Hello :) Did you miss me? And by me, I mean these lovely little notes in bold that used to adorn most chapters. Well, they're back... at least for this chapter. This will be short, though, I promise.
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Not really sure how to feel about it
Something in the way you move
Makes me feel like I can't live without you
It takes me all the way
I want you to stay
April 2008, Part Two:
The problem with opening oneself up to a feeling or an idea as intense as what Damon had encountered the previous night is that it quickly becomes the only thing one can dwell upon.
When Damon had woken up that morning, he'd wanted Elena lying next to him. When he'd made coffee for himself, his hand almost immediately went for a second mug, even after multiple signs indicated that Elena wasn't there. And, now, as he fixed his tie, atypically desperate to get it perfectly straight, he wished she could be there to tell him he looked fine and that he should stop being so paranoid, her warm hands rubbing imaginary lines down his shirt sleeves.
But of course, Elena wasn't there to comfort him. While Damon was still asleep, she'd made her way over to the hotel suite Katherine had rented to get ready in. Today was all about Elena. There was no time for the two of them as a pair, regardless of what had occurred last night, and there wouldn't be any time for almost two months. He'd be "with" Elena all day, but only as friendly support, a pillar of grounded strength while she was swept away by all of the glamour and fame.
Damon finally gave up on the tie, realizing he'd never be satisfied with its positioning regardless of how much he tugged. Although he appreciated suits, he'd always felt strangely wrong in one. Especially one as expensive and upper-tier as the one Katherine had wrangled him. Maybe it was the small-town kid still embedded deep inside his heart, but he had a sinking suspicion that the more Elena was thrust into this elitist world, the less he'd seemingly fit in.
Damon's wandering mind led him to drifting across the apartment and into Elena's room. Pushing the already cracked door open, he found her bedroom nearly spotless. To the average set of eyes, you wouldn't know its occupant had left for a weeks-long vacation. But Damon could easily pick up on the telltale indicators. First and foremost, the very fact that it was clean was enough to indicate its vacancy. He hadn't seen it this neat since they'd moved in.
As Damon's eyes scanned the room, he latched on to another peculiarly empty space: a small cleared area on her dresser. As his brain identified exactly what typically rested there, he couldn't fight the smile that bloomed across his face. For some reason, Elena had decided she wanted to bring along that picture, the more polite, posed version of their tired smiles at the diner from their very first night in the city. Realizing this caused Damon to swallow, his exhale coming out slightly shaky. Little things like this now made him virtually nonfunctional under their miniscule weight. They would mean nearly nothing to so many others, but to him, it meant everything.
Damon was shaken out of his reverie by the feeling of thick fur twisting around his ankle, the accompanying meow ripping his gaze downwards.
"Hey, ya little rascal," he grumbled, leaning down to stroke its back. Mr. Flufferbutter immediately shot away, backing into the bed in his attempts to get away. The cat suspiciously stared at Damon, as if questioning whether he was really stuck living with this guy for weeks without his Mommy as an ally.
"You miss her already?" Damon asked quietly.
The cat, although clearly not understanding Damon's question given his non-human state, did shift out of its defensive posture at Damon's soothing tone, his beady eyes still giving him a curious glare.
"Yeah," Damon sighed, pushing himself up off of his knees. "Me too."
Damon's repeated and unanswered banging on the hotel suite door, while clearly able to hear the booming music and loud conversations of the people inside, made him feel like the nerd who was trying to crash the cool kids' party. He was about ten seconds from just giving up and going to sit in a coffee shop somewhere before the door was answered by a dazed and confused twenty-something.
"Can I help you?"
"Yeah, I'm Damon, Elena's friend. The front desk called about me a few seconds ago." Damon's eyes drifted into the luxurious suite. Although he couldn't see Elena in the main room, he could see about ten others that he didn't recognize at all, making him wonder whether he'd even come to the right room.
The girl shook her head back and forth, and Damon was instantly reminded of the time he'd tried to get onto the film's set all of those months back. Hopefully, his princess in shining armor would come rescue him from yet another confused and overly obedient assistant.
"Damon." Well, that was definitely not a princess. Damon turned his head towards the sound of the purr and his eyes immediately bulged. Katherine came up from behind the young girl, indelicately shoving her into the suite so that she could stumble back to the group. But what was most unsettling was the elaborate white and gold gown she was sporting.
"Jesus Christ, Katherine, are you shitting me?!" Damon cried. Although his tone was raised, the loud group on the couches barely registered his outburst.
"Come on, Damon," Katherine called out over her shoulder, already heading back into the room with Damon right on her tail. "Tell me how beautiful I look. Be a gentleman."
Damon bit back a growl. "I knew you were pathetic enough to spend your days living vicariously through people with actual talent, but this is just pitiful. You and I both know agents are not supposed to wear fucking ball gowns to your client's movie premiere."
Katherine let out an exaggerated pout, picking up a glass full of some fruity cocktail that Damon wouldn't even deign to taste. "You have such grandiose ideas about how awful I am, Damon. Maybe I'm just a girl who fell in love with a dress and wants to show support for her client by dressing the part."
"Bullshit," Damon shot back. "But the best part is that I doubt anybody will even notice you're there if you're anywhere close to Elena."
Katherine shrugged, crossing the room quickly at the sound of her cell phone going off. As she scrolled through whatever message she received, she raised her voice so she could be heard by Damon regardless of the crowd's noise. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was that the long awaited 'thank you' speech I so rightfully deserve given that I'm the one who's gotten Elena to this premiere in the first place? If so, you're welcome."
Damon rolled his eyes, ignoring her digging. "Where's Elena?"
Katherine was now distracted at this point, mumbling a swear word under her breath as her scrolling grew more frantic. "Uh, in the master… Fuck!"
Damon's frustration towards her waned, now more curious to see what was causing the typically unflappable Katherine to crack. "What's wrong?" he inquired, his tone slightly accusatory.
"Nothing," Katherine mumbled. Her head shot up at Damon's silence and she groaned when she saw his dubious gaze. "Seriously, nothing you need to worry about. Just complications with our transportation set-up. I can get it fixed, but I need to run out for a few." Once again, Katherine was across the room, shoving aside a woman with a wild pink hairstreak to dig a bottle out of her bag. She came back to Damon, frantically thrusting the bottle in his hands. "I just need you to run this in for Elena."
Not that Damon had anything against it, but simply because he couldn't resist the opportunity to ruffle Katherine's feathers, he challenged it following her back to the entrance hall. "Isn't this what you hired these ten random people to do?"
"They've all been ridiculous disappointments, Damon!" Katherine cried, her anxiety increasing with every word. "Are you happy?! They're either already completely wasted or just some untrained idiots wanting to get their fucking fifteen minutes! It takes awhile to set up a team and all of my good ones are with my other clients. I basically did Elena's hair and makeup myself! I would love to stick around for you to hold this over my head, but I have to try to salvage the day for your best friend. So, please, Damon, just walk this in for her!"
Katherine was breathing heavily by the end of her rant and Damon even noticed a strand fall from her perfectly curled locks. Damon sighed. Regardless of how much she might piss him off, she was totally devoted to her job and he knew a screw-up like this was rare and desperately avoided.
"I wouldn't have known something was off unless you told me," Damon reassured her, the animosity stripped from his tone. "You've done a good job so far. Just go. I'll deal with Elena."
Katherine blinked, almost as surprised as Damon was at his words. He decided he could rationalize his comforting as just trying to keep Katherine calm so that she could do her job better, but he knew it was really that side of him he was constantly trying to keep buried. Seeing a woman in distress just set something off in him that made him desperate to remedy the situation, to be the hero.
"Thanks," Katherine replied quietly, allowing herself a few moments of calm before rushing off to fix whatever had been broken.
Damon exhaled, glancing at the group in the living room and wondering why Katherine hadn't just sent them off yet, but determined it wasn't his place to kick them out. Besides, his main goal was still Elena.
Entering back into the small hallway, he opened every single closed door, only finding empty bathrooms and bedrooms, each a reminder of how overly opulent Katherine's choice had been. Once he made it to the end of the hall, he realized it made sense that the largest bedroom would be in the back.
For some reason, once he reached the expected door, he hesitated to open it. Instead, he found himself taking a deep breath, as though preparing himself for what he might find inside. His mind even briefly flickered to grabbing one of the drunken youths from the living room to do the ridiculously simple task for him. Damon nearly let out a groan as he allowed logic to correct him. It was just Elena. Why the hell was he scared of her?
The sinking suspicion that last night may have been far more monumental than he'd realized hit him like a ton of bricks.
Finally reaching a highly anticipated moment is typically always disappointing. In Damon's experience, the moment never lives up to its hype. He'd spent nearly every moment since Elena had walked away from him last night wondering what exactly would happen when he did see her again. But as he stepped into the bedroom, all of his expectations were blown out the window.
Sitting cross-legged in the middle of a king-sized bed covered in various high-heeled sandals and beauty tools was Elena, her brown eyes fully focused on the laptop balancing on her thighs. Damon had caught her in this position a million different times since their friendship had reignited, but never had she looked so damn good.
Elena's head finally shot up at Damon's entrance. "Hey," she mumbled, her expression shockingly apathetic before she dove straight back into her laptop. "What's up?"
Damon's jaw dropped. Remind me to never have expectations for anything ever again. "Elena, what are you doing?"
"Writing," Elena mumbled, her fingers rapidly hitting the keys. "I just need to get this out…"
Damon practically crashed the bottle of product he had in his hands down onto the nearby dresser as the realization of what Elena was really doing hit him. "Alright, get the fuck up," Damon growled, his tone lacking in anger but not in urgency. Damon crossed to the bed, slamming Elena's laptop shut and grabbing her by the arm.
"Damon, what the hell? I didn't save that!" Elena cried, fighting slightly as he pulled her up and off of the bed.
"Do me a favor and shut up for five seconds," Damon replied calmly, dragging her over to the side of the room. Stopping once they reached his desired location, he positioned Elena, her wide eyes still focused on him.
"Damon-" she mumbled.
Damon grabbed her by the chin gently. "I said," he replied quietly before turning her gaze to face forward. "Shut… up."
Although he would have loved a dramatic gasp, the soft intake of breath he got instead was well worth it.
Thanks to the full-length mirror Damon had pushed her towards, Elena was now able to see the most beautiful thing in the room: herself.
Damon had seen pictures and sketches of the gown sitting on their kitchen counter a few weeks back, but the shots of it on the lifeless skin-and-bones model paled in comparison to the way it fell over Elena's curves. The silken fabric consisted of an ornate blood-red floral pattern on a cream backdrop, the straight floor-length skirt skimming over Elena's hips and legs. Two wide bands of vertical fabric joined in an elaborate halter fashion on top, leaving her back and arms bare, as well as an inch-thick line between her breasts. Elena's hair was curled into a loose bun to emphasize the allure of her exposed skin and the delicate diamond earrings that swung lightly back and forth as they reached their equilibrium.
"As your friend," Damon murmured into her ear. "My official duty is to make sure you never stop realizing just how big of a deal tonight is. No matter how scary that might be."
Elena swallowed, a slight flush rising on her cheeks at the intimate examination of both her appearance and the inside of her head. Damon sensed her discomfort increasing so he moved his hand, skimming his knuckles down her bare arm in an attempt to keep her calm. It seemed to have the opposite effect though, her muscles visibly tensing under his touch. Her eyes darted away from their previously locked inspection of her figure and she shifted her gaze to the dresser.
"What did you bring in earlier?" She asked evenly.
Damon blinked, surprised at her feigned nonchalance. He'd assumed there would be some sort of tension due to their heated encounter the previous night, but she must have just been too caught up in her own head thanks to the impending premiere. "Uh, I'm not sure," Damon replied, crossing to grab the squeeze bottle. "Looks like some sort of lotion."
Elena grabbed it from his hands once he'd come back, her brow furrowing as she read the label. "Oh, yeah. Katherine mentioned this earlier. It's supposed to make my skin glow or something like that for the cameras."
Elena opened the bottle, squeezing some of the formula into her palm. But as Damon watched her, he noticed her hands quiver as they went to spread the lotion across her forearms. Clearly, her self-reminder of the paparazzi's presence was forcing her back into her previously anxious state. Damon might have promised to not let her become too removed from tonight, but he sure as hell wasn't going to allow her to stew in her own worries either.
"You want some help?" Damon inquired.
Elena simply nodded, nearly shoving the bottle back into his hands. "I think I got my arms," she replied shakily. "But my back…"
"Got it," Damon replied, applying a dollop of the cream to his own palm before chucking the bottle back onto the bed behind him.
The twelve-year-old boy in him was doing front flips over the opportunity to rub lotion on Elena's bare back. And although touching her ridiculously soft olive-toned skin was making him severely regret pulling away from her the previous night, Elena's gaze in the mirror proved that she was about one step from falling off of the cliff into panic mode. And he knew damned well that Elena would run for the hills if she were given the opportunity. Now was definitely not the time to delve deep into what Damon had discovered and how much he hated the idea of her leaving him for the next six weeks.
"Did you talk to Katherine yet?" Elena asked. Damon smirked at the obvious insecurity in her tone, although it only served to aggravate him further over Katherine's choice of dress.
"Katherine who?" Damon replied, catching a small smile slip across Elena's face.
"Damon, I'm serious," Elena shot back, biting her lip. "She looks-"
"Trashy and pathetic for trying so hard. Tonight isn't about her." Damon finished smoothing in the last of the sparkly concoction on her shoulders. "And regardless of what you might think, no one will even notice her once they've seen you."
Elena stiffened at his words, surprising him. Apparently his innocent compliment had come out far more sensually than he'd intended. As he replayed the moment back in his mind, he realized his voice had been about two shades deeper while his fingers had been absentmindedly playing with the thick straps that covered her chest.
Damon swallowed, prepared to remedy the situation with humor once again. He had a much stronger urge to stop himself from placating her and instead allow the meaning behind his sentiment settle in the air, but he knew that Elena didn't need any added stressors for her evening.
Yet another witty comment crafted to create that famous blush rested on the tip of his tongue, but Elena's quick dash out of his arms settled that internal debate for him.
"I can't do this!" Elena cried, her words coming out like a near hiss thanks to her over-accelerated breathing. "I can't do tonight. This is too much, too fast!" Elena whirled around, her eyes pleading. "Damon, you have to help me get out of here."
Damon's lips parted, his own heart rate increasing at her sudden emotional turnaround. "Hey, Elena, come on. I need you to take a deep breath-"
"No, no, no!" Elena darted to the bed, digging through a metallic clutch to obtain her cell phone. "I'm gonna call a cab and you're just going to tell Katherine that I'm sick, like violently ill, and I'll just go back to the apartment. Or we can go someplace together! Yeah, we'll just hop on a plane and go somewhere and Katherine won't be able to find us!"
Damon crossed the room quickly, grabbing the cell phone out of her shaking hands and tossing it out of her reach. Her completely irrational, although highly desirable, Plan B brainstorming was the beginning of a meltdown that would only serve to ruin her evening before it had even begun. He cursed himself for realizing too late that last night's serenity was only the calm before the storm. Elena was about to be faced with hundreds of strangers shouting her name while also being forced to sit through two hours of her own face on a huge theater screen. This was her acting debut and tonight she'd be opening herself up to public criticism left and right. Elena could break down crying over burnt toast. He was an idiot to think something this taxing wouldn't push her over the limit.
Gripping her hands tightly, he said a silent prayer of gratitude that the tears hadn't started to fall, knowing that her makeup had probably taken at least an hour to complete. But her wide eyes and frantic breathing indicated that they were quickly arriving if he didn't do something to allay her fears. "Elena, I want to help you, but I need you to take some deep breaths. Can you do that for me?"
Elena shook her head back and forth rapidly. "Damon, I don't want to go! They're going to hate me. Everyone's going to hate me!"
Damon couldn't stop the small chuckle that fell from his lips at her absurdity. "That's impossible." Elena began to shake her head in doubt again, but he stopped her. "It's impossible," he repeated, emphasizing every syllable. He pulled her hands in between their chests, clasping them together with his own before making sure she met his stare. "Elena, you're brilliant. And I'm not going to bullshit you because you don't deserve to hear bullshit so you're going to listen to me when I tell you that you are brilliant. You made that shitty audition room in some studio in downtown LA light up the moment you started speaking. You're not standing here right now and you didn't get this role just because you look good in your underwear… although, you do look damned good in a swimsuit. You are standing here because you have an undeniable talent that no one can take away from you. And I know without a doubt that this is only the first premiere out of dozens and dozens more. And you will get through every single one of those premieres because you're strong. I don't think I've ever told you that, but you're one of the bravest and strongest people I know. You somehow made it out of that one-horse town in the middle of nowhere purely by your own determination. And by that same determination, you somehow got some idiot who was far too content being nothing for the rest of his life to move all the way across the country with you for no damned apparent reason. You worked your ass off to get here today because you knew that you had something in you that the whole world should be able to see. And tonight they're going to see it and they're going to wonder where you've been their whole fucking lives."
Elena had been intently focused on Damon for his entire speech, a small smile breaking across her face at his jokes, her eyes watering and head shaking every time he heaped on another compliment. She swallowed deeply, her gaze falling to their interlocked hands between them. "And what if they don't?" She paused, collecting herself. "What if this is just one huge public failure? What if everyone still hates me?"
"Still impossible," Damon replied calmly. "Because I'm always going to be there. And I'm going to give you a standing ovation tonight even if I'm the only one in the whole theater clapping. And if everyone boos you and throws tomatoes at you, then I'm going to take you to that diner we went to the first night we were here, get some milkshakes to go, and we're going to find some place far, far away so that you'll never have to deal with those fucking idiots ever again." Elena let out a laugh, the relief flooding her face at his silliness.
"I'm serious," Damon shot back. "Don't laugh!" His command only increased both of their giggling. "You're going to dye your hair platinum blonde and I will start wearing Hawaiian shirts. We'll start breeding something… like ferrets… and we'll get morbidly obese so that we're unrecognizable to even our own parents."
"No way," Elena snapped, her grin sparkling. "There's no way you'd let yourself get fat. What would you do without your six-pack and your constant stream of women?"
"See? That's how much I'm willing to bet you're going to knock it out of the park tonight. I've got my eight-pack and casual sex on the line here."
As their laughter faded, Elena's smile began to waver and he could see her fighting internally to keep all of the negative thoughts away. He sighed. He knew that previously mentioned strength meant that the worst of her panic was gone, but it didn't mean that her anxiety didn't still flicker at the edges of her psyche.
He reached up to cup her chin, smoothing his thumb lightly across her cheekbones. As he stared at her, he was overwhelmed by the truth in his earlier statements. She was brilliant. She was the dazzling ball of light in any room she was in. Even in the foulest of moods, all eyes could be locked on her. She could draw people in so tightly that they would leave behind everything they'd ever known and all reason just to follow her and her desperate ambition. And after tonight, so many others would begin to be pulled in by it. The spark behind those big brown eyes that were deadlocked with his would no longer be just for him. After tonight, it belonged to the world.
"You're going to be fine," Damon vowed, his voice coming out like a sigh. "No matter what happens tonight, I'll be right next to you. Okay?" Elena nodded her head slowly up and down, trusting him completely. "I love you and everything's going to be fine."
A bucket of ice cold water being poured over both of their heads wouldn't be able to compete with the amount of gut-wrenching shock his statement provided. It was the record scratch of all record scratches, the collision of two high-speed trains on the same track. And it took only about two seconds of rapid blinking for Elena to realize just how colossal that reassuring statement had been.
"What?"
Elena's question was left to hang in the thick air as the door to the bedroom swung open, Katherine too absorbed in her phone to realize what she'd just walked in on. "Alright, the car situation is resolved. I need Elena and Stefan to be seen going to the hotel together so the limo for you two will be in the front for the cameras and, Damon, you'll need to go out the side. I have a perfectly suitable car that will take you back to the apartment."
Katherine's head rose when she was met with complete silence. Elena could only see it in her peripheral, unable to rip her eyes away from Damon and the implicit inquiry in his stare. Mostly because it was the exact same one in her own.
"Oh god, please tell me you're not having a breakdown."
Elena's head swiveled, given that the statement was directed at her. She blinked a few times before shaking her head rapidly back and forth. "Um, no. Well, yes I did, but Damon helped me through it. I'm fine now."
Katherine, now fully focused on the pair, was starting to become vastly more aware of the tension in the room. Her gaze grew suspicious and her tone accusatory. "Did anything else happen?" she asked through gritted teeth.
Elena turned to Damon, as though he was the only one who would have the answer. But his eyes were now turned down to the floor, his hands in his pockets. She bit back a sigh at how guilty he appeared, knowing she wouldn't be able to brush off Katherine's concerns. He really was the only one that could answer whether something vital had just occurred. If he would give her anything else to go off of, she wouldn't feel like she was covering something up. "No, it just got too intense for a minute. Nothing to worry about."
Katherine's stare was lethal. "I hope both of you understand how important tonight is when it comes to setting Elena up for the press. I am not prepared to market Elena in some sort of twisted relationship with her roommate so don't you dare pull this kind of warped bullshit when all eyes are on her. Do you understand? It's bad enough I let you bring Damon as your plus-one."
"It's fine, Katherine," Elena snapped, enough fury in her tone to even surprise Katherine. "Damon and I are just friends." Her head whipped around to the man standing next to her. "Right?"
Although his input on the situation was meant to placate Katherine, Elena was also using it as her own personal litmus test. Damon hadn't been able to inform her of just how seriously she should be taking those three little words and she wanted answers. Was she meant to feel like the ground had just shifted beneath her? Or was it just another example of her hearing what she wanted to hear?
But Katherine wasn't having it. "Whatever. I don't have time to fuck around with your teenage drama. We're running late as it is and I don't mean just the fashionable kind. Say your goodbyes. With the amount I have planned for Elena tonight, you guys won't be seeing each other again until June."
Elena felt the panic rise again in her throat. Mentally, she was screaming at Katherine for what she'd just said and pleading with her to leave them alone for just a few more minutes. She couldn't just not see Damon for the next six weeks without answers. It was bad enough to be faced with the reality that she was going to be without her best friend for nearly a month and a half, but now there was the looming possibility that he could want to be more than that… much more than that.
"Damon?" She was grateful that at least Katherine had distracted herself with packing up some of their things. She wouldn't notice just how intently Elena was focusing on him.
Damon was finally meeting her gaze again, but he didn't seem to be able to handle her intense scrutiny. Instead, he pulled her into what was just meant to be their goodbye hug. And for the first time ever, his arms didn't comfort her. The embrace was awkward and tight, as if he'd rather be anyplace else but right there with her.
Damon pulled back fairly quickly, obviously feeling that same discomfort. Katherine was finished grabbing what she needed and was now waiting at the door. "Ready?" she asked, jerking her head in the direction of the hallway.
Elena nodded dumbly, still feeling shell shocked from the past five minutes. She weakly turned her head back in his direction. "Bye, Damon," she mumbled. There were a million things left to say, but they were all left to be said by him.
"Bye, Elena," Damon replied just as feebly. Elena felt her gut wrench at the words. Silly girl, she reminded herself. Always turning your molehills into mountains.
Elena turned for the door as Katherine walked out into the main part of the suite, hurriedly heading for the main door. Elena decided to focus on getting her breathing back to normal, needing some sort of natural assistance to make it through. The sharp tug of her wrist that followed soon after, though, was the deep exhale of relief she so desperately craved.
She wasn't given much time to think, which, in hindsight, was exactly what she needed. Damon's lips were on hers before she could comprehend the gravity of what was happening, allowing her to just fall into it. Her body welcomed his touch this time, even if it was only the gentle pressure of his lips against hers and his fingers around her wrist. The kiss was brief… way, way too brief given what had almost occurred the previous night, but it didn't mean it lacked in impact. In fact, it felt like the most potent kiss they'd ever had. And when he pulled away from her, an involuntary whimper came from deep within her throat, inviting a small, sad smile across his face.
"I'm sorry." Damon whispered, his words laced with an intensity she'd never been faced with before. She'd always known it was in him, but hearing it for the first time made her quake. "But I meant what I said."
And with that, Damon exited the room, trailing after Katherine out of the suite, leaving Elena with no choice but to follow. And follow she did.
The problem with opening oneself up to a feeling or an idea as intense as what Damon had encountered that night is that it quickly becomes the only thing one can dwell upon.
And tonight, Damon had opened himself up to the most intense emotion of all.
His unintentional slip-up had consumed him so deeply that there had been nothing left to think about. And throughout the thousands upon thousands of pictures taken and the expected standing ovation of the film as soon as the credits rolled, he'd thought of nothing but what he'd done. Every fleeting emotion, every choice was dictated by the words that had tumbled through his lips. His mind was not his own. It was hers and she would still own it even thousands of miles away.
Damon wasn't unfamiliar with the phenomena. He'd experienced it before. It was just how he fell in love: totally and effusively. His only other girlfriend could attest to that. He'd always assumed teenage hormones had been what had made his emotions seem so overriding, but even his much older self was left with the same crippling longing.
He wanted her in every way and all at once. Seeing her in those passionate and sexually driven scenes with guys like Stefan or Mason was enough to make him rabidly jealous, regardless of how fake he knew it was. And watching her from a distance as she'd grown from enthusiastic and awed to exhausted and overwhelmed made him want to steal her away from the crowds and give her the safety and comfort he knew she so desperately craved. All of this was combined with the swelling pride of seeing his girl do so damned well, despite her doubt and fears.
The bitter realization that he would be without her despite that crushing need made him chuck his shoes against the wall the second he settled on the bed in his empty apartment. It was close to midnight and he knew he needed to get some sleep before work the next morning. But he was also well aware that he wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.
"Fuck," Damon hissed. He shook his head at his naivety from the previous night. While dancing with Elena, he'd wondered what could possibly go wrong by opening himself up to something more with her. And now he knew. Now all he could do was hate himself and feel like shit.
Damon yanked off his jacket, watch, and belt before collapsing back onto the bed, his eyes burning holes into the ceiling. He might as well start the self-loathing as soon as possible. His mind first floated to the shelf of alcohol just a few rooms away, but he knew he probably shouldn't risk losing his job on top of everything else by coming in drunk the next day.
The violently loud ringing of his cellphone cut him off from making any more plans. Damon groaned, hoping it was somebody important on the other end so that he could so graciously fuck it up with someone else. The cherry on top of the self-deprecation sundae.
"Hello?"
"You suck."
Damon felt his stomach tense at the voice on the other end. No, no, no… fuck no.
"Elena-"
"No, really. You need to hear that. You need to hear that you suck. And you need to know that it was shitty of you to do that and to say that when you knew I couldn't do anything about it. When you knew I was leaving for six weeks. I mean, Jesus Christ, Damon. Don't you think I have enough shit on my plate already? You couldn't have waited to let something like that slip when we had some time to talk it out or, I don't know, actually be in the same country together."
Damon let out a deep exhale. "You're right, Elena. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well you already said that." The steam and frustration Elena had built up over the past few hours had faded as quickly as it had come and now she seemed just as stressed and worn down as Damon was. She was silent on the other end of the line, the silence peppered with the occasional delicate inhale.
Damon knew he needed to redeem himself for his uncouth declaration. "Well, we can talk now... Although I'm sure whatever hotel suite party Stefan is throwing right now is pretty epic."
Elena scoffed on the other end. "Yeah, well… you know me. I just love epic parties."
Damon smirked. "I do know you and I know that if there's an awesome party somewhere, you're probably hiding away in your room avoiding it." He could see her already, probably curled up on that same hotel bed still in her extravagant dress, rolling her eyes every time the music got too loud or the shouts got too exuberant.
Elena was silent for a few moments before he heard her shift, her voice coming out as timid as a whisper. "So… you love me?"
Damon's chest tightened. Well, fuck. She was going straight for the kill. "Yeah."
Idiot.
"And just to clarify before we get way too deep into this, you love love me? Beyond just the 'crying at my funeral kind of love.'"
Damon smirked. "Yeah, beyond that."
Elena sighed heavily. "And when did you figure this out?"
Damon bit back a groan at the way she was so casually talking her way around the subject. "I don't know, Elena. It wasn't like I did a couple of scientific experiments and made a theory based off of my findings. It was… gradual or whatever. I guess I picked up on it last night."
"Last night?!" Elena hissed. "And you didn't think you should wait a few days or something before you started blurting it out?!"
"It just slipped out, Elena! Christ, I didn't plan for this to happen. And I know it might be the last thing you want to hear, but maybe I didn't realize just how strongly I felt until I'd said it out loud."
The silence that followed was incredibly loud and Damon almost had to check if the call was still connected. But before he could pull the phone away to check the screen, Elena let out another deafening sigh. "Isn't this supposed to be more romantic?" she asked quietly.
Another wave of self-hatred rushed through him. Through all of his egocentric, narcissistic focus, he'd neglected to realize that his declaration was Elena's first. No man had ever told her those three words before and he'd fucked it up.
"Yeah, it is," Damon snapped, the anger in his tone fully directed at him. "You were just unlucky enough to get saddled with a fuck-up like me."
Damon expected another sigh or more of that crippling silence, so the melodious, disbelieving giggle that filled his right ear was surprising to say the least. "You? The fuck-up? God, Damon. You couldn't be more wrong if you think that's how I feel about you."
The organs underneath his flat stomach fluttered slightly at Elena's words. He stopped himself from completely showing his hand and asking her just what she had meant by that. He wasn't sure he was quite ready to hear her answer, despite the hope her words had created. Clearly, she wasn't jumping at the chance to make it clear that she reciprocated his feelings.
Damon sat up in the bed, letting out a groan. "I wish you were here, Elena," he remarked, unsure if she would even be able to hear him thanks to the way his mouth was slightly muffled into his hands. "I could do this right if you were here."
He practically heard her smirk despite their distance. "Maybe it's best for us to be apart," she mumbled. "We've never done this sort of shit the way we're supposed to. I mean, I highly doubt there's much else we could do with my last five hours in the country…"
Damon scoffed. "Oh, I could think of plenty of things to do in five hours if you were here, Elena."
His words gave Elena pause and Damon could tell he'd shaken her. "I-I didn't mean like that." Although her voice revealed her nerves, he could also sense the slight backdrop of hunger he'd evoked.
"I know what you meant, Elena."
Elena's breathing had now ramped up slightly. "Is that why you…"
"No," Damon cut her off, stopping her from any doubts. "I want you for more than that. But it is part of it. Hell, it's been part of it for a long time. And I know it's been part of it for you, too."
"Yeah," Elena replied. Damon was shocked by how one little word could both relieve and torment him. "Yeah, it has."
Damon knew she was thinking about the night before, how much she'd wanted him in a way she'd always been taught was so wrong. But through all of the fleeting moments they'd shared, she now craved that heightened sense of touch. She knew what it was like to reach that release from him and she wanted it again. Just as badly as he wanted it.
"Elena, if you were here," he paused, swallowing against his tight throat. "If you let me, I would make it up to you. I would make it all up to you."
Elena's wobbly exhale caused him to recognize just how desperately he wanted her. If she was any other woman, this would have been where he'd initiated some quick and dirty form of phone sex, but she wasn't. She was Elena. She was the woman he was in love with. The woman who deserved romance and care and time to figure out whether she was ready to accept what he was offering. So despite how much he might desire otherwise, despite how much he would regret it the second he hung up, he knew he had to let her go.
"But, instead, you're going to hang up the phone. You're going to go to sleep and wake up in a few hours and hop on a plane. You're going to go travel the world with Stefan and Caroline and Katherine and show everyone else just how incredible you are. And if you get the chance, you're going to shoot me an email or a picture or two. Because you'll feel bad for that pathetic guy who's in love with you who has nothing to do but feed an obese cat and fight in divorce mediations between conceited rich people. And, if you feel so inclined, once you get back from letting the whole world fall in love with you, you'll give me the chance to make it up to you. To do this the right way."
Damon swallowed, finishing the last of his speech as calmly as he could. He hated the idea of letting her hang up, not knowing when he'd be able to speak to her again. But if this is what he had to do to make up for his bad timing, for his selfish decisions, then he had to do it. He had to love her enough to let her go… or whatever that bullshit was that littered romance movies.
"Damon, there's something I need to tell you."
Damon's chest tightened. Holy shit. She wasn't going to do this. She wasn't going to make this a million times harder for him. She had every right to, of course. Give him a taste of his own medicine. But he wasn't sure he could handle it any better than she had.
"What?"
"Damon, I'm not… I'm not at the hotel."
Elena had continued. Elena had delivered a whole damn speech, one she later told him about. She'd explained how she'd hopped in a cab, shoving a nonsensical amount of money at the driver so that he'd keep his mouth shut about her destination. She'd told Katherine she'd forgotten something at home, driving off regardless when Katherine had understandably objected. She'd explained how she'd arrived at the apartment a few minutes before Damon had, hiding away in her bedroom unable to actually face him. How, when she'd heard him enter, she'd only been able to work up the courage to call him, hoping he would answer, hoping he would reassure her that she'd made the right choice. But Damon heard none of it.
Because the second he knew she wasn't at that hotel, Damon had hung up the phone. The second he realized there was no other place she could be, Damon was ripping himself up off the bed and rushing across the apartment. The second he realized that she was there, that she'd always been right there, and that he'd wasted even a second of his time being away from her, Damon was flinging open her bedroom door.
By the time she was done, Damon was already there.
Eeep :)
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