Elena stuffed yet another pair of identical white socks into the middle drawer of Damon's dresser, then reached down to fold another pair, again trying to keep herself from breathing in the smell of his room greedily.

It's not as if she hadn't been in here since he'd left. Of course she had. In those first few weeks after he left, when Elena kept telling herself he'd show up any day now, she would sneak up here when Stefan went to hunt or when he'd take long showers. At first, she'd just plop down on his bed, face first and grip the sheets, imagining that night which was half awful, half magical when she had clutched his weakened body to hers, wiping the sweat from his brow and then finally kissing him. Other times, she'd venture into his closet and slip on one of the few leather jackets that hung up. Then she'd sink down, bury her face in the smell and try and not think about what she was doing.

But then as more weeks passed, which eventually turned into months, she had slowly stopped coming back. It was just too painful; although most of his possessions had been gone, the room still screamed Damon, and the yearning to have him back here was so strong it made her feel sick.

She remembers one particular night, shortly after her 'habit' had begun to get worse, when she stumbled in here, flying high and feeling emotional. Elena had dug through his drawers until she found a bottle of bourbon, then she had sunk down into the enormous, empty bath tub and chugged it. Then she had started crying, because the taste of the alcohol reminded her of him so much that it caused her to go into hysterics. And that's how Stefan and Caroline found her an hour later; clutching a nearly empty bottle of bourbon with tear tracks staining her cheeks and fingernails digging deeply into her palm. They carried her back to Stefan's room, tucked her into his bed and it was never mentioned again.

Now that she thinks of it, that had been the anniversary of Miss Mystic Falls. She vaguely remembers watching the couples dance, their hands barely touching while Elena tried not to think about what they had looked like dancing. She remembers Stefan looking at her and asking what was wrong, and her sneaking out to her car while he wasn't paying attention.

Elena snapped herself back to the present. At least he was back now; she always knew he'd returned soon. And for whatever reason he was back, she didn't care.

You care, a tiny a voice whispered in her head, you want to be the reason.

Elena jumped up, only to realize that Damon was right behind her, looking pointedly at her. Had she said something out loud?

"You don't have to fold the socks." He finally said, gesturing to the drawer behind her. "They're all the same for a reason, Elena."

He turned around and went back to hanging up clothes, humming under his breath. Elena begged her heart to calm down.

A few moments later, bored with the socks, Elena looked around and spied a laundry basket by the door filled with wrinkled clothes. She walked over to it. "Are these dirty?" She asked, turning back to look at the closet, where she knew he'd hear her.

"Yup."

She picked it up to take it to the washing machine, but he called out after her. "Don't mix the black and whites!"

"You don't have any whites!" She shot back and continued on her way. Once she was down the stairs, she bumped into someone and looked up to find Stefan. Hadn't he gone hunting? Elena looked at the clock; that was nearly two hours ago.

Stefan looked from her to the basket in her arms, with various dark colored cloth in it. "Doing some laundry?" He asked, like he was suspicious. No, actually Stefan me and your brother were upstairs plotting against you to ruin your life, she answered sarcastically in her head, then felt guilty about it and worked to soften her facial features.

"Yeah, I'm just helping Damon unpack and everything." She said cheerfully. "After you bolted from the house I didn't really have anything better to do."

He softened at that. "Sorry, you know Damon just makes me tense." Stefan sighed, "I've gotten so used to him being gone."

She was about to reply when that reminded her of something, and she wondered how to bring it up. Asking Damon about it had been easier; but then again, pretty much everything with him was.

"When I came in earlier, I heard you guys talking." She started, "Damon said something about you not telling me something? I was just wondering what he was talking about."

Stefan blinked, and for a moment, he looked angry. He shot an annoyed look up the stairs, but when he saw Elena's raised eye brow, he deflated. "I probably should've told you a while ago, or when it happened..."

"Told me what?"

He was quiet for a moment, then sighed. "Before Damon left town, before you chose me that night, we made this deal." When she didn't respond, he went on. "The deal was that whoever you didn't choose would... leave town, therefore letting the other be happy. Obviously you know what happened after."

Elena didn't breath, different emotions settling over her rapidly. "Who's idea was it?" She asked quietly.

"Mine." He replied, equally as quiet. Anger settled over her like snow, cold and jolting. Stefan had known how much she missed Damon, yet he never said anything? Like how he was the reason he had left, when the whole time Elena had thought it had been her? Elena set down the laundry basket and headed towards the door, ignoring Stefan when he called out her name. She didn't stop until she was safely in her car, where she calmly swallowed two more pills with a bottle of water and then she pulled out the driveway.

Later that night, Elena lay in her bed, bright lights twinkling around in her mind slowly. When she felt a familiar hand press against her cheek, she thought she was dreaming. She grabbed the hand and pressed it to her lips. Somewhere in her room a breath caught.

"...Elena?"

A voice was abruptly yanking her out of the nice place she was currently at, and she unwillingly blinked her eye open, immediately seeing blue. She jumped a little, startled. "Damon?"

"Hey." He said, looking squarely into her eyes even in the darkened room. Elena could feel him studying her dilated pupils, could hear the question in his head, but again, he didn't comment.

"What are you doing here?" She whispered. He sighed and flopped down on the bed next to her; her skin erupted in goosebumps.

"Stefan wanted me to check on you." He shrugged. Elena narrowed her eyes angrily at the mention of his brother. Damon noticed.

"Look, Elena, you shouldn't be angry at Stefan." He started, turning his head to look at her. "I would have left, anyways. Even if Stefan and I hadn't made the deal, I would have left."

Elena paused, and looked up at the ceiling. She could feel his breath on her shoulder. "Would you have left if I had chosen you?"

"Huh?" He replied, confused.

"If I had chosen you, would you have left town?" She asked, knowing what his answer would be.

"No. Of course not." He replied so quietly she barely heard him. Something in his tone made her insides wilt.

"I don't think you would have either, and I don't think Stefan would have."

Damon didn't reply for a moment, and Elena thought he was dropping it. A minute later though he spoke. "It doesn't matter, because that's not what happened." He finally said.

Sometimes I wish it is, she thought, and didn't even feel guilty about it a moment later.

A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the slight delay. This is kind of a filler chapter, because I felt really stuck on writing the other half of it. Hopefully my inspiration gets flowing soon! Again, thanks for reading guys. Please drop a review off!