Author's Babble: Shall stick with Elena's POV. I do find what must go through Elijah's mind ot be so very tempting sometimes. I just need not to get distracted by it with this story :P.

Enjoy!

CHAP 8:

Elijah left and I grabbed the navy set of clothes before heading for the ensuite. Standing in front of the mirror, I was reminded of how artists fling their arms wildly at a canvas. Splattering paint randomly. The now crusting blood still didn't really bother me and I wondered if that was normal. It was obvious that it was blood. Not my own, and which had been drunk by Elijah right in front of me. It was insane. But I really just felt like I was covered in food. I wouldn't want to eat it, or drink it. Like ginger, I didn't like it. But it was still food, for someone. Undressing, I deposited my bloodied clothes into the same basket my clothes went into. Now that all the excitement had passed, my hopes of getting out were dashed. Again.

I was starting to think that I should just accept that I was stuck here. The glass was truly bullet-proof, or simply too strong for me to break. The realisation of everything really sank in. Would I be here forever? Sure it wasn't all bad. I was safe from whoever was after me. But I was with Elijah. Who was hell-bent on us becoming something. Though we seemed to be in a truce, it would be interesting to see how long it would last. Just because I'd cared about him when he was hurt, didn't mean I was instantly going to comply with everything he asked of me. I showered until no more stained water ran off me. The blood that had got into my hair was the most stubborn. But there was only a small amount so it didn't take too much work to wash out. The idea of enjoying the shower for a while longer was very appealing. Keeps me away from Elijah. I thought gloomily. But I wasn't naturally inconsiderate, especially when Elijah needed to wash as well. Once dried and dressed, I turbaned my hair with my towel and vacated the area for Elijah.

Walking into the open living area Elijah was cleaning up the blood spatter on the glass. Everywhere else was clean. Clearing my throat to get Elijah's attention he looked toward me. Though he masked it, I noticed him casually taking in my appearance despite keeping his intense gaze on my face.

"Can I keep the towel?" I asked pointing at the towel wrapped around my hair. I paused and pursed my lips. "For now." I finished.

"Certainly." He answered immediately. And finished up the glass while I looked in the fridge. While the air was still freezing I didn't bother with the blanket as it would only be a pain to keep around me while I found myself something to eat. Elijah placed the cleaners away under the sink and threw the bloodied cleaning cloths in the bin. "Now. What would you like for breakfast?" He asked after washing his hands.

"I am capable of feeding myself. You waiting on me hand and foot. Is not going to make me any happier being here with you." I said, as a matter of fact while trying not to be hostile.

"I might like to." Came his honest voice like a confession. I looked at him unimpressed and closed the fridge. He was looking at me like he would appraising a piece of jewellery. Something clicked in the back of my mind and our truce was off.

"If you've been watching me for however long. You would have picked up on the fact that I'm very independent. So regardless of what you like. There will be no special attention catering to my needs thank you. It will only annoy me more. And it will not make me happier to be here. Unless you wish to leave? That way I might just be content to live here." I paused and waited for his reply with my game face on, eyebrows raised. "No? Not taking your fancy?"

"You know I can't leave Elena." The gentlest smirk played across his lips. "There's no doors." He said cavalier.

"Don't be smart. There has to be a door because you got us in here. Unless you had me unconscious while you built the house around us." I said in disdain.

"That may be exactly what I did."

"You're ridiculous!" I said in exasperation and moved to looking in the cupboard. I could still sense him behind me. "Go! Shower, or whatever. I can and will look after myself." I stated. Also promising to myself.

"If you're sure?"

"Positive." I waved my hand shooing him away without looking at him. I sensed that after a minute he was still standing behind me. I turned in a huff to face him. He just smiled at me and headed off to the en suite. When he disappeared from sight into the hallway my manners kicked in. "Will you be eating breakfast?" I called after him, shocked that I'd even offered to sort food out for him as well. Now that the offer had left my mouth I really hoped he wasn't. When Elijah walked back out of the hallway I met his doting look, with a glare. I couldn't tell if the shine to his eyes was in humour or affection.

"I've already eaten." He said teasingly. I felt that he was testing exactly how okay I was with his eating habit.

"I know. I'm referring to, erm, people food."

"No. But thank you for asking." He said softly. Using his deep eyes to convey what my consideration meant to him. I morphed my glare into an ugly look encompassing my whole face. I needed to stop being so polite. He walked off again and I grumbled under my breath while turning back to the cupboard and rummaging through it to see what was for breakfast.

When I sat on a stool to eat my bowl of cereal, out of the corner of my eye I saw the stool I'd hit Elijah with had been replaced. I left my cereal and had a closer look. The edge of the seat had a slight bend in it. Whoops? Sitting back down to eat my cereal I wondered who Michael was. Perhaps he was a house mate who was very interested in design, so Elijah had let him take charge of the house. Where was he now then? Maybe he was also a vampire. If so, then I didn't care that he wasn't around. Because one was more than enough. Maybe he's off entertaining his own captive woman. Perhaps it's a novelty.

After a while Elijah emerged from the hallway. Clean from blood and his hair still damp. He looked so fresh and vibrant, and I wondered if it wasn't just the shower causing it.

"You look better." I said. Stating the obvious. "Practically glowing."

"You're not referring to the completely ridiculous idea of vampire's skin sparkling, like in the Twilight series are you?" I laughed.

"No. I mean like a pregnant woman." I said blandly. Before I realised what I said and stopped talking. It was laughable really. Elijah raised an eyebrow. Did I just say that? I asked myself for confirmation."Uh. I'm not saying that you look preggers." I said before a restrained giggle left my lips. Elijah smirked playfully and advanced slowly towards me. One stride, then another, gliding towards me in slow motion. "But you look, uh." It wasn't the first time I'd noticed. But his movements were really seductive. Especially when he moved that way purposefully. Like now. My face became hot as I tried to find the words I was looking for. Anxiousness set in and my heart beat rapidly inside my chest. Somehow I managed to keep my breathing steady. Despite desperately wanting to move off my stool, I didn't trust myself to pull off the movement required. Keeping my facial features light and trying to convey indifference. Elijah closed in on me.

Three metres, two metres. He stopped within one metre of me and leaned onto the bench with his right forearm as he curved his neck to bring his head right near mine as I looked away. His pants brushed against my leg he was standing that close. I could feel his breath on my face and looked back at his intense eyes and swallowed hard. They were always so intense. Don't you dare give any indication that you find him sexy.

"Though there's nothing wrong with a pregnant woman. I'm not sure if I should be insulted by your comparison of me to one." Came his low murmur. He moved his free arm and placed his hand on my shoulder closest to him. My skin felt over-sensitised. Awaiting any and every touch this man might send my way. I don't want him touching me! I practically screamed at myself. He'll only take it as me giving in to whatever he thinks is between us. I couldn't help the frown that I felt construct itself from my features.

"Well, I didn't mean it that way. I suppose what I mean is that you look healthy. Like I said. Glowing."

"Hmm." His eyes roamed my face, but didn't linger on my lips. Taking in everything before joining our eyes again. The intensity burned and I had to concentrate on appearing like this wasn't bothering me. Despite the fact that it obviously was. "Thank you. Running on a full tank of blood does keep one at his best." I had a feeling that what we were talking about really wasn't important. Elijah only continued it because he'd got himself so close. I swore he looked like he was basking in the moment. "Have you had enough to eat? I can fix you something else."

"What did I say? I can tend to myself. I'm going to have some toast with banana when I'm finished here. And if you try to make it for me I will only throw it out and remake it myself."

"Delicious." he said gravelly. I held my breath unconsciously as his head came closer before he took a step away, only to move in just as close again as if he had a second thought. My heart leapt in my chest as he'd leaned closer and I could have kicked myself when my lips parted in readiness for the contact of his own. I'd thought he was going to kiss me. The disappointment I felt when he didn't was nonsensical. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"You know. For someone of your age, you are very adept at masking your feelings through your facial expressions. An excellent poker face some might say. Any human,would believe anything you conveyed with your expressions. You also seem to have a talent for modelling your voice and your choice of words, so that you can term your conversations in a way which eliminates all suspicion. From the fact that you may mean quite the opposite of what you're saying". He paused.

"Uh. Thank you?" I questioned confused.

"I find it interesting, the truths that can be conveyed by one's body. Especially when the occupying person tries so hard to conceal them. The heart unites vampires with a range of truths. Without modern day analysis equipment specific to the heart, I can sense anyone's heartbeat. No matter what they are trying to conceal. Their facial features may convey absolute confidence. Yet their heart tells of their fear. My vampire senses, and the fact that I've been around for a long time mean that I don't have to rely on the heartbeat alone. Despite you're schooled facial features I can tell when you're lying. When you're struggling with your feelings. It's all there. But it is your heart that speaks volumes." I remained silent, my mouth dry. Where was he going with this? I wondered cautiously. "It's like my own personal song, or an extremely sensitive story. One I can direct, with my mere presence. Like now. Being so close to you." He took hold of my right hand and turned it so my palm faced upwards. In the same instance it was like he secured my eyes on his. I tried to pull my hand away, but his firm grip wouldn't release me. I decided to let him do whatever it was he was planning and he cradled my upturned hand in his left. Then brought his right hand to hover over my palm. "When you're content, the sound of your heartbeat against my ears is smooth as silk. It's rather luxurious. While you slept last night. Once I moved you into the bed. This is what I fell asleep to." He began tapping his index finger in a two-beat rhythm at a speed indicative of my sleeping heartbeat. "When you are fearful for yourself, you're heart beat speeds up and it is rather turbulent. The harshness abrasive on my senses." He sped up the rhythm of his index finger. Each breath I took became deeper and I knew he'd be able to see, or sense my increased respiration. Did he have to indicate different speeds with his fingers? His tapping was sexual without meaning to be. Unless that was his intent? Regardless, it was igniting my senses. The junction of my thighs gently buzzed and I forced myself to think of Elijah's tapping as the beat of a song. Inwardly I thanked him for the reference. "When you are afraid for others it's speed is a little slower, and much smoother. Like a chant or war cry for whoever is in trouble to pull through. Yet it's also solid and strong. As if something that can be held on to. Pulling one through." His tapping slowed. "When you are at war, with yourself. Which may be singular or a combination of fear, anxiety, joy, bliss." He paused. His voice deepened. And his eyes felt as if they jumped right into my soul. I swear it felt like I was slipping. Unable to grasp any mental and emotional security. If I were over dramatic I'd describe it as torturous. "Arousal. You're heartbeat is this." He sped up the tapping of his finger again. "As it is right now. Like the fluttering of butterfly wings. A strong, yet fragile creature. Not unlike yourself. You are strong, have vigor. But you are also incredibly fragile." Despite still being so close I felt like Elijah'd taken a step back as his eyes released mine. He'd stopped tapping my hand, but still cradled my hand in his. I didn't think I could speak, not without my voice shaking. I felt tampered with. Like the walls around me had cracks growing in them. I didn't know how many minutes passed by.

Long enough for Elijah's surveying eyes to gather some additional concern in them. He covered my palm with his right hand encapsulating my hand in both of his. I hated that he knew so much about me. Hated it. And I always had the mentality that I would never hate anything. Thoroughly dislike perhaps. But hatred seemed too severe a way to look at the world. How could I possibly have any privacy if he knew everything? It was a suffocating thought. Finally I forced my vocal chords to produce a sound I could convert into words.

"Please. Like I've asked. Keep your fantasies involving me to yourself." My voice was a soft one-toned and washed out sound. I wanted to be more eloquent. But it wasn't going to happen. Not riught now. Elijah didn't smile. There was no arrogance about him. Nothing that told of his happiness at having a win. He wasn't sombre either. I supposed he didn't expect me to come out fighting after that. Elijah was simply his attentive self. Glad that he'd managed to dislodge me no doubt. But also concerned for my ability to function. That I wouldn't just break from him being so deeply understanding of me, knowing all too much when I'd kept myself locked away behind my facade. He was right. I was fragile. If I were to share myself with somebody and be hurt again. I didn't know how I'd fare.