufferbutter?"
"Jesus Christ, this cat is good!" Damon mumbled in response, ignoring her question. "It doesn't move an inch."
Elena twisted her head, seeing that the cat was indeed unflinchingly staring at Damon. Unlike Damon, however, he didn't look incredibly uncomfortable.
"How long have you been doing this?" Elena inquired.
"Uh, I don't know. Probably like half an hour."
"Damon!"
"I gotta fucking win, Elena. This cat is a tyrant."
"You're actually holding a grudge against the cat? And you think you're going to 'win' by not blinking the longest?!"
"Your cat is Satan. You just don't know because it plays nice with you."
Elena sighed, tapping her foot exaggeratedly in Damon's direction. Yet, neither member of the pair gave her a second glance. She knew Mr. Flufferbutter wouldn't give up until he'd established his dominance and Damon was just nearly as stubborn. A smirk appeared on her face as she realized what she could do.
"Damon, I'm pregnant."
In almost the same nanosecond the words left her lips, Damon's gaze was fully fixed on hers. The shock that marred his features was ridiculously comical and Elena couldn't help but bark out a laugh. After a few more moments, the surprise left Damon's eyes as the realization of what she'd done came over him.
"Good lord," Elena smirked. "It doesn't even matter if the kid can't possibly be yours. Every straight man who's ever had sex will come or go running when they hear that phrase."
Damon growled, pushing himself up off the floor. "You're not pregnant?"
Elena's eyes bulged. "Of course not! I just didn't know what else would get you out of your little game with the cat."
Damon's head shot back to the cat. "Do you see that? He's actually smirking."
"Oh my god," Elena groaned, walking back into her bedroom, stripping off her leather jacket and chucking it on the bed. When she turned, she realized Damon had followed her in.
"I'm just saying if you wanted to end the game, you could have just let me win. I was trying to establish dominance in the house. He thinks he's the Alpha-"
Elena cut him off, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him gently. "Damon, you're a grown man. You are automatically the Alpha. By playing those games with him, you're allowing him to think he has control." Elena smirked as she watched the realization that she was right come over him.
"I just had a staring contest with a cat for thirty minutes," Damon mumbled.
"Yes, you did," Elena replied, her tone like that of a mother speaking to a young child.
"I still think that cat is Satan."
"Well, I just appreciate you putting in the effort, no matter how terribly misguided."
They stared at each other in comfortable silence for a few minutes, a smile on both of their faces from the ridiculousness of Damon's actions when suddenly his eyes lit up with a sparkle.
"Well, all day long I've been searching my mind desperately trying to remember why today was so important and I'm still coming up blank…"
Elena smacked him on the chest, stepping back from him, but instead of allowing it, he simply yanked her back into his arms, wrapping her up in a hug. "Happy Birthday," he grinned into her ear.
Elena groaned, allowing the selfish part of herself to remain in his embrace for a few moments longer before stepping out of it and moving to her dresser to take her jewelry off.
Damon frowned. "What's wrong?"
"It would be a lot happier if it meant I could be three years older every birthday rather than just one," she grumbled under her breath.
She could see Damon smirk in the reflection behind her. "Aw, is someone insecure about their age?"
Elena rolled her eyes at his patronizing tone. "No. I just feel older than my age. I didn't like being eighteen. Nineteen is not much better."
"Elena, you're an actress. Being young is like a godsend. Soon you'll be my age and you'll be considered old and decrepit to all the casting agents."
"I know, I know. I'm just… tired of being written off because of how young I am."
Damon sighed, stepping closer to her to rub his hand up and down her bare arm. "I don't write you off because of your age."
Elena swallowed. Yes, he does. "No, you don't," she replied grudgingly.
"The only reason a nineteen year old wishes they were older is if they want to be twenty-one so that they can drink. But you're hot and famous enough that you don't have to worry about that. People will serve you regardless."
Elena rolled her eyes. "I'm not famous, Damon."
"Yet," Damon shot back. "You're not famous yet. Besides, you know me. Being my age is clearly not glamorous."
"That hot suit you're wearing indicates otherwise. Got another sexy spontaneous date tonight?"
Damon scoffed. "Um, the hot suit is all for your benefit, sweet cheeks. We're going to dinner."
Elena's eyes bulged. "Seriously? To a place nice enough to require a suit?"
"Did you actually think I was going to let you spend your birthday alone in the apartment while I went out to get some? Am I honestly that shitty of a guy to you?"
"No! I just…" Elena sighed. "Birthdays weren't a big deal back home. And for my last birthday, all you did was send me a text saying you weren't getting married anymore."
Damon grimaced, but shook it off. "Extenuating circumstances aside, I'm a damn good birthday provider. So, forget everything you know about birthdays and get ready to be spoiled." Damon started for her door. "Go get dressed in something hot... if you can."
Elena balked. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Damon smirked, that same mischievous flash in his eyes. "I'm just not sure you can deliver." Before she could spit back a retort, he was out of the room.
Elena knew what he was doing. The challenge was purposely meant to bait her into going the extra mile, but she played into it regardless. Seeing that cocky expression fall off of his face was one of her favorite activities. She practically ran to her closet knowing exactly which dress she wanted to wear.
Damon tapped his fingers impatiently against the side of his leg, leaning against the square column of the overly expensive restaurant. Elena had stayed in the car for a few extra seconds so she could fix her makeup, but he had zero idea as to why she thought she needed to.
She had definitely delivered when he'd lured her into dressing as hot as possible. He had no clue when she'd managed to buy the light pink bandage dress, but he was fairly sure it was explicitly crafted to give him blue balls. It was the kind of dress you physically couldn't wear underwear with and its low v-neck cut along with its painfully short hemline had nearly made him run off the road on the drive over to the restaurant. The hot little smirk on her face from knowing she'd affected him so severely wasn't helping matters.
Typically, feeling this absurdly attracted to his roommate would be his stimulus for going out and picking someone else up, but since it was Elena's birthday, that wasn't an option. Besides, he had more pressing issues to deal with, such as the continually vibrating phone in his hand thanks to a certain blonde.
"Who are you texting?" Damon jumped slightly hearing Elena's innocent voice behind him. He put his cell back in his inner jacket pocket, simply smirking in response.
"No one. Come on, princess." He offered his arm out to her, leading her in through the restaurant doors.
3, 2, 1.
Elena could only be confused by the darkened room for a few seconds before the screams and shouts came. The entire place was filled with people, all there to celebrate her. Elena let out a surprised half gasp at the surprise, her eyes indicating that she had absolutely no expectation of it.
Damon was forced to slip his arm out of Elena's grasp as soon as the aforementioned blonde shoved her way through the crowd towards her, crushing her in a hug. It was an honest-to-god party in only six seconds flat, music blasting from the speakers and the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter pulsing through the room.
"Do you like it?" Caroline squealed, finally pulling back from Elena.
"Yeah," Elena mumbled, eyes still wide. Caroline's face fell instantly at Elena's lackadaisical response and Elena immediately went to correct herself. "Sorry, I'm just still in complete shock. It's amazing, Caroline. Thank you."
Caroline perked up again and began to blather on about all of the amenities the party had, along with what really, really famous people had shown up. Suddenly, photographers stepped up to the two women and Caroline pulled her into a dozen different poses. Damon simply stepped over towards the side, not wanting any part of it.
He squeezed through the crowd, making his way to the open bar set up on the perimeter. Flagging down the bartender, he lifted his hand and ordered a beer, leaning his weight on the counter as he scanned the restaurant.
"Now, I took you for a hard liquor kind of guy."
Damon's head whipped to the side. Unknowingly, he'd sidled up directly next to one of his least favorite people. Stefan smirked from his barstool, his apathetic stare already pissing Damon off.
Damon inhaled, knowing that starting off on this guy would only serve to make Elena upset. Besides, he didn't really have a genuine reason to dislike Stefan except for his ridiculously grating personality. "Someone's gotta drive the birthday girl home. The designated driver's taking it easy."
Stefan nodded. "I gotcha, man. Not ragging on you for it."
Damon thanked the bartender as his bottle was returned to him. "How goes the fame and the fortune?"
"Eh, it's alright. Get a break before this new press tour starts up so I'm just enjoying what LA has to offer right now."
"It's just an observation, but you don't seem too thrilled to be here."
Stefan smirk deepened. "Yeah, well, I was planning on having a much more chill night until Barbie called me up and forced me here." As if on cue, Caroline popped up next to the pair, grinning from ear to ear in pride.
"Talking about me? Well, isn't that flattering?"
"Damon was just saying you were looking a little chubby in that dress, wasn't he?"
Damon balked, infuriated with Stefan's lie, but Caroline didn't even flinch. "Bullshit," she shot back at Stefan. "I look damn good in this dress and everyone here knows it. I've been hit on so many times that it's starting to get annoying. Thank god, Elena showed up or I would have been stuck being the hottest girl in here."
Stefan nodded. "You're absolutely right, Care." He turned his attention to Damon. "Clearly, I know what she looks like under the sweatshirts and the jeans. I just could never convince her to actually show it off for the rest of the world."
Damon simply swallowed down another gulp of his beer. He had no clue how to respond to Stefan's comments, mostly because he really just wanted to deck him across the face. "Yeah, well, let's just say I'm not looking forward to hearing Katherine's commentary once she sees the pictures from tonight."
"Oh, yes, that's right. They're going for the good girl angle on her. The unattainable virgin with the heart of gold." Stefan paused for a moment. "It works for her, of course, unless…" Stefan's gaze focused on Damon. "You two finally got together?"
Damon coughed uncomfortably. Caroline's eyes were now also burning into him, a smirk that looked far too knowing marring her features. "Uh, no. We're just friends."
Stefan and Caroline didn't really seem to believe him, but they also didn't bother to pressure him anymore. Caroline's gaze went out to the crowd, her eyes squinting in concern.
"What's wrong, blondie?" Stefan inquired.
"I think I lost Elena," she mumbled.
Damon's eyes immediately widened and he placed his drink back down on the bar. "You think you what? Why did you leave her alone in the first place?"
"She was talking to some mucky-mucks over in the corner. I didn't want to kill the mood if they were going to try and talk business."
Damon was desperately fighting the urge to rip into Caroline for not watching her, but his brain was reminding him that he'd promised to let her be an adult. She'd proved she could take care of herself and he was supposed to respect that. Of course, his brain was also reminding him that the last time she'd been left alone with some producer, he'd tried to get her upstairs with him, and suddenly Damon couldn't stand still.
"I'll be right back." He could practically feel the eye rolls behind him, but he ignored them. If she was totally safe when he found her, he could just play it off as him asking her whether she wanted a drink or not. If she wasn't… well, he might end up in jail for homicide.
It took Damon only about ten minutes of searching before he realized she definitely wasn't in the main part of the restaurant. Thankfully, the light pink dresses were few and far between, but it wasn't any bit more comforting to find that out. He was now having far too many worst-case scenarios fly through his head. He'd barely been able to stop himself from pulling the car over and doing everything in his power to convince her to let him do unspeakable things to her, and he actually had viable reasons not to. Every other straight guy in here just saw a gorgeous, vulnerable girl and probably wouldn't have nearly the same amount of decency as Damon did.
Damon began opening any and all doors on the outskirts of the room, almost hoping he didn't find her in one of them. Just as the realization came over him that she might just be in the restroom, he passed a door a bit more ornate than the rest that was slightly cracked. Damon took a deep breath, before pushing it open, expecting the worst.
"Damon!"
Damon let out a relieved exhale as his eyes rested on the woman he'd been searching for, completely unharmed and alone. She was sitting by herself at an empty bar in the private room, one that was typically designated for much smaller functions. In front of her was a glass tumbler of ice water and her clutch.
Elena's torso immediately straightened up as though she'd been caught doing something bad. Damon frowned, making his way to the seat next to her at the countertop. "What are you doing in here?"
"I, uh," Elena mumbled. "I was just…" Her cheeks were flushed as she blew out a breath. "I was hiding."
Damon smirked. "You do realize all of those people in there like you right?"
"I know!" Elena cried. "And they all came here for me and did this for me and it's amazing and wonderful and I should love it, right? Why don't I love it?"
Damon blinked, surprised at the sudden outburst of emotions. "Well, I'm sure it's a little overwhelming-"
"A little?" Elena scoffed. "There's probably three hundred people out there and I know, like, five of them. But, they all act like they know me. And people are shoving drinks in my face and all trying to talk to me and who the hell hired those photographers because they are actually the most frustrating…"
Elena suddenly trailed off, her eyes widening in realization as her cheeks flushed brighter. "…and that's exactly what my future might be like."
Damon smirked. "Yeah, I think you might want to get used to that, little Miss Actress Extraordinaire. That's what being famous is all about. This is just a preview."
An embarrassed smile formed on Elena's lips. "God, I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner."
"Like you said, it was a surprise. You weren't prepared. But once you get back out there, I'm sure you'll be fine." Elena smiled, but Damon immediately noticed the discomfort in her eyes. "Or… you could not go back in there. Hide in here until everyone leaves."
She rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just have to get my mindset in the right place. I know you worked hard on this…"
Damon scoffed. "Please. The only role I had in this was getting you here. This was all Caroline."
Elena's eyes widened. "Wait, are you serious?"
Damon nodded, his eyes wandering over all of the vintage bottles of alcohol. "Yeah. I'm too lame to come up with something so fabulous," he replied in a mocking tone. "I was just planning on taking you to dinner and maybe some frozen yogurt if you played nice."
Elena was eerily silent next to him, causing him to shift his gaze back to her. Her expression was near impish. "No way," he replied, immediately able to understand what she was hinting at. "Caroline will rip me in half. I barely know the girl, but she would probably chop my dick off if you skipped out."
Elena gave an exaggerated pout. "Please! It's all I want for my birthday!"
Damon felt his resolve weaken at her words, but he tried to fight against it. "You haven't even been here for half an hour. Just give it some time. You'll have fun and you'll make everybody happy."
Elena frowned and it caused a bolt of pride to shoot through Damon. He knew she'd been convinced that he'd fall for the puppy dog eyes. But his contentment was short-lived as he noticed the mischievous spark that replaced them.
Elena slowly leaned forward, the cleavage that was already blatantly on display becoming even more prominent thanks to the sharp angle. One of her manicured hands reached out and fell on Damon's knee. He knew her hands weren't actually searing hot, but the lust-filled eyes she'd trained on him made it feel like he would get second-degree burns from her touch. "But I really, really like frozen yogurt."
Damon tried to maintain her gaze calmly even though his caveman instincts were screaming at him. He had no clue how such an innocent topic could make him half-hard. "Really?" He scoffed, although it sounded more like a choke to him. "That's your line? You really, really like frozen yogurt?"
Elena's gaze didn't falter, but she simply shrugged in response as though her next sentence wouldn't pack the punch that it did. "Just letting you know that I would do a lot of things for frozen yogurt. In fact, if you get me out of this party, my limits drop down to almost nothing."
Every one of her words dripped with sex and sent a lightning bolt of desire to shoot to his groin. Damon suddenly realized Elena had learned that being an adult meant she couldn't pout her way into getting what she wanted. But it sure as hell meant she could seduce him into it.
He knew she wasn't actually planning on doing anything with him, but any ounce of resolve Damon had left immediately melted at her hot stare. "Fine," he growled. "But if Caroline or Katherine or anyone else comes looking for me, I'm siccing them on you."
Elena was instantly back into her overly excited schoolgirl phase, bouncing slightly in her seat as she clapped her hands. They both hopped off of the barstools as Damon eyes the private exit on the side of the room.
Elena, too enthusiastic about her upcoming cheap dessert, accidentally dropped her clutch as she was grabbing for it, causing it to fall on the floor underneath the bar. Without thinking, Elena pivoted, bending over to grab the dropped bag from the ground. Although the movement itself was meant to be harmless, Damon and Elena were still wedged between the barstools and her ass ended up practically grinding against Damon's groin.
Each inhaled sharply at Elena's mistake. Elena had tensed immediately, the brush of their lower halves having indicated just how much Damon had appreciated her earlier manipulation. Damon, on the other hand, had about six thousand different variations of swear words running through his mind along with fifteen different ways he could have her on this damn bar.
Elena stayed in her position and Damon wasn't sure if it was because she enjoyed the proximity or because she was too scared to meet his gaze. She was still sinfully close to him. Damon could see nearly every thread of fabric in the seams of the dress and his height left him in the perfect position of seeing straight down past her exposed clavicle while also providing him with the alluring aroma of her grapefruit scented shampoo.
Damon only noticed his hands move upward after they were already a few inches away from her shoulders. His thoughts were running a mile a minute, too many conflicting questions giving him pause. Why hadn't she just moved yet? What the hell is she thinking right now? Is she terrified? Does she want this? And what the fuck is this anyways? She accidentally bumps into my groin and I literally can't function beyond thinking about a million different ways to get us off? When the hell did it become this bad?
The final question was what shook him. When did it become this unbearable? Damon felt like he was going to explode and it was only getting worse the longer she stayed frozen. His attraction to Elena had always been manageable, easily written off beyond the few times they'd fucked up. And he'd assumed it would only get better when he opened himself up to countless other sexual encounters. But instead, he was just as turned on as he had been when Elena had come in his lap and they'd barely even touched.
And that was when Damon realized he needed to pull away. His vision became far more clear, the lust that had clouded his mind fading away. He knew an awkward shifting of their positions wouldn't erase the incident, so he needed to come up with something more clever. Without a good idea, they wouldn't be able to continue their evening in the perfectly innocent fashion they needed to.
Damon masked his sigh of relief as he figured out how to diffuse the tension in the air in a matter of seconds. He didn't bother hiding the smile that formed on his lips as he moved to push Elena's curled locks over to her left shoulder. The slight shiver Elena provided at her shifting hair almost made Damon change his mind, but his resolve was thankfully stronger than his dick.
Damon leaned in, making sure his hot breath hit her ear enough to make her squirm before he began to whisper, his words falling from his lips in the most exaggerated husky tone he could manage.
"Remind me to promise you frozen yogurt more often."
Elena immediately ripped herself from her position, easily removing herself from Damon's reach and into the main part of the room. Her eyes were wide as she examined him, trying to figure out exactly what he'd meant. Damon simply smirked back at her, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to be the epitome of nonchalance. He knew that joking and humor were their safe territories. As long as he could convince her that the sexual overtones of that moment were funny rather than life changing, he might just be able to convince himself.
Elena still looked fairly stunned so Damon attempted to placate her again. "I mean, you said you had limits but damn girl, that was pretty intense. Keep it in your pants."
Elena immediately flushed and Damon was grateful for the smile she was fighting. "Damon," she whined.
In relief, Damon continued his charade, raising his hands up in the air in surrender. "We really got to get into a space where I'll have witnesses. Just because you're horny and we're all alone doesn't mean you can just throw yourself at me!"
Elena lost the fight against her emotions, a beautiful smile breaking across her lips as she let out a giggle. "God, you suck, Damon."
Damon spun around on his heel, heading towards the door that led back into the restaurant. "Hold on. Before we go, I need to get Caroline to hose you down or something-"
A pealing laugh came from behind him as Elena ran for him, yanking him back by the arm with her modest amount of strength. "Don't you dare!" she cried, still laughing at his antics.
Damon allowed her to pull him back, turning around to face her as he chuckled. Their matching smiles were beaming and the energy of the pair was far more childlike than its previous sexualized edge.
Elena shook her head back and forth, her grin softening. "Fuck you," she mumbled playfully.
Damon noticed something in her eyes at her teasing remark, something that looked similar to relief or gratitude. He briefly wondered if it was meant for him, if her gaze was meant as a silent "thank you" for not letting her do something that would only screw them over in the long run. And he wasn't quite sure how to feel about that.
So he returned to what was most comfortable, the safety zone of their relationship so the conflicting emotions could be pushed away. He mockingly gasped, stepping back from her in exaggerated horror. "Did you just say you want to fuck me?! Elena Gilbert, control yourself!"
"Oh my god!" Elena groaned, yanking Damon again by the arm as he followed her out of the room and out of their near brush with reality.
December 2007:
"Shit," Elena mumbled under her breath, lifting her singed thumb to her mouth, sucking on the burn and hoping that her saliva would somehow have healing powers. After shaking her hand out, she readjusted the thick kitchen towel in her hands and grabbed for the full cookie tray again, pulling them out from the oven as fast as she could and dropping the tray on the stovetop.
Elena grinned in pride at her creation, thrilled that she'd discovered a new talent over the holiday season. While she'd failed miserably at decorating the apartment, selecting their tree, and choosing presents, baking had developed into a newfound skill set and she was incredibly eager to share her latest treats with Damon.
Damon still had no desire to go back to his family and Elena was definitely not planning on visiting home any time soon, leaving the pair with only each other to ring in the holidays with. Alaric had come over for a dinner a few days earlier before he'd headed back to his parents' house in the mountains and Elena had already exchanged her mediocre attempts at gift giving with Stefan, Caroline and Katherine. Now, it was just she and Damon for the next week and a half and it made her slightly nauseated just thinking about it.
She lifted her wrist to check the time on her brand new and overly expensive watch, courtesy of Katherine. Damon was running noticeably late now, indicating that whatever last minute details he'd had to finish up at work were much larger than he'd made them out to be. Elena sighed, deciding to spend the extra time plating the cookies. She wondered if she now understood how a fifties housewife felt when her husband was late. Spending hours preparing food for him, going on without a purpose beyond that of caring for her man. Elena flushed as the idea of being married to Damon tried to root itself deeply into her brain. Stop being such a girl about this. You're never going to actually marry Damon. Take a beat.
After another hour or so, Elena had settled herself on the couch with one of the many Christmas movies playing on TV when Damon noisily entered the apartment. Elena shot up, mentally cursing herself for looking so eager, especially when she noticed how disappointed he seemed.
"Hey," she smiled, deciding to maintain her positive attitude from earlier. "Congratulations! You're on vacation."
The way Damon glared at her, she might as well have been covered in vomit. Her muscles tensed immediately at his hateful expression, instantly backtracking in an attempt to determine what she might have done wrong.
But before Elena could ask any questions, Damon let out a loud and bitter scoff. "Actually, I don't have a vacation anymore."
Elena's eyes bulged. "What do you mean you don't have a vacation?!"
Elena's question only served to anger him further. "It means, Elena," he snapped back, enunciating the words like she was a small child. "that either I keep going back to work or I don't have a job anymore. Sorry if that ruins the perfect little Christmas you had in mind."
Elena flushed slightly, but simply shook her head as Damon chucked his keys onto the counter. She crossed towards him, but stayed a few steps away. "Damon, this isn't about me. Why did they take away your vacation time? Isn't that, like, illegal?"
Another scoff fell from Damon's lips. "No, because I have an actual real-person job. If something isn't finished, we can't just delegate it to an assistant or someone below us while we get our hair and makeup done."
Elena flinched at his cruelty. There was a difference between taking out work frustration and outright insulting her. "Okay, I'm sorry for whatever happened at work, but it's not my fault. There's no reason to be mean to me."
Damon just rolled his eyes, walking briskly past her and into his bedroom. "Whatever, I don't need this."
Elena's jaw dropped. Rushing after him, she pushed into his room just before he could slam the door in his face. "I'm sorry. What exactly do you not need? Someone calling you out on your shit?"
"No!" Damon cried, dropping his briefcase next to his bed before dropping down onto it. "I don't need you guilt-tripping me and trying to make me feel like a shitty person!"
"Well, newsflash, Damon!" Elena flung her hands up in the air. "When you're being a shitty person, I'm gonna let you know it. Same as you would do for me. And right now, you're being the shittiest. I'm sorry you can't have your vacation for whatever mysterious reason you're so against informing me of. I'm sorry you don't get a break because you've earned it after working so damn hard. But most of all, I'm sorry something so terrible happened to you today that you felt entitled to rip into me once you got home."
Elena was breathing heavily at this point from the exertion of the argument, standing with arms crossed as she stared at him. Damon was seated on the edge of the bed, elbows bent on his knees with his face resting in the palms of his hands. She was furious, waiting for him to shoot some nasty remark back, but nothing came.
"Damon-"
"Just leave," he cut her off, his voice monotone. "Just go, Elena."
Although to most others his voice would come off as emotionless or apathetic, Elena immediately picked up on the distress interlaced between his words. And although she was still raring for a fight, she felt herself soften. "Why won't you talk to me, Damon?"
That pulled Damon's head up quickly. "Because I'm really tired of having people being pissed off at me," he snapped, his gaze stony.
Elena exhaled at the determination in his stare. "Well, too late," she mumbled, before spinning on her heel and slamming the door closed behind her.
Damon stomach churned as he clicked submit on yet another fifty page form. Not because he was worried it wouldn't go through, but because he could see the countless other stacks next to his computer he still had left to go. Filling out all of this ridiculous paperwork was the last way he wanted to spend his Christmas Eve, but apparently that was just the cruel way his life was going to work out.
His boss was down the hall in his own office, doing his own share of the workload. They were the only two people left in the whole building thanks to the holiday and he knew neither was happy to be there. They were stuck working on this case for days and barely had a chance to eat or sleep if they wanted to get it done.
Damon knew he wouldn't feel quite as bad about the whole situation if it hadn't been for Elena. He swore he'd never fucked up as much in his entire life than in that one argument. His anger had exponentially increased as he'd driven home from work that evening and by the time he got to their apartment, Elena's smiling face was apparently enough to set him off. It was as if he physically couldn't stop until she was just as unhappy as he was. He'd known how upset she'd be with him for having to spend the holidays at work, but something inside of him decided he'd rather just shut her out completely. Especially once she found out the real reason he was still there.
But, of course, Elena couldn't just ignore him and let him be miserable like any normal person would. No, she had to be so damn decent to his sorry ass. When he'd opened his bedroom door in the middle of the night to go into his bathroom that same evening, he'd almost stepped on the small plate left outside his room. On it was one of Elena's creations: a cookie loaded with various sweet ingredients. Every day since then, no matter how early he'd gotten up to go back to the office, there was a bag sitting on the kitchen counter, filled with lunch and dinner, along with a new single serving of dessert.
Damon ran his hands down over his face before grabbing the paper bag. It was already pretty late in the evening, so he'd eaten both meals, but he hadn't yet seen what she'd done for the last course. He pulled out a small plastic container and set it on his desk, taking a breath before he reached out and removed the lid.
Sitting inside was a chocolate cupcake, the top decorated with white frosting and some candy pieces so that it looked like Santa Claus. And somehow, seeing that cupcake switched something in Damon. He was reminded of the girl who was sitting all alone in her apartment, spending her Christmas by herself simply because the only person that really cared about her was too much of a cowardly dick to do the right thing by her.
Just like that, Damon knew what he had to do.
Grabbing his briefcase and keys, Damon left behind the trash, the documents, and the laptop before rushing out of his office and down the hall to his boss. The second Damon showed his face in the door, his fellow lawyer gave him a look that could kill, but he shook it off, determined to get the words out.
"Sir, I can't be here anymore. I'm going home."
His boss' eyebrows quirked. "I beg your pardon?"
Damon swallowed, losing some of his steam. It was if he'd just suggested they go skinny dipping together. "I'm going home," he reiterated. "I understand that I have a job to do and I understand why I should be here, but I made a huge mistake when I chose to be here today. And I need to fix that."
Mr. Idler took off his glasses, simply staring at Damon as though he'd lost his mind. Part of him just wanted to laugh, insist it was all just a big joke, and slink back to his office, but that damn cupcake floated back into his mind and he continued. "My work and what I do is very important to me. But for the first time in my life, I chose a job over someone I care about… deeply." Damon mentally reassured himself that he'd only added the "deeply" to make his skeptical boss understand, but it didn't feel that wrong to say. "And if I have to keep hurting her just to keep my job, then this job is not worth it."
Damon exhaled. "Mr. Idler, I am leaving to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day as it should be spent. But I will be back at five in the morning on the twenty-sixth, ready to work my ass off for you and rectify the situation. If you don't want me to come back, I'll expect a notice of termination before then, but if not, sir, I will see you bright and early on the twenty-sixth. Good evening and Merry Christmas."
Elena blinked sleepily, the television screen and the fireplace growing blurry under her gaze. She'd spent the evening eating too many cookies and watching the lights twinkle across their view of the city, a Christmas movie or music always playing in the background. She'd wanted to stay up later, but she realized there wasn't much to stay up for. No opening presents under the tree early in the morning, no hot waffles covered in syrup to gorge on until you felt like you might throw up. That part of Christmas wouldn't happen for her this year. She thought that realization might sting a little more, but instead, it simply caused her to snuggle into the couch more deeply as the lull of the Christmas carol on the TV sung her to sleep.
The next thing Elena remembered was Damon kneeling in front of her.
Elena blinked a few times, a small smile forming on her face. "Hey, Damon."
Instead of being met with the typical huge grin, he instead frowned deeply, his gaze imploring. "Elena, I fucked up. I'm so sorry. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm asking for it."
Elena crinkled her eyebrows, frowning at his distress. "That's not how you usually start this," she mumbled.
Damon's lips parted. Clearly, he was just as confused as she was. "What do you mean?"
Elena sighed, stretching slightly. "When you propose to me. You're usually a lot happier."
"I'm not…" Damon frowned again. "I'm not proposing to you."
"Oh. Well, I guess this is a different dream then."
Damon blinked, staring at her in befuddlement for a few moments. "Elena, this isn't a…" He trailed off as something akin to realization came over him. "You've had this dream before?"
Elena nodded, the comfort of the couch luring her back into her fatigue. "Well, you said this wasn't a proposal dream, but you're on your knees so I thought it was. I have that one a lot."
Damon began to speak again, but cut himself off, shaking his head instead. "Elena, this isn't a dream."
Elena smirked. "That's what you always say."
Damon sighed. He went to grab for her hand, rubbing small circles on it with his thumb. "Elena, do you remember why you're mad at me?"
Elena nodded again. "Our fight about you having to be at work."
Damon nodded back at her. "Well, I need to apologize for that. Because I fucked up really bad and I regret it more than anything. But I'm going to wait until you wake up in the morning so that you can hear it for real. Okay?"
"Okay." Elena paused, closing her eyes. "I forgive you, though."
Damon let out an exhale. "We'll see how you feel in the morning. Now, let's get you to bed."
Elena just reached her arms out, using all of her strength to do so, before letting them fall back down gracelessly on her side. Moments later, she felt Damon's warm embrace lift her up and carry her into her room. She felt the dream ending as more restful sleep neared, the comforter being tucked around her body.
"Goodnight, dream Damon," she mumbled, sensing him walk away.
She heard a sigh before his fingers lightly ran along her bare arm. "Elena, this isn't a dream."
"You always say that," she repeated. "If they weren't dreams, I would have woken up with an engagement ring on my finger by now."
Damon didn't respond for a moment, but his fingers halted their journey. His voice was thicker when he finally spoke. "You say yes?"
Elena snuggled into her pillow, the last words falling from her lips the only thing she recalled until morning.
"Every single time."
Elena was awoken by one thing and one thing only: the smell of hot, fluffy carbs.
Shooting up like a bullet from her bed, she raced out into the main part of the apartment, her gaze falling towards the man in her kitchen with the worst yet sexiest bedhead she'd ever seen, lifting the lid on their waffle maker just as she slid in.
"Merry Christmas, Elena," he smiled. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up."
Elena didn't respond, simply allowing her eyes to glaze over the apartment, her jaw dropped. Instrumental Christmas music was playing from the speakers, the fireplace burning fresh. Somehow the lights on the tree and the decorations in the living room seemed twenty times more wonderful than they had all season and Elena had a feeling she knew why.
"You're not at work," she murmured, still stunned as she watched him take two plates over to the coffee table.
"No, I am not," he replied with a sigh. He set their breakfast down on the table before crossing back to her, a sad smile adorning his features. "I realized far too late that spending this day with you was more important than any bullshit case."
Damon took a deep breath before continuing. "I made a huge mistake at work. It was probably the dumbest oversight ever and even you would have been able to spot it. But I didn't. I have never done something that idiotic in my life and not only did I force myself and my boss to spend our vacation redoing nearly five hundred documents, but I probably got myself fired. So when I got home that night… I hated myself too much to be a decent person to you. That's not an excuse for my behavior, though, and I don't deserve your friendship after the way I acted, but I'm swearing to you that I will never do something that heinous again."
Elena nodded her head, a small smile forming on her face. "It's okay. I forgive you. I'm just happy you're here." Elena stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him as he did the same, letting herself soak in his embrace. "Merry Christmas, Damon."
Damon smiled into her hair, his grip tightening on her. "Merry Christmas, Elena."
Suddenly, the sharp growl of Elena's stomach cut off their moment, eliciting laughs from both of them. "Clearly, somebody wants her waffles," Damon chuckled.
"More than you know," she groaned as she stepped back.
Elena plopped down in front of the coffee table as Damon went back into the kitchen to pour two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Once he was seated next to her, Elena barely allowed him to get comfortable before digging in with her fork.
But the moment Elena placed the syrup-drenched piece into her mouth, her stomach sank as a sudden wave of memories came over her.
Damon frowned as he noticed her forlorn expression. "Well, shit. I thought my waffles were pretty damn good."
Elena's mouth suddenly felt incredibly dry despite the presence of the sticky syrup. She swallowed. "No," she mumbled weakly, her face flushing red. "The waffles are perfect. It's just... I sorta kinda just remembered last night."
The knowing smile on Damon's face as he turned his attention to his food instantly confirmed her fears. Her "dream" of Damon had been just the opposite and as it played again across her mind, she remembered her sleepy confession, the one where she always said yes.
Elena was at a loss for words, humiliation over her stupid little secret being exposed rushing through her veins. But before she could offer some half-assed excuse, Damon cut her off.
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm fucking amazing at proposing. No woman is immune to me when I get down on one knee. In fact, I have a 100% success rate."
"Oh my god," Elena groaned, each unable to hold back their smiles at his joke. The tension from earlier disappeared within seconds as the jovial Christmas spirit filled the room once again.
But as Elena went back to her waffles and Damon to his coffee, she began to wonder if, one day, they'd face a moment too genuine to laugh their way out of.
April 2008:
"Damon, come dance with me."
Damon looked up from his concentrated effort of chopping up vegetables to stare at his roommate. She was spinning around in circles by herself, her arms and legs twirling to music only she knew the choreography to. Damon had turned on his iPod earlier that evening just so the apartment could have some background music while he made some soup for himself to freeze later, but Elena had apparently decided to use it for cardio.
"No," Damon chuckled, unable to keep his eyes off of her as she stumbled around by herself. The song was a slow one, so her motions weren't frantic or rushed, but it was still quite clear that she wasn't trained.
"But, Damon, tomorrow is my special day and I want you to dance with me."
The next day was, in fact, probably the biggest day of Elena's life so far: the LA movie premiere. April had come so fast that Damon's head was still spinning. His boss, amazingly enough, had respected Damon more for standing up to him, and even mentioned how lucky he would be if he could have Damon as a partner someday. Of course, this praise didn't come without the added work, but Damon always made sure that he still got to see Elena enough to keep her happy.
His dabbling with other women had decreased in response to the increased workload and the increased time with Elena, but it hadn't bothered him nearly as much as he'd expected. The day after tomorrow, Elena would be flying to the other side of the country, and then overseas, beginning a six-week long press tour for the film. Without Elena around, his schedule would open up significantly and he could do whatever or whoever the hell he wanted in his spare time.
Tonight was really their last night together before she left. The next day would be filled with preparations for the red carpet and Damon was sure he wouldn't see Elena ever again once her hair and makeup team got ahold of her. Although he would be attending the premiere as well, he probably wouldn't even get the chance to hug her goodbye given that she was being swept away by Katherine the second it was over to a hotel so that they could all leave first thing in the morning.
"Don't make me whine, Damon," Elena called out over the music. "I'm not cute when I whine."
Yes, you are. Damon let out a groan. "Only because tomorrow's your special day," he finally acquiesced, coming out from the kitchen and heading over to meet Elena in her position. He grabbed her outstretched hand, pulling her into him just a little bit too hard to elicit one of his new favorite sounds: her giggle.
Damon stared at her as stepped back and forth, merely holding her hand and twisting her arm when she wanted to spin. He was mesmerized by her utter happiness. He'd never seen her look so free. "Did you sneak into the liquor cabinet when I wasn't looking?"
Elena shook her head, slowing her movements down significantly as she stepped into him and placed the pair into a more proper dancing position. "Nope. I'm just really, really happy right now." Her right hand entangled with his left and she lifted it up, her other hand falling to his waist.
Damon smirked as they began stepping in sync, John Mayer belting out the chorus of "Gravity" in the background, a realization slowly forming in his mind. "Ahh, I know what this is."
Elena cocked her head. "What is what?"
"This is pre-princess bliss. You've never gotten to experience it before so your brain's making up for that by turning you all goofy."
Elena made an expression of mock offense. "I am not being goofy. But in the interest of science, please explain this 'pre-princess bliss' to me."
Damon sighed, allowing her to twirl out before pulling her back in. "Pre-princess bliss is the excitement all women get when they get to wear a pretty dress and have their makeup and hair all done up and then they get to have people fawn all over them for it. I'm assuming Jesusville didn't have a prom?"
Elena scoffed. "God no. That would have required me to be within twenty feet of the opposite gender."
"Aww," Damon pouted. "Poor girl never got to be a princess for her prom. You were so deprived."
Elena rolled her eyes. "You know, out of all of the things I wish I hadn't missed out on, prom was not one of them."
"No way," Damon shook his head. "Every girl wants her princess moment. I don't believe it."
"Like you said, I'll get my princess moment tomorrow. I never dreamed about that sort of thing as a kid."
Damon stared at her, the doubt still at the forefront of his mind. After a few moments, he chuckled. "Liar. It's the wedding."
Elena blinked. "The wedding?" she repeated.
Damon nodded, happy he'd finally solved the riddle. "You dream about the big fairytale wedding. The long white dress, all of the flowers, all of the romance. I bet you even want it to happen in a castle."
Elena blushed and her gaze immediately fell to their feet. "No," she mumbled, her words barely coherent. "I don't want that now."
"Yes!" Damon hissed, overly thrilled at finding out her girly little secret. Imagining a little version of Elena dreaming about some luxurious romantic wedding ceremony was far too darn cute.
"Fine, okay! I did. But that was when I was a little kid. Now…" Elena trailed off, her eyes wandering.
"Now what? Civil ceremony in a courthouse with a homeless guy as your witness?"
"No," Elena chuckled. "I just think the ceremony doesn't really matter, you know? If you're marrying the right person, it's 'magical' regardless."
Damon nodded, her words causing a slight tightening in his chest. It was hard to imagine Elena being someone's wife. And not because he didn't think she was capable of it or because he didn't think it would ever happen. He tried to picture her with some other guy, a guy she'd fall in love with and want to spend the rest of her life with, and his brain seemingly wouldn't allow it. As he tried to picture her doing activities he normally associated with a married couple, this other imagined guy never stayed in the image. He always faded away, quickly replaced by… by him.
Understandable, Damon placated himself. They lived together. They were constantly doing stuff like watching TV on the couch together, washing the dishes, or going grocery shopping. Hell, they'd even slept in the same bed together. He'd never seen Elena do anything even close to that with another guy. The only other man she was even friends with was Stefan and there was no way in hell Damon wanted that image planted in his brain.
It still didn't make the idea any less odd. One day, Elena was going to meet some guy and fall for him. She'd go on dates and experience her first relationship. She would move in with him, do everything with him. And Damon would just be her friend. Sure, her friend she'd made out with, shown her darkest sides to… but just her friend nonetheless.
He could practically see Elena thinking the same thing in front of him, her eyebrows only slightly furrowed in concentration, the smile fallen off of her face. Maybe it was easier for her to picture. Maybe she already had someone in mind. Maybe it was-
His falling domino line of thinking was cut off as the song changed, and Elvis' voice began to croon over the speakers.
Wise men say only fools rush in
But I can't help falling in love with you
"Sorry," Damon muttered, reaching towards the iPod speakers. "I think my dad accidentally downloaded some old songs on here."
Elena grabbed for his hand, placing it back into her grasp. "It's fine. I love this song."
Damon pulled back with reluctance. "Really? I'm surprised you know it."
Shall I stay
would it be a sin
If I can't help falling in love with you
Elena nodded, their steps slowing to match the beat. "There was only one store in my entire hometown that played something other than gospel music. He was allowed to play oldies as long as there wasn't any direct mention of anything 'bad.'" A nostalgic smile crept across her face. "I used to love spending hours in there, just listening to the music. Worst thing was, it was a hardware store. I was this seven year old girl, standing in aisles full of nails and car oil, just singing along."
Damon smiled, happy his brain could be filled with the image of little Elena again instead of creeping down its now familiar path of spiraling.
Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
Some things are meant to be
They swayed in silence for a few more lines before Elena finally spoke, her voice much smaller than before. "Everything's gonna change tomorrow," she whispered.
"Are you scared?" Damon asked, his voice lowering to match her own.
"No. I'm just… aware."
Damon was now aware of a few more things, as well. Like that he could feel her breath fanning gently across his face, the slight scrape of the fabrics of their shirts skimming past each other. He was aware of the words being sung and the twisting of his stomach as he tried to ignore them. He was also aware that Elena was no longer meeting his gaze, her eyes focused lower on his face, deadlocked with his lips.
"Change can be good," he whispered. His throat was so dry that he was concerned she wouldn't understand him.
"Yeah," she mumbled. Damon tightened his grip involuntarily on her waist. Her voice was just too damn low and her breath was too damn shallow. All he could tell was that he was losing control of something, but he had no clue just what that something was.
Damon wasn't sure which one of them was leaning in so damn much, but they were now separated by only an inch. They'd stopped dancing although the music played on, and Damon's veins were now pulsing with energy waiting to be released. He wasn't sure what was about to happen, but whatever it was would be the exact opposite of slow and sweet.
"It can be." The words were hoarse falling from Elena's lips and Damon could now feel the mental countdown clock ticking to just seconds. He swallowed, ready to give in, ready to embrace whatever surrender felt like.
Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can't help falling in love with you
But instead, instinct kicked in like a bitch.
"Or it can be bad."
The words were out of Damon's mouth before he could stop them and once they were, the hum of the room's energy turned staccato. Damon stepped back, the movement feeling like the snap of a rubber band. And as his clearer gaze focused in on the woman in front of him, he was able to take in just how far gone she had been, how close they had come to a something. And that's when it all came rushing back in.
He was only able to look at her for a few moments before spinning around as rules and responsibilities and reality flooded into his mind.
You can't do that with Elena. You can't feel that for Elena. You can't be that person for Elena.
Because she's Elena, that's why.
Damon took in a deep breath, hearing those five words repeat over and over again in his mind, but the pulsing energy from before wasn't slowing down like it normally did. Whenever he had wanted Elena before, whenever he felt something stronger than friendship, the mantras helped. They were reminders of why he stayed in control, why he didn't do anything too risky. Crossing that line with Elena had only led to problems in their relationship. And after remembering that, he could fall back into normalcy.
But this time, he was stuck. The words sounded hollow and fell flat against his desire for her. Instead of picturing the times he'd fucked it up before, he could only imagine what could have just happened if he hadn't pulled away. Where would his hands be now? Where would her shirt? Would they still even be in the living room?
The mantras weren't working. The unspoken rules that had been set were meaningless. All the guidelines couldn't stand up against what he wanted. And it took him only a few seconds to figure out why.
Like a river flows surely to the sea
Darling so it goes
Some things are meant to be
Because they were all shit.
They didn't mean anything. There wasn't any reasoning as to why they weren't together. They just… weren't.
They were both single. They were both attracted to each other. On top of all that, they genuinely liked the other, for the good and the bad.
All of the rules, all of the reasons were set without foundation. They only kept things under control. They made their world feel easier. But now whatever Damon felt was too powerful, too consuming to be held back by walls paper-thin in their rationality.
Nothing was stopping them from being together. Nothing was stopping Damon from turning around and pulling her into his arms and kissing her until she couldn't stand up on her own.
But as Damon spun around on his heel, ready to see just where this limitless possibility could take him, he was met with an empty room.
Take my hand, take my whole life too
For I can't help falling in love with you
Nothing could stop him… except for that.
For I can't help falling in love with you