Heyya lovelies! How are you guys doing? Did you miss me? I don't know about you guys, but I sure did miss you. Right now would be a good time to reconsider college. Phew! Anyhoo, I managed to write a few chapters and I'll be posting every week so there's that.
Please forgive me if I haven't responded to your comments or PMs. I'm on it! :)
So let's see, no warnings for this one. It's not a light chapter, but it sure isn't heavy either. So consider this your delayed Thanksgiving present hehe! Hope you all had a wonderful one! Cheers!
Elena stepped out of her long bath and positioned herself in front of the mirror. Her curls were silky and intact. She kept her makeup to a minimum, reserved to a sweep of mascara. Lips could use some gloss. She licked her bottom lip as the memory of Damon kissing her in her room came flooding back with a reflexive rush of heat. She hadn't even been into it at the time, too occupied with getting her hands on the cutter in his back pocket. If a sort of- kiss could do that, she wondered what a full- on kiss could do. She'd find out tonight, she smiled at her reflection.
"No need to be nervous," she told herself while trying on earrings. The first pair was big, loopy, turquoise and tried too hard. She put them aside and tried the pale gold hoops. Better.
She wondered what Damon had in mind. Dinner? A movie? Making out in the woods? She had no idea what Damon's idea of a first date was. Hell, she knew nothing much about him to begin with, but that's why people went on dates, didn't they? To get to know each other? Biblically or otherwise.
She tugged on matchstick jeans, a satin beige camisole and ballet flats. This will have to do. Sucking in a deep breath, she grabbed her coat and made her way downstairs just as Alaric emerged from beneath a mound of papers he was grading.
"Something tells me you aren't going to be dancing in clubs tonight," Alaric stretched lazily. "Any chance we could may be talk?"
Elena did one final check in the drawing room mirror, then opened the front door, conveniently overlooking his presence.
"Really, Elena? Real mature!" Alaric called out, but Elena had already stepped out. "So I screwed up! You still have a curfew!"
Elena's phone beeped indicating a text. Had Ric taken to texting now? Sighing, she opened it.
SNEAKING OUT TO FUCK YOUR GUARDIAN'S BFF? POOR FORM, E.
-M
Elena's phone slipped through her fingers and bounced off the porch. Mason? She stared straight across the street to see if he was watching her and almost jumped out of her skin when Damon's Camaro rolled to the curb. She grabbed her phone and climbed in, slamming the door shut to express her disapproval of his blatant disregard for jail time.
He was wearing dark jeans and a gray sweater shirt and he had a big grin plastered to his face.
Elena was not at all prepared for her reaction to him, but now she was in the verge of going into panic. "Drive!" Elena hissed. "Ric will skewer you like a marshmallow if he comes to know of us."
"Us? Whoa, Elena, that's a lot of pressure on a first date," He seemed amused. "Besides, he'll do worse if you don't fasten your seat belt."
Elena could feel Mason's lingering stare on her skin. He was lurking. "Now."
"She's bossy too," Damon smirked. "Seat belt?"
She fumbled with the seat belt unable to fix it. Damon reached across the console and buckled her up. Being strapped to the seat only increased her panic. No escape. No control. No room to breathe.
"Oh my god, Ric!" Damon yelled.
Elena let out a high- pitched squeal and ducked.
Damon chuckled and stepped on the accelerator. "Got you."
Elena tried to quieten her startled breaths but not before a chocked cry escaped from somewhere deep within her chest.
Damon's smile disappeared. "What's going on?"
Mason was in Mystic Falls. He knew where she lived. Knew what she was up to every moment of every day. He was outside her house this very instant. Her stomach convulsed and she covered her mouth to keep in the scream threatening to escape. Mystic Falls was the only place where she'd ever felt safe- with Ric. Despite their recent feud, she knew she could count on him in the long haul. But not anymore.
"Elena?" Damon pried one of her trembling hands from her knees and squeezed.
A part of her hoped that a truck slammed into her side of the car so she didn't have to face any of this and another part yearned to lean across the brake and bury herself in Damon's lap. Aaron used to hold her like that, but somehow dragging Damon into her private hell wasn't an option. She needed to get it together before he started asking questions she couldn't answer. Wouldn't, for his own good.
Apparently Damon understood. He let her sit in silence, her breaths gradually blending with his.
Minutes later, he pulled into a never- used gravel parking area behind all the trees, near the picnic table and shed next to the farmhouse he and Ric used to sneak out to when their families were outside grilling. He got out of the car and stormed around to her side, hauling her out into his arms. She could hold it no longer than she already had as she burst into tears.
Her sobs got lost in the fistfuls of his sweater shirt which she clutched to her face and made a splotchy mess of with her tears. Crying in front of him was horrible and humiliating and yet, she couldn't help how he always managed to strip her emotions bare.
"No one's going to hurt you," Damon whispered into her ear. "I won't let anyone hurt you."
He lifted her onto the hood of his car and stood between her legs. His hold on her was tender as she sat listening to him murmuring comforting things she'd never been told before in her life.
"Elena..."
She closed her eyes and took in the sound of her name on his lips. She was selfish. Now that she'd felt this, she never wanted to let go. The smouldering heat pouring into her from every part of him replaced the memories of Mason ever touching her.
She wasn't prepared when Damon leaned back to wipe the tears from her cheeks. He pinned her with an intense stare to which her body responded like it was commanded to.
Heart pounding, she wound her arms around his neck.
"Fuck this," Damon cursed.
Elena's breath caught in her throat as he met her mouth in seconds, crushing her lips with his. She should've pulled away, but didn't. She needed this. One selfish moment.
"I'm sorry," Damon growled as his teeth traced a path down her neck. "I'm so sorry."
No, Elena tipped her head back and squeezed her eyes shut, setting free a lone drop of soundless tear. I'm sorry.
Damon ran his hands through her curls as he watched her for several seconds. Finally, he sighed, "Talk to me, Elena. Tell me what happened back there."
The way he was watching her killed her buzz. Like he knew how close to crumbling she still was. "I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget."
"Is everything okay? I mean-" He hesitated, tracing one of the thin scars on the back of her hand. "Is everything as okay as it can be, considering?"
"I haven't." Elena swallowed. "I haven't cut since that night."
Damon flashed one of his special smiles. "Good girl."
Elena had to ask. "Are you doing this because you feel sorry for me?"
Damon scoffed. "I've wanted to do this since the moment I saw you making out with Mr Toy Story. And if it means I can help keep you safe, even better."
Elena blushed. As much as they wanted each other, there were certain lines that they simply couldn't cross- now more than ever. And if she couldn't tell him about Mason, she should at least try to protect him. "Well, if you plan on keeping me, you've got to work a little harder than a picnic on a first date. What are we, fifteen?" She asked as an attempt at distraction.
"One of us was last year," Damon teased. "But, the date isn't over yet. Come on." Selfish moment over.
He saw the look of surprise in Elena's eyes when he opened the farmhouse door and set off the pair of ominously cheerful wind chimes hanging above the door.
"Uhm, Damon?" Elena looked around at the cloaked furniture in confusion. "What is this place?"
Damon crossed over to what looked like a counter with a display case. Behind the counter, a corridor led to a cosy kitchen. "My restaurant."
Elena stared at him in awe. His restaurant? She could suddenly see it now. The display case. The kitchen. He was in the process of converting the farmhouse into a bistro. "Oh my god," she whispered under her breath.
Damon grinned and gestured her to follow him as he wandered into a small dining room. A cheery fire snapped and popped in a stone fireplace illuminating the round two seated centre table. Adorning the table was a tall bottle of Merlot and a bowl of dark burgundy roses . They were so dark she could swear they'd pass for black.
Elena moved closer to the table so she could touch the roses. The upturned bloom seemed to lure her in, begging to be stroked. Damon beat her to it, snagging a single rose from beneath her fingertips.
He lifted it and allowed the cool, silky petals to caress her cheek. It made her shiver. "Stop it, Damon," she murmured, stepping back. His heated gaze was her undoing, but what about those lines that couldn't be crossed? She looked away.
He didn't stop. He used the soft petals to outline the other side of her face, urging her to look at him. Elena automatically took a deep breath, the scent further intoxicating her.
Damon inched closer every time she stepped back and soon she felt her back against the table. "Damon, please," She moaned as she gripped the edge of the table for support. He wasn't even touching her for god's sake and she was already a hot mess.
"Please what?" He moved the rose so the petals touched her lips. "What do you want, Elena?"
"I want- I want to-"
"Mm?"
"Eat," She looked away. "Let's eat."
Damon's mouth curved up into a sly smile. "Sure that's what you want?"
Elena nodded sincerely.
Damon had already prepared dinner and left it on the stove. The smell of cold bolognese made Elena's stomach growl. Damon picked up the sharpest knife from the rack and spun it, handle pointing toward her. "Come here. I'll teach you how to make salads."
Without a word, Elena moved beside him. He slid the cutting board in front of her.
"First," He said, coming behind her and placing his hands on the counter, just outside of hers, "Choose your cherry tomatoes." He dipped his head so his mouth was at her ear. His breath was warm, tickling her neck. "Juicy works. Now pick up the knife."
"Does the chef always stand this close?" Elena asked, pretty sure that the proximity was deliberate.
"When he's revealing culinary secrets, yes. Especially when he doesn't trust you with a blade."
Elena's mouth fell open, "Ouch."
"Now hold it like you mean it."
"I am."
"Good." Stepping back, he gave her a twice- over, seemingly scrutinizing her outfit- his eyes shifted up and down, here and there. She saw a big smirk of approval. Damn it, he was making this harder than it was. "Cooking isn't taught. It's inherent. You've either got it or you don't."
"You don't talk much about your father," Elena tried to focus on the task at hand instead of his wandering stare.
"Not much to say about the man," Damon passed the lettuce, olives and basil.
"Come on, I can sense daddy issues from ten miles away."
Damon made a deep sound she couldn't decipher and grinned as he sprinkled the salad with Oregano and parsley. "Seasoning is everything."
"Don't do that, Damon. Don't deflect." Elena picked up the bowl of salad. "I want to hear everything over dinner."
"How about a trade?" Damon gave her a mysterious smile as he set the table.
"Let me guess. A family secret for a kiss?" Elena settled into her chair.
"Nope," Damon sat facing her and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "Your jacket."
Elena rolled up a forkful of the pasta. She gazed at him and bit her lip. "You want my jacket?" Then very slowly, she put the fork in her mouth and closed her lips around it. "Mhmm."
Damon gave a soft shake of his head. "I want it off."
Elena swallowed. He had already seen her naked granted he was a bit occupied with the blood on the bathroom floor, but he had seen her no doubt. What was his game? "Deal."
Damon took a sip of his Merlot. "My father was born into a rich Italian family in Connecticut. His parents died in a car crash when he was my age and he inherited his dad's company. They manufactured electroless nickel, the stuff they use to coat automotive differentials, hard drives. He was supposed to take over right after grad school as he was the only son and he did for about three years around the time when he met my mother. Her names was Mary and she was French. She was beautiful, kind and compassionate- a stewardess. And I was born soon after.
"But the man was rather passionate. He knew he wanted to be a chef and so he sold the damn company. Made more money than god, started his own food chain. I wouldn't know much about him close up and personal since the guy was such a workaholic. I do vividly remember the bits my mom told me though. The happiest memories of my childhood were ones I spent with Ric to be honest. Good thing my father was bffs with Mike."
Elena smiled at that.
"I was nine when I first walked in on my father screwing this woman, Adelaide. He was twice as old as her and the bastard didn't seem the tiniest bit ashamed."
Elena stopped eating, her appetite having vanished not surprisingly. "Did your mom-?"
"Find out the dick was cheating on her? She figured it out when I ran to her crying," He scoffed bitterly. "I can't forget that night for a second or the way she struggled to keep her emotions in check until she made sure I was asleep. That was the night my life took a full- scale lap." Damon paused to take a huge swig of the wine and continued. "I got so used to my mom kissing me awake every morning that I overslept when she didn't. When I woke up, the house was filled with guests. I thought the man was hosting one of his usual parties until one of the maids- oh yes, we had maids- informed me that my mom had OD'd."
Elena bent forward to take his hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Yea, well, that was a long time ago," Damon drew his hand away. "Ric got me out of it eventually. Stefan was two years old at the time and hardly remembered her, so he was of no help."
Ah, Ric again. "Okay," Elena said, peeling off her jean jacket and tossing it at him. "Go on."
Damon's eyes widened infinitesimally, sparkling with uncontained lust as he examined her lace trimmed satin camisole. "Nice," He shifted in his seat.
"Wait," Elena frowned. "What about your stepmother? Is Adelaide you stepmo- no, hell no! Is she?"
"I'm glad you find my sob story exciting," Damon rolled his eyes.
"You're not fighting fair." Elena wanted to know if what he'd said the previous night about his stepmother was true.
"What are the stakes?" Damon asked playfully.
Oh boy. "What do you want?"
Their eyes locked and the tiniest smirk surfaced on his lips. "Your top comes off."
Elena folded her arms across her chest and took a deep breath as she leaned back.
"Scared?" He murmured.
"No."
"Liar."
Her pulse quickened. "I'm not scared of you."
"No?"
"May be it's just that I'm scared of... of-" She cursed herself for even beginning the sentence. What was she supposed to say now? Scared of the fact that we'd never be a normal couple? Scare that my rapist- slash- stalker might expose us? Scared that if Ric found out, he'd never forgive us? Scared that you'd soon grow sick of my intimacy issues and decide that I'm not worth it? "I'm scared of-"
"Falling for me?"
Relieved that she didn't have to finish her own sentence, she distractedly answered, "Yes." She realized a bit late what she'd confessed. "I mean, no! Definitely no. That was not what I was trying to say!"
Damon laughed softly. "Right back atcha'."
"And he just remarried? You didn't have a say in it?" Elena asked as Damon sped forward, zooming past the familiar houses. A part of her wished he'd slow down so she could savour her time with him. After all, she had to deal with Mason when she got home.
"As if," Damon said. "Can't really blame him though. You should see her boobs."
"Do I even have to tell you what's wrong with that statement?"
Damon rolled his eyes. "Essie always knew I'd show up with my overnight bag at least twice a week."
Elena noticed the tone of affection in his voice when he spoke about Ric's mother. Frankly, she was yet to develop such firsthand affections toward the woman herself.
"She's still my stepmother. I even got a half brother out of it. Speaks volumes about the man, doesn't it?"
Elena desperately tried not to picture a twelve year old Damon being touched inappropriately by some Mrs. Robinson.
"Anyway, I got the last laugh... money and my freedom." Damon stopped the car at the end of the street. "Time to settle up." He eyed her camisole.
"We never agreed on a trade," Elena squirmed as the seat belt brushed her breasts. "I mean I never-"
Before she could finish, Damon yanked her sleeve down past her wrist, covering her hand with it. Just as quickly, he did the same thing with the other sleeve. He held the straps together, her hands captured. Her mouth opened in protest.
He reached for the lever to lower the seat and Elena fell backward. "Damon-" she began, but all thought vanished the moment he crept on top of her. Within seconds, Damon's tongue was exploring her mouth. His hands were in places she'd never thought could elicit such drawn out pleasure. His scent, which was all cedar, leather and wood, overwhelmed her.
"You're the most beautiful girl I've met," He whispered between kisses.
"Damon, we can't," Elena said, panting. "You should go. You should definitely go."
"Go here?" His mouth was on her shoulder. "Or here?" He moved down her neck.
Elena was close to succumbing as Damon's mouth roamed south, kissing her breasts, sucking on her skin. Suddenly her cell phone rang, making her jump at the sound of it.
Damon slowly slid a hand into her back pocket, sending tingling sensations all through her body. "Phone?" His mouth curved in a mischievous smile.
"Elena Gilbert!" Ric fumed on the line. Damon had answered the call!
"Oh god, Ric!" Elena breathed. "Can I call you back?"
"What's going on?" His voice immediately turned wary. "It's ten minutes past your curfew."
"I'll be there in five!" Elena shut the phone. "I hate you."
"Good night to you too," Damon chuckled as he unbound her from the many restraints. "Killer first date."
Possibly their last one. Elena got out of the car and shrugged into her jacket. "That it was."
"I'm crashing at the farmhouse tonight."
"Oh." Elena felt a sharp pang of disappointment. She told herself that this was a good thing. She'd need some time for damage control, which would most certainly include putting bars on her windows.
Elena double checked under every furniture, over every attic and inside every closet to make sure Mason wasn't holed up. She shut every last window and locked all the doors before she went to bed only to find a black tiffany box resting on her pillow. Damon.
In spite of the worry she felt about Mason, she picked up the small, exquisitely wrapped box. She opened the box to discover a delicate necklace of silver or platinum or white gold? She had no idea, but it was absolutely enchanting. Attached to it was a single crystal as blue as summer skies, entwined with flowers embedded with powdery white stones. A tiny gift card dangled from it.
TO MY WARRIOR PRINCESS.
Elena felt a fiery blush work its way up her face.
So what did you guys think? Good date? Disaster? Did you think Elena was too wound up or Damon was too pushy? Who do you think M is? Mason? Aaron? Ah, let me know how you liked your present! I'll post again soon. Love you all! :*