AN: Hola! Thank you so much for all the love! Please leave a review! I'm such a happy camper about the season finale! Yay I got some of the things i wanted! Pretty shocked by the whole Stefan mess though. Anyway, give the song whose lyrics i used a listen. It's really good. And enjoy all!

Chapter 12

I wish I was mad
Fucked up and done
I wish I was bad
And completely wrong

I wish I was made
Rebuilt-up and fake
I wish I could lie
And never could fail

And live some beautiful days
In a magical place
Beautiful loves
Perfect and straight
Beautiful days
In a magical place
A new dream is born
The new freaks have come

Beautiful Days by Venus

Damons POV

My brother is still standing in my bedroom as I rifle around in my closet. Layla is in her room going through her own closet. I can hear her speaking to Elena in a hushed tone; like she thinks that will stop my acute sense of hearing.

I pull my t shirt over my head and grab a black button up. I turn to face Stefan as I do my buttons up.

"Where are we going anyway?" He shrugs and walks towards me. "Why the hell did you invite us if you don't even have any real plans? You said dress for a nice dinner."

He starts going through my shirts. I want to yell at him to get his grubby hands off my nice things.

"Do you really not own anything but black and gray?" My eyes roll and I snatch a shirt out of his hand.

"Why are you still here anyway? Shouldn't you be changing out of your hoodie? You dress like you're thirteen Stef." He's looking at me strangely, quizzically. "What the fuck is your problem?" He lets out one of his moody broody sighs.

"I want you to come out with us so I can keep an eye on you. You're notorious for screwing things up brother. Maybe if you can just come have a normal date night with Elena and I you'll see that being with Layla is a good idea and you wont start second guessing and over thinking everything." Nine times out of ten the shit that comes out of his mouth makes me want to stake him. How did we get a long so well when we were alive?

"Thanks for the concern, dick. For the first time in my life I might have a real chance at happiness and you think I'm going to fuck it up this fast?" My brother looks apologetic. He takes a step forward and puts his hands on my shoulders. Oh great, he's going to say something brotherly and nice isn't he?

"I don't think you're going to mess things up on purpose Damon. But I'm sure you're scared and when you get scared you don't think, you just act. I just want to show you that you're lucky to have someone like Layla. I want you to be happy." He really belongs in one of the Bronte sisters novels, he's so damn sensitive. Was I ever like this?

"Whatever. Go get dressed, wear something that doesn't make you look like you're going through puberty." At least he realizes I'm dismissing him, he leaves my room.

Stefan doesn't have to tell me how lucky I am to have her, I know. I'm lucky that anyone has feelings for me at all. I'm used to women fawning over me; it's been like that my whole life. Tons of women lust after me, throw themselves at me, offer themselves up. It's nothing new. But this, this feeling of someone genuinely caring about me, it's foreign. And the fact that I reciprocate the feelings is even more foreign. I want to shower her with pretty words and gifts. I want to worship at her feet and tie her to my bed. But most of all I want to beg her to not destroy me. I want her to love me. All I've ever wanted is for someone to love me. It's pathetic that someone like me could want something like that so badly.

I'm looking in my mirror combing my hair when I hear the click of high heels behind me.

"You ready yet?"

Jesus Christ, did she always have to look so tempting? Layla is standing there in a long sleeved black lace dress. Its form fitting and looks beautiful on her. It's short and tight enough to have me straining against my pants. She lets out a giggle and does a spin. The back is open and reveals her creamy pale skin. Damn this woman and her great ass. Her heels are black with a shiny silver band wrapping around her ankle.

"It's rude to stare, you know?" She repeats the words I had said to Elena earlier that day back to me an amused tone. I smirk and saunter towards her.

"I think it would be rude not to stare when you look this good." I kiss the side of her neck that's exposed to me. Her hair is wavy and pulled over one shoulder. She shivers when I lazily trace my fingers down her exposed back.

A thought comes to me as I'm kissing her neck. She looks at me questioningly as I walk away from her and start digging through one of my drawers. I pull out an old wooden box. Layla stands quietly behind me. I pull out what I was looking for and put the box safely back in the drawer. I motion for Layla to turn around. I put the simple diamond choker around her neck and clasp it shut. She walks over to the mirror and traces the necklace admiringly.

"Damon, it's beautiful. I don't know if I can accept this, it looks expensive." I place a kiss on her shoulder.

"It's one of the only things I have of my mothers. She'd want me to give it to you." Her eyes open wide with surprise. She turns away from the mirror and looks at me warmly. Her eyes are just like the emeralds on her bracelet.

"Thank you so much." She runs her hands through my hair and kisses me sweetly.

I pull her small body flush against mine and kiss her more deeply. A sound escapes her that has my fangs threatening to descend. I want to bit her and fuck her into next week. I want her screaming my name. My hands drop low and squeeze her ass before I lift her up onto my bathroom counter. Her tight dress rides up to reveal her black lace thong. My pants are suddenly beyond tight. I vaguely remember us talking about taking it slow in the shower this morning. The memory of her scared face is like a splash of cold water. I step away from her and take an unnecessary deep breath.

She's flushed, chest heaving. Her appearance and obvious arousal does nothing for my own. A throat clears behind me. How did I not hear someone come in here?

Of course it's Stefan behind us, being creepy as usual. At least my brother is much better dressed now. Elena looks good as usual too.

"I'm driving." I push past Stefan and grab my keys. I hear Layla jump off the counter and laugh with Elena. Those two get a long way too well.

The girls decided on Italian food after twenty minutes of useless conversation. I drive us to a nice place outside of town. I've only ever been here once myself. It's dim and cozy. The walls are a deep red. Candles grace all of the tables.

The waitress seats us with an appreciative long look at me. Doesn't she notice the woman on my arm and how she's a million times more attractive than she is?

I order us two bottles of Moscato, it's Layla's favorite. I prefer red wine but tonight it's ladies choice. Both women order chicken parmesan. I go for angel hair past in a vodka sauce. Stef get's veal with a side of penne. This all feels so oddly normal. We must look like any other table table of people in here.

A sharp pain in my shin snaps me out of my thoughts. Layla is grinning across the table from me. This time she runs her foot up the inside of my leg rather than kicking me. I smirk and run an appreciative hand over her leg. She pulls away and I take a bite of my pasta. I suppose I should actually focus on the conversation going on.

"What kind of job are you looking for exactly?" Elena sounds honestly interested as she looks at her friend beside her.

"I taught at a dance studio in my old town." I didn't know this about her. She looked graceful and at peace when she was dancing in the living room the other night.

"Oh wow. You dance? There's no studio in Mystic Falls." Layla looks a little dejected at that.

"I guess I could always work at the Grill." I scoff and shake my head.

"I don't think so princess. No way in hell are you working around skeezy, gropey drunk guys." Stefan laughs next to me.

"Yea that's probably a bad idea. Damon already killed one guy for touching you, no need to egg him on and raise his body count." I glare openly at my brother.

"You should open your own studio Layla. I'd take your class, I'm sure Care would too." Layla smiles but it doesn't touch her eyes.

"I have no idea how to run a business or anything."

"That's why you hire someone to do all the technical shit. It's actually not a bad idea." If she's determined to get a job she might as well do something she enjoys.

"That would cost a lot of money. I need to buy a house still." All of our eyes roll, her face is comically confused.

"You have a home with us for as long as you want it. You and Damon sleep together most nights anyway, what's the point in your own place?" I grin at my brothers true statement.

"I'll think about it. It would be nice to have my own studio."

The girls split a large piece of tiramisu while my brother and i order a couple of bourbons.

Stefan is looking at Layla thoughtfully before a small smile graces his lips.

"That necklace looks lovely on you. I'm glad Damon finally found someone to give it to." My dates eyes light up and a glorious smile lights up her face. I think she took that as approval from my brother.

"Thank you Stefan."

We leave a few minutes later, leaving a more than generous tip. I drop Stefan and Elena off at her house and drive Layla and I back home.

She bounds into the house and up the stairs so fast I wonder for a moment if she's turned into a vampire without my knowing.

I unbutton my shirt and fold it neatly after I take it off, I'm kind of a neat freak. I set the shirt on the arm of the couch. I really do hate clothing. If I didn't live with my brother I'd probably be naked the majority of the time.

I turn to poke at the fire that I started when I came inside. I hear Layla skip down the stairs and soon she's wrapping her arms around my torso. I feel silk and skin, an all too tempting combination. I face her and am yet again stunned by her beauty.

She's wearing a black silk nighty that barely covers her ass, it has a v neck that leaves nothing to the imagination. Thank God for Victoria Secret. Although if it were up to me she'd be in satin and silk for somewhere overseas with price tags higher than all of the things she owns combines.

"You're just trying to make this slow thing impossible aren't you? I think you like teasing me." She smiles coyly and pulls me to sit with her.

I wrap her in my arms as she snuggles against me. My dead heart seems to skip a beat. I still want to reign these feelings in. I've always cared too much when I do manage to care. I could be really great to Layla, and she deserves it, but I'm scared to do that. I don't want to be vulnerable to any pain.

"I think it's you that's teasing me. Walking around shirtless, wearing those impossibly low rise jeans. It should be criminal to look like you do." I smile against her hair. Hundreds of people have told me how attractive I am but none of them mattered. Hearing her say it is a whole new experience, it makes me…happy.

"Did you have a good time double dating like we're in high school?" She elbows me lightly in the ribs.

"I had a wonderful time Mr. Salvatore, thank you." Something about her calling me that has all my blood rushing straight to my dick.

"I had a lovely evening as well Ms. Aston. Perhaps you'll allow me to take you out again sometime soon." She laughs and lays her head against my chest. She's absently tracing shapes on my skin. I wonder how different my life would have been had Layla been born when I was alive. Would I have courted her and married her, had a few children? Would she have liked me then?

"I know our relationship is pretty odd, and all of this is new to you and to me too but I have to tell you something." I comb my fingers through her long hair. She takes my silence as her cue to continue.

"I'm really happy Damon. You make me really happy." She looks up from her place on my chest and stares at me with her big green eyes with such sincerity that I'm left a little breathless. I'm stricken by the fact that there's no way I deserve this woman.

Layla reaches up and cups my cheek in her hand. "I'm so glad you're giving me a chance Damon." Every possibility of me making a sarcastic remark dissolves the more she speaks. It should be me saying all of these things to her but the words are stuck in my throat.

I'm about to swallow my pride and tell her exactly how much she means to me when her phone rings. She huffs and reaches for it on the arm of the couch.

The number isn't something saved in her contact. Her whole posture is suddenly rigid. Her face is extremely pale, her eyes wide.

"What's wrong? Who is it?" Her mouth opens and closes a few times before words actually escape.

"It's my mothers old number."