"Wear the blue one," Rebekah throws a blue shirt at Stefan who has been checking himself out in front of the mirror. Stefan turns around when he notices an item of clothing flying over to him in a mirror, and the shirt lands into his hands. He tries to prevent it from crumbling as he eyes it.
"I like the green one," he looks down his body at the green shirt he's already wearing, "You told me it makes my eyes pop," he raises his look and smirks at her.
Rebekah roles her eyes. "Wear the blue one," she squints in his direction, "Trust me on this one," she tries to convince him.
He eyes her, then goes back to eyeing the shirt in his hands, but eventually he shrugs it off and pulls the green shirt off his body to replace it with a blue one. He concludes he likes the blue one more because it's not so tight on his body, but he also decides not to admit it to Rebekah so she wouldn't gloat.
"Perfect," Rebekah exclaims enthusiastically as she claps her hands and gets off his bed to her feet. She walks across the room and loses herself in his closet. "Here," she says happily once she pops out of it, holding a light grey blazer in her hands, "Wear this over the shirt."
Stefan cocks his eyebrow in her direction. She's enjoying this way too much, playing dress up. Then again, Rebekah always had an eye for fashion, except when it comes to her own clothes. Then she's confused as hell. But when it comes to other people, she acts like a true fashion guru.
"I look like a geek," he comments on his appearance while adjusting the collar of his blazer. He looked himself in the mirror, and he had to admit Rebekah really does have a good eye. His blue shirt goes well with his dark jeans, and the light colored blazer makes him look less dark.
"Chicks dig that," Rebekah taps him on the back. "Now," she takes the bottle of hair gel in her hands, "Let me do your hair," she smirks, and he can see her devilish smirk in the mirror. He rolls his eyes as she applies some of the gel on his hair.
"What's going on here?" Damon asks tiredly as he pushes the crooked door of Stefan's bedroom open. He yawns as he watches Rebekah do Stefan's hair. He always yawns, he always sleeps, ever since he came back home.
"Stefan is going on a date," Rebekah says excitedly while pulling her fingers through Stefan's hair, "His first date."
"It's not my first date," he spits out, still rolling his eyes.
Rebekah frowns, pulling onto his hair. "Yes it is."
Stefan raises his eyebrow. "Well, what do you consider as a date?"
"You buy her food, and it has to be outside of the house," Rebekah nods after some thinking.
"It doesn't have to be outside of the house," Damon shakes his head as he leaps on Stefan's bed.
"Okay, it has to be outside of the bed," Rebekah corrects herself, and this time Damon has nothing to add.
Stefan ponders on his answer for quite some time before he says, "Once, me and Katherine had sex in a car and after she craved for a burger so I bought her one. Does that count?"
Rebekah eyes him in disbelief, and Damon bursts into a fists of laughter.
"Wait," Rebekah shakes her head, her eyes closed, "Katherine ate a burger?" she asks in disbelief since Katherine never eats anything that could endanger her perfect weight. Or so she says.
Stefan remembers how he wasn't supposed to tell anybody about that, but he also realizes how Rebekah is not going to tell anyone if he asks her not to. "She says she gets really hungry after sex," Stefan shrugs it off.
"So, my little brother going on his first date," Damon comments while trying to sit up, "At the age of 18," he furrows his brows.
"Please," Stefan snaps at him, "Like you were any better," he rolls his eyes as Rebekah does some final touches to his hair.
Damon chuckles. "Sorry to disappoint you little brother, but back in my days girls wouldn't put out unless they got dinner first," Damon says, which earns him an angry look from Rebekah. She turns her head to him in a hurry, and squints her eyes at him before focusing back on Stefan's hair.
"So, where are you going anyway?" Rebekah asks once she realizes they have never discusses this.
"La Rosa," Stefan smirks.
"That's pretty special," Damon comments with a proud look on his face, "Most guys take their dates to the Grill."
"Well, she's a pretty special girl," Stefan says with a smile on his face, which is followed by Rebekah's loud and long awwww.
"And who is this girl?" Damon asks surprised, left in disbelief because of Stefan's words.
"Elena," he almost sings her name, like it's a melody. It rolls down his lips so gently, like a gentle stream of mild water.
Damon's eyes pop out. "Little Gilbert girl?" he asks confused.
At first, Stefan is surprised by how stunned Damon is by the information, and then he remembers how he talked about Elena in front of his brother, and he realizes Damon's confusion is justified.
"Feelings change, Damon," Stefan says relaxed, like none of it is a big deal.
Rebekah shakes her head, "They don't, they simply become brighter," she comments, but it seems like neither of the Salvatore boys listen to her.
"You said you hate her," Damon furrows his brows, locking his eyes on his brothers reflection in the mirror.
Before Stefan gets a chance to defend himself, a light chuckle escapes Rebekah's throat, "Boys, boys," she hums amused, "Don't you know anything?" The brothers share a look before both of them look at Rebekah. "The only reason why he had thought he hates her is because he was attracted to her and it was confusing him because she's not kind of a girl he usually gets attracted to," she explains like that's so easily to conclude.
Stefan smiles, and for the first time after a long while, he doesn't argue.
It's been two weeks since Stefan asked her out, and since he did, the question has been tugging on her chest, inducing incredible happiness, but also tugging on her brain, creating fear. Why did he ask her out? Why now? Is it because he feels sorry for her? Because he pities her? Because he feels like he has to?
Or because he wants to do it?
She's been in the hospital for a week. She wasn't allowed to leave until her dad comes home. Her friends tried to visit her every day, and surprisingly, so did Stefan. Sometimes he would even bring Rebekah, who really grew on Elena. She was funny and carefree and not at all what she had thought of her before.
She also felt incredibly comfortable in Stefan's presence. Once she relaxed around him she realized he has a power of making her laugh even when she's in pain. He can calm her down when she wants to destroy everything in her eyesight.
After a week of being in the hospital her dad came home and she was ready to leave, even though she was supposed to rest. She was still chained to bed, only in her own room, which was way more comfortable than being chained to a hospital bed. She hated hospitals. They reminded her of death and illness and her mom. Her mom would always smell like hospitals when she came back from her therapies. She had small orange bottles full of pills on her nightstand, the same Elena has now. For pain.
The week after she was ready to start school, and the first day he had seen her there, Stefan had stopped her in the hallway to make preparations. She was surprised he did because, for a moment, she had thought he forgot all about it, or that he doesn't want to do it anymore.
She couldn't be more wrong, though. When she confirmed she's free tonight, a wide, bright smile appeared on his face, and he almost tripped over his own foot while telling her he will pick her up at 7pm in front of her house.
Elena decided to wait for him on the sidewalk because the last thing she wanted is Stefan facing her dad. It's not that her dad had anything against Stefan, he probably barely remembered him from her childhood, but he was a military dad. She was too afraid he will ask Stefan a bunch of personal questions and maybe make him pee in a cup to test him for drugs.
Caroline had offered her services but Elena refused, saying she's perfectly capable of dressing herself. Once she started, she regretted declining Caroline's proposal. She tried an unbelievable amount of outfits before she had finally decided to wear a slightly ruffled black zip up skirt, cotton sky blue top which she tucked into the skirt, and matching black blazer that reached her hips. The top was a little baggy because whenever she wore something tight, the bandage was visible under her clothes. She's getting rid of the damn thing soon, though. She tried to step in her favorite heels, but she was unable to walk in them. Every time she made a step, a slight wave of shockingly distinct pain went through her abdomen. So she settled for her flats.
When she realized what time it is, she grabbed her little chain purse from her desk and rushed downstairs, careful not to wake up her dad who was napping on the couch in the living room. Jeremy will fill him in about her whereabouts once he wakes up. She opened the door and stepped inside on the porch, closing the front door, as silent as possible. When they clicked closed she hissed a silent yes through her teeth.
When she turned around she had noticed Stefan leaning onto his red Porsche. He was wearing his signature smirk on his face, and she smiled right back at him. She had to admit, she always wanted to take a spin in his car, simply because it was shiny and divine and hey, it was a Porsche.
"Nice car," she raises her eyebrow in his direction, eyeing the car behind him, but he doesn't take his look off of her. Once she stands before him, and realizes that without her heels she's way shorter than him, he pulls an ever wider smile.
"What, this old thing?" he taps the top of his car gently, holding her look with his.
She rolls her eyes. She's not frustrated or annoyed with him but she rolls them anyway, simply because it's something she always does in his presence. It's like a reflex.
He lets her look go and his eyes fall on the ground. "You look very nice," he mumbles.
Blush attacks Elena's cheeks, a bucket full of it, and in that moment Elena is thankful his eyes are on the ground. "What, this old thing?" she regains her posture pretty quickly, imitating him.
When he raises his look half of the blush from her cheeks is already gone. The corners of his lips curve into a sweet smile as he opens the door of his car for her.
"You don't look so bad yourself, Salvatore," she smiles at him as she sits in the car. Her ass falls perfectly into the leather seats of his Porsche, and she can feel the leather touching her bare skin. It's so comfortable in there, she has a feeling like she's floating on a cloud.
He opens his door and leaps into a drivers seat, putting the key into a hole and starting the engine. As they start moving along the street, the silence strikes them. Something tightens in her throat when she realizes there's nothing she has to say to him, and her palms become sweaty. She glances at him with a corner of her eyes and catches the same nervous expression on his face.
He turns on the radio.
"I love this song."
"I hate this song."
They say at the same time, which makes them both look at each other. He smiles nervously at her before looking back at the road and she does the same. This only reminds her there's a gap between them. Something missing. Something that kept them apart all these years.
But they never were similar. They always had their differences, even as kids, and back then they were best of friends, even though they liked different things. Maybe because back then it was easier than it is now. Maybe back then even the biggest differences didn't seem as big, and now the smallest ones seem crushing.
She tries to not think about it. She tries to think about what they have in common. She tries to think of a reason why she agreed to go out with him, why she wanted him to ask her out, and why did she laugh at his jokes even when she didn't find them funny.
But the only thing her brain is capable of searching is an answer to why he had asked her out in the first place.
They pass the Grill, but they don't make a stop there. Elena realizes she had assumed they will be going to the Grill since everyone always go on dates in the Grill. She also very well knew she's overdressed for it, it's more of a place for casual outwear, unless there's a party. She hasn't put much thought to where he will be taking her. Maybe they're going to the cinema. Impossible, the cinema is on the other side of the town. Also, they kinda already were in the cinema together, if chaperoning counts. She's not sure it does, but she counts it anyway. Couples usually don't go to the cinema for their first date, not if they're serious about each other. You go to cinema to make out, not to get to know someone better.
Her heart starts jumping when she asks herself is Stefan serious about her since he's not taking her to the cinema? A small smile appears on her lips, a faint, barely noticeable one, but fear also washes over her when the thought of being in a relationship with him instills in her mind. She never thought about Stefan as a boyfriend material, and she asks herself does he know how to be one. Can he be who she expects him to be and can she give him what he wants?
There's too many things on her mind. Things she hadn't think through and she should have before she agreed to this date. Before she started developing feelings for him and lowering her walls down. Before she had let him step back into her life.
"We aren't going to the Grill?" she asks casually, trying to pretend surprise.
He doesn't look at her but a smirk reappears on his face. "The Grill is a little bit dull, don't you think?"
There aren't many hangouts in Mystic Falls, and the Grill is the most popular one, so that's where everyone are going most of the time. So when it comes to a special occasion it can come up as dull.
"Where are we going then?" she frowns when they pass the board which says they're leaving the city.
"La Rosa," Stefan says casually.
Elena sucks a little bit of air through her teeth in a surprise. La Rosa is a restaurant placed few miles outside of the town, at the entrance of the woods. It's very private, and very romantic. It opened only few years ago, and in a small town like like Mystic Falls, it became a big hit among the adults. She knows Alaric takes Jenna there often, and she knows Jenna is amazed by it. By the interior as well as by the food. Teenagers usually don't go there because it's so far away, and because it's so damn expensive.
She furrows her brows. "Isn't that a little bit - "
"Unexpected?" he interrupts her before she gets a chance to finish her sentence. He makes a right turn at the entrance of the woods and they find themselves on the parking lot full of little grey stones. The car trembles as it goes over the little stones and when Stefan finds an empty parking place he stops the car in it and turns to her to say, "Well, now you get to be pleasantly surprised," he smiles at her before he gets out of the car. She follows his lead.
They walk over the parking lot, stones prickling her feet through the thin bottom of her flats. They stand close to each other, but they do not touch. She can feel the warmth of his body, though.
And then, something unexpected happens. She can feel his hand lingering too close to hers, and she sucks some air in her lungs when she feels the tension of his body. Slowly, his finger touches hers, and when she doesn't pull her hand away he takes it as an open invitation and takes her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. She gasps as that small action makes her feel like there's a stormy sea inside of her body, waves crashing onto each other. Her hand is stiff in his but after few moments her fingers relax and she manages to grab onto his hand as tightly as he's grabbing onto hers.
They walk like that towards the entrance without looking at each other, but both of them smile, one before the other.
From the outside, La Rosa looks like one of those cabins in the woods, just a little nicer because there's flowers around the building, nice vanilla colored curtains over the windows, white marble steps and golden staircase handle.
Stefan pushes the front door open and steps aside for her to step inside.
Once she's inside Elena realizes what the whole fuss about this place has been about. The walls from the inside are the same as from the outside - wood. There's a wood of lighter shade on the floor. It would seem cold if there wasn't for the fireplace. The lights are dimmed, which gives a certain romantic feeling to the place. Some slow music is playing, one neither Stefan or Elena recognize. There's a bar in the middle, diving the room in two. On one side there are tables scattered around. Big, nice tables with tablecloths whose color matches the color of the curtains. There are four white leather chairs around each table. On the other side there are boots that vary in size. Some of them are round, with a round table in the middle, and some of them consist of two leather sofas with a square table in the middle.
"Steven?" Elena hears a girl saying his name, gently, sweetly, personally. A surge of jealousy goes through her, a feeling she can't explain, and as much as she wants to let go off his hand, she doesn't.
She turns around and sees a young, perky, blonde Caroline alike standing in front of them, smiling at Stefan like he's the most beautiful think she has ever seen. Well..
Wait, Steven?
She's dressed into a black skirt that covers her knees, white button up shirt, and a waistcoat. Her hair is tied into a tail, and she's wearing glossy nylons and ordinary black heels. All of a sudden Elena feels extremely superior over her because she knows she's dressed better, easier to the eye. Elena looks around the room and realizes the waiters are dressed the same as the girl before them. She probably works here.
"Emily," Stefan says her name through a gasp.
The girl shakes her head like she can't believe who's in front of her eyes. "What are you doing here? When did you get back from France?" a smile on her face still present.
France? What the..? Elena looks at Stefan as his whole body goes stiff.
Stefan clears his throat through a cough. "Few weeks ago," he says silently, and his voice changes. Does his voice always change when he lies? "We have a table reserved."
The girl looks from Stefan to Elena and when her look falls on their joined hands the smile from her face disappears. She stares at them, then she checks Elena out, full body check, and then, she shakes her head. "Of course," she moves behind the table with a book on it and goes through the page, "Salvatore," she says when she finds the name and crosses it off the list. She grabs two menus from the table and smiles at them as she starts moving down the room. "Follow me," she says cheerfully.
They follow her across the room, and as they walk Elena notices a small pool of water, paved with big rocks, and small candles in metal cases on lilies swimming on the top of the water. There's something relaxing about the sight, and Elena forgets everything that has been going on in her mind.
She leads them to one of the smaller boots, and once they settle in she leaves them the menus, smiles one more time and walks away.
The boots are separated by foggy glass for privacy. The leather sofa is almost as comfortable as the seats in Stefan's car, but the tables are bare, unlike the ones on the other side of the room. There are few candles on the table and they smell like rose. There's a window on the wall and through the thin curtain Elena can see the woods. It's dark and scary, not a comforting sight, but at least they're not looking at the road. Elena tries to look as less as she can through the window. She can hear voices in the distance, a slight murmur, but she can't hear what anyone is saying. It's hot in there but she doesn't want to take her blazer off. For some reason she doesn't want to bare her arms in front of him, which is quite silly since he had seen her in her underwear.
"So, how do you know.. Emily, is it?" she can remember the girls name clearly, but she pretends she can't.
"Oh, we - " Stefan stops himself even before he starts explaining, trying to find the right words. But there are no right words.
Elena looks at him confused, waiting for an answer, but when she realizes what he's pointing at, she releases one silent oh.
He wiggles his lips and lowers his look on the table.
"Stefan," she says his name roughly, "I'm not stupid, I know you were with other girls," her words make him raise his look up in surprise, "And I know they're not going to magically disappear just because you're here with me," she picks her menu up from the table and opens it on the drinks section. Her eyes go over the page and she realizes she could go for a glass of wine. Or something stronger.
She wants to drop the subject, she really does, but her damn curiosity doesn't leave her at peace.
"I have to ask, though," she drops the menu back on the table, "France? Steven?"
He swallows. "You really don't want to know."
"Oh, I think I do," she pushes it.
He sighs loudly before he leans on the sofa and puts his hands on the table. He intertwines his fingers as he says, "Fine."
"Sometimes, when we're bored, me and Rebekah drive to the next town," he says likes it's nothing. If he's been doing it for a while, it probably is nothing for him. "And we pretend we're someone else," he says and Elena's eyes widen in surprise. She doesn't say anything, though, she keeps waiting quietly for the rest of the story. "We usually go to this one bar on the main street, sometimes somewhere else, but before we enter we agree on who we are going to be."
"How do you mean who you're going to be?" she asks, clearly interested in the story.
"We come up with a back story. We can be whoever we want to be. Tourists, brother and sister passing by, anything but us. Anything but who we really are."
It may be a little twisted, but she likes it. It's a good way to run away from yourself, your problems, your usual routine and slip into someone else's skin.
"About a year ago I met Emily over there," he looks towards the front of the room. Elena assumes he can see Emily from where he's sitting. She can't since she's looking at the other side. "I was pretending I'm a businessman working for some big company. We came to town to seal a deal. Rebekah already went home with some guy and I - "
"Wait," Elena pauses him, "Isn't Rebekah with Damon?" she asks surprised. She remembers Rebekah's words about Damon and judging by how she talked, there's no chance she would ever cheat on him. She sounded like she's in love with him.
"This was before Damon," he brushes off, "Anyway," he continues, and Elena crosses her arms on her chest, "I met Emily. She fell for the whole thing. One thing went to another," he finds himself unable to say it out loud in front of her. That he had sex with some woman he doesn't even know. That he had to lie to have sex with her. "Afterwards, she asked me when are we going to see each other again, so I told her my company is opening a department in France so I'm leaving in two days, but when I come back I'm going to give her a call," he claps his hands when he finishes the story.
Elena looks at him with shock, but still, she manages to say, "Of course, you haven't, because you're actually a High School student. And now when she has seen you with some other girl," she wanted to finish her sentence with she won't bother you, but she realized she's that other girl.
"I had no idea that she works here," he says.
Of course he hasn't. If he had a slightest idea they wouldn't be here right now.
"That's disgusting," Elena says truthfully since it's the first thing on her mind. Sometimes, words just stumble out of her mouth. She has a tendency to say whatever is on her mind, and sometimes, that's not such a nice quality to possess.
His jaw stiffens and he lowers his look back on the table, and he looks like she had slapped him. Those words coming out of her mouth had hurt him. Even though it is the truth, it is disgusting. A lot of his actions were disgusting. Are disgusting. But somehow, her knowing they were falls down on him more than anyone else knowing them.
He feels like he had disappointed her, and he can't place that feeling or decipher why he feels that way.
"Stefan, what are we doing here?" she asks with a husky voice, and he raises his look to her instantly.
"I thought it would be a nice change," he says.
She shakes her head. "I don't mean the place. I mean what are we doing on this date?"
He looks at her confused, his mind swirling with thoughts, but all of the words seem to escape him.
"Did you ask me out because you felt like you have to, because you pity me?" she asks, the place between her brows slowly closing.
He frowns. "Elena, I asked you on a date because I wanted to, not because I felt like I owe it to you," he says, asking himself why would he owe it to her to ask her on a date but he doesn't find an answer.
"Then what? Are you playing some sort of a game with me too? Do you plan on dragging me to bed and then tomorrow at school acting like you don't even know me?" she asks, her voice losing itself in her throat, the mere possibility of it happening causing pain in her chest.
"Elena, if I wanted sex, I wouldn't call you," he says.
Her lips part a little for a little air to escape between them as she leans back on her seat.
He slaps himself mentally for the words he just said. "I didn't mean it like that," he says, angry at himself, "What I meant it, you're not like that," he wants to say more, how he knows she would never sleep with him on the first date, and how he would never treat her as just a booty call, but he gets lost in his own words, so he huffs annoyed. "My point is, I like you, which is strange because you annoy me half of the time, and for some reason, it turns me on. Which is more strange," he furrows his brows, and she chuckles lightly. That's a good sign. "Every time your words hit one of my nerves it only makes me want you more. But you also have this sweet side which makes me agree with things you say, things I would normally never agree with," his shoulders shudder, "So no, I'm not playing you, and I have no intention of sleeping with you tonight," doesn't mean he doesn't want to, "Because I respect you and every annoying fiber of your being," something fires up in his eyes as he finishes the sentence.
Elena keeps on looking at him with a smile on her face, a smile that only keeps getting wider and wider until she feels like the skin around her lips is going to crack. It's a nice feeling, being liked.
She likes being liked.
„How can you not hate him?" Stefan asks, angrily, mostly still in disbelief.
The rest of their date went well. More than well. Excellent. They tried to avoid talking about the negative things, as well as the future, so they focused on the positive things more. They talked about their friends, shared experiences, pulled few memories out of the well, and most importantly, they laughed.
Elena thought he's going to drive her home after they left the restaurant, but he said there's something he has to show her. He pulled her behind the building, into the woods, and they started walking down the small path. It took them few minutes to reach the other side, and once they did, Elena concluded that the fear of being eaten by wild animals while going through the dark woods was totally worth the sight in front of them.
There was a river which was divided by a thick wall from the land. The stony path was covered with candles. There were lamps which were encircled by flowers, and every now and then there was a bench.
Rebekah heard about this place from her mom, and she had shared the information with Stefan. Just in case he needs a backup plan.
"The guy shot you," Stefan says annoyed, "You have to hate him!" somehow the shooting became the topic of their discussion again.
"He lost someone, probably the most important person in his life," she says sympathetically.
"Everyone lost someone, but not everyone go around shooting people," he makes a statement, and he does have a point.
"Loss and grief can cripple you in more ways than you can imagine," she says, a hint of pain present in her voice, "You feel unexplored feelings and think weird things," she remembers how she felt after her mom died, "And some people are too weak to handle it," she looks up at Stefan.
They're walking down the stony path, fingers of his hand intertwined with fingers of her hand, both of them thinking how surprisingly natural this feels. Them holding hands.
"How do you do that?" he asks.
She frowns. "Do what?" she asks confused.
"Make a point," he remembers how many times he had to silently admit to himself that she's right and he's wrong, "You're always right and it's so annoying," he shakes her head and when his look falls back on her face, he notices a smile on her lips. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asks, but her smile only keeps getting wider, brighter, "Elena, sometimes you make me so – " he never gets to finish his sentence, but a loud urgh escapes his throat.
He detaches his fingers from hers, and moves his hand to her face. He puts the open palms of his hands on each of her cheeks and cups her face, pulling her closer to him until his lips reach hers. And he kisses her.
She's stunned by his actions. One moment it seems like he's annoyed with her, and other he's kissing her. But who cares? He's kissing her and she's kissing him back.
He pushes her against a wall, and she can feels herself sitting on it. He helps her climb up, and his hands fall from her cheeks down her body. First they fall on her ass, but when she twitches he moves them to her hips, his thumb brushing the bottom of her bandage. She throws her hands around his neck, pulling him closer to her, and starts playing with the hair on the back of his neck with her fingertips.
Maybe it's not about the similarities. Maybe it's not about the sharpness of the edges. Maybe we're not supposed to be with someone who has the same taste and opinions and interests, or similar imperfections and traits. Maybe we don't need someone who will nod their head at our every word and let us win and argument every time we fight.
Maybe it's about the differences. Maybe we need someone who has bulges where we have hollows because that's the only way we can fill in what's missing. Maybe it's about shaking heads instead of nodding and maybe it's about the strength of not crying when we lose an argument. Maybe it's all about the challenges and the fights and the tears. Maybe it's about finding someone who is our complete opposite, but at the same time the mirror of our soul.
Maybe it's about this. The kisses that taste like sugar and happiness.
To hell with everything. To hell with insults and arguments and the books he has never read and Neruda's lyrics her will never quote. To hell with his shitty taste in music and the way he makes her blood boil and to hell with his past and all the time they had hurt each other.
To hell with it when his kisses are heavenly and his touches make her skin burn. When he makes her laugh and feel good about herself, when she feels comfortable in his presence and smiles when he smiles.
So to hell with all the times he will call her an idiot and the times she will call him a sex addict, because his kisses taste like rain and cinnamon and Stefan, and his touch leave a mark on her skin that tell she has always been his.
And then, his hands move from her hips to her bare legs, and the feeling shatters. Another one replaces him. Complete ecstasy.
His fingers go under her skirt, and his hands roam on her thighs. Up. Up. Upper.
He detaches his lips from hers, and before she gets a chance to open her eyes, his lips fall on her neck and she concludes she doesn't want to.
Finally, his fingers reach her panties, and she gasps. He smiles against her skin.
His brushes are gentle, and every time he touches her, she gasps.
"I thought you have no intention of having sex with me tonight," she says as she moves her head to a familiar gap between his shoulder and his neck, and her voice makes his skin vibrate. She moves her body a little down on his hand, hoping he doesn't notice.
He notices.
"I don't," he says, making her gasp louder, into his ear, "Doesn't mean I don't want to," he says truthfully.
And then, he stops and pulls his hand away from her panties, as well as his lips from her neck. She's confused, horrified she did something wrong.
"I'm sorry," he says.
What does he have to be sorry for? He can keep doing whatever it is that he was doing.
"I simply do not know how to do this without sex."
She ponders on his statement, but doesn't reach a conclusion.
"Do what?" she asks confused.
"A date."
"You have never been on a date?" she asks surprised.
He wiggles his lips.
She's no expert either, but she's been on few dates.
She jumps from a wall.
"Well, you've been doing pretty well so far," she says, "We were out of the house, you payed for food, pretty much a definition of a first date."
"Is there a difference between the first date and other dates?"
"Well, it's usually a guy who asks a girl on the first date, so he pays," Elena repeats Caroline's words, "But when two people are in a relationship and go on more dates they're supposed to split the bill, or at least they're supposed to argue about who's going to pay until the guy finally pays."
Stefan massages his temples. "Let's make a deal," he says knowing he won't memorize all of these rules, "On our dates, we will skip the arguing part and go straight to me paying the bill."
Elena cocks her eyebrow in his direction. "Our dates? There will be more after tonight?"
"Well, I still haven't felt your boobs."
She smacks him on the shoulder with her open palm. He barely notices it.
"Another rule, no second base until the third date."
"Wait," he says confused, "I thought there's no sex until the third date."
"These are my rules."
"Elena, you just let me feel you - "
"Moment of weakness," she says before he gets a chance to finish the sentence.
"Oh yeah? What if you experience the moment of weakness on our second date as well?"
She ponders on it a little. "I'll watch porn before we leave."
"Can I be present?"
She smacks him again, this time a little lower.
"Frigid cow."
"Sex maniac."
"So, I'm not allowed to touch you?"
"You can hold my hand?"
He reaches down and takes her hand into his.
"It would be my pleasure, Gilbert."
AN: This chapter is a little bit longer. My apologies, I got carried away.