Title: Miles To Home
Summary: For Elena Gilbert life couldn't be more perfect. She has the perfect life, perfect boyfriend, and headed towards the perfect dream job. Everything is going, well, perfectly. There's just one catch… her twin sister Katherine. When Katherine disrupts Elena's perfect life, she runs away to New York. It was the perfect plan… until she has to return home and face everything she ran away from; including her ex-boyfriend Damon. Based off the amazing trailer of the same name by the extremely talented minds and video editing talents of ElePatro (noralsel) and Caro (_LightToMyDark).
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this work.
A/N: Thank you all so much for response! I hope I can live up to the amazing trailer Ele and Caro created (seriously guise check it out!). This chapter took a little longer than usual because the second half just wasn't fitting correctly. I feel much better with how I finally ended it. Hopefully you do too! Enjoy! xx
"I can't believe we're going to be high school graduates in only a few days!"
My best friend Caroline is doing her damnedest to contain her excitement but it radiates from every single part of her. From the bright toothy smile to the crinkles near her eyes to the skip in her step, she's happy, bright. She's always reminded me of sunshine. Being around her just fills you up with warmth and excitement. She's bubbly and fun and full of energy. It's hard to believe there is ever time when she isn't full of smiles.
I smile at her and link my arm through hers as we make our way through the bustling mall in search of the perfect dress to match our cardinal red graduation gowns. As expected, there hasn't been much luck and at this point we've given up on the idea of matching. Still, both our free arms are full of bags.
"I know!" I reply, tugging her inside Nordstrom, the last store we haven't been in. "It's crazy! Twelve years in the Mystic Falls School System and we're finally free!"
Caroline's eyes go wide as she spots a pair of heels just inside. Despite being told by Mr. Wagner that we girls are better off in flats because we'd be walking over grass and we shouldn't mess up his precious football field. Still, it hadn't stop me from putting aside a pair of nude patent leather heels to wear despite not having a dress, despite his advisement. It's definitely not going to stop Caroline. It's the first time we're both disobeying authority.
But what are they going to do? Suspend us?
Damon must be rubbing off on me.
Caroline holds up a beige pair of shoes with high, thin heel and I can practically see the hearts in her eyes. The toe is pointed and it's all hard angles and height, Caroline will be even more of a knockout than she already is. My best friend already has the looks of a model with her bright blonde hair and effortless natural beachy waves, porcelain skin covering every inch of her tall and thin frame. She's a perfect ten. I watched as clutches the shoe to her chest and closes her blue eyes—no doubt seeing how perfectly they fit into the image in her head.
Yeah, there's a reason we're besties. We both strive for perfection.
After slipping her foot out of her navy flats she eases it into the dream shoe and flails with excitement. "This perfect and comfortable?" she says, taking a few steps. "Sold!"
As she slides back into her own shoes, she grabs hold of the box with the matching shoe in her size and finds a saleswoman to ring them up. I stand back, eyeing a pair of Frye boots and watching my best friend chat up the woman at the register.
She's so smiley and happy and it has me fighting a smile of my own. We've been inseparable since our parents arranged our first play date. Coming from founding families we both grew up with parents who wanted the best for us (aka already planned out our entire lives). That shared understanding linked us together even before our similar interests and bond came into play. It only became stronger when the truth behind Caroline's family life came into view.
I never used to wonder why it was that Caroline used to practically live at my house. I never questioned why every sleepover was at my house or why after school snacks were had in my kitchen. It's just not something you think about when you're little. But later on, when I noticed Caroline withdrawing and losing her bubbly personality, I finally got her to spill.
It was her father, Bill Forbes. Her father used to drink and get violent and she would hide out at my house to escape it all. When her mother was at work she made sure Caroline wasn't home alone with him and on nights when her father was in a bad mood, Caroline slept over. It took Caroline's father to nearly hit Caroline one day when she back talked to him until he finally got his act together. The sight of his only child, his little girl, looking at him scared and hurt and confused, undid him. And after that the reason behind it all came out—or rather he did. Bill Forbes drank because he was hiding the fact that he was gay and not in love with his wife.
He had tried to apologize, tried to get her to understand the personal hell he had put himself through by keeping his true self a secret, but by then it was all too late. Caroline felt sorry for her father for not being able to be who he was but the years of drinking and emotional abuse and near hit had already left Caroline with emotional scars and a pretty severe wall.
Bill was now in New York City with his husband and while he talked to his daughter on the phone every few months, Caroline still hasn't been up to visit. She just can't make herself do it. She's just not ready to face it.
Despite the smile on her face right now I know what lay underneath; a deep distrust of men and a fear of falling in love. A fear of losing herself or finding a man who will feel trapped the way her father had. It left my best friend with the need to keep men at an arm's length. And even though I knew the reason why it didn't stop me from feeling sad for her and hoping that one day she would find a guy who could break down those walls.
Because Caroline deserved someone who made her as happy as a pair of shoes.
"Okay," my best friend said, approaching me with a new bag slung on her arm. "No more distractions! The next purchase for both us is a graduation dress!"
"Agreed!" I say as we both make our way towards the dresses.
Together we peruse rack after rack until finally I see it. My hand runs along the delicate cream crochet overlay and the soft muted pink fabric underneath. It's simple enough to go along with the vibrant color of the cap and gown yet still fancy enough for the occasion and party that follows. As I look over at Caroline to tell her, I see her wearing a face I'm sure matches my own. In her hand is a fitted knee length dress with a floral pattern of yellow and purple flowers that while clashes with their school colors fits Caroline's taste perfectly.
"Did we seriously just both find our dresses in the same store? On the same rack?" I ask incredulously.
Caroline laughs. "See what happens when we're focused."
"You're the one who went into Sephora."
With a sly smile she replies, "Well, we need make up to go with our dress."
"Before we have said dress?" I counter.
"Technically, we still don't have our dresses. We have to try them on!"
Together we make our way to the dressing rooms and both slip inside an individual room. I place my bags down and remove my blue and white daisy dress, slipping it off over my head and hanging it on a nearby hook. After removing the hopeful graduation dress from the hanger and after unzipping it, I bring it down and step into it. Bringing it up my body, I slip my arms inside the sleeveless arms and do my best to zip up the back.
My hands run along the crochet fabric and the intricate patterns it creates. It has a plunging V-neckline and cinches in at my waist and fans out around my hips. As I twirl around in the mirror it fans out and makes me feel like a princess. I'm officially sold but I still have to get the approval from my best friend.
I step out, fixing my long straight hair so that it rests over my shoulders, and spot Caroline. She's standing in front of the three-way full length mirror on a raised platform, turning this way and that and flipping her hair with her hands on her hips. The dress looks stunning on her and fits her like a glove.
"That's it," I say. "That's the dress."
Caroline smiles, mumbling a thank you, and then her eyes widen when she notices me in the mirror. "Look at you! That dress is gorgeous!"
She moves over enough that we can both fit up on the platform and puts her arm around mine. We look at each other and I wonder if she's thinking the same thing I am: we look grown up. Some point in our growing up, we actually did it. We look ready to leave high school behind us and tackle real life. Ready to move on from this small town. Ready to step out from the control of our parents and make some decisions of our own; become our own people.
Though I'm not sure I'm ready to give up my daily dose of my best friend.
"What am I going to do without you next year?" Caroline says, echoing my thoughts and squeezing my shoulder.
I give her a frown because I am going to miss her so much. "Probably the same thing I'll be doing: missing you."
"You in the busy city of New York with Damon and me stuck all alone at Whitmore just a few towns over. I think we know who'll be having more fun."
I reach my arm over and hug her fiercely. Caroline could've truly gone anywhere she wanted—even joined me in New York at NYU—but she wanted to stay close to her mom. And even though I'm going to miss her, I can't fault her for being there for her mom.
"Oh, isn't this sweet," a familiar voice says. "Like you two won't FaceTime and visit each other as much as you can. It's just college."
Caroline and I release each other and face Katherine, who just so happens to be wearing the exact same dress I am. The smirk on her face tells me she finds it amusing that we match. "Why are you in that?" I say.
"We should totally take a photo like this!" she mocks. "Mom would totally die. Remember when she used to make us match for those adorable twin shots."
"And you want to relive that?" I challenge. No one hated those twin shots more than my sister. She hates doing anything my parents say. Hence he self-acclaimed title of the "bad-twin".
Katherine taps her finger against her chin, making her way over to the mirror and checking herself out. "Not particularly. But I'm up for a game of Who Wore It Better."
"It's not exactly your style, Kat," Caroline says. "No black. No leather. No attitude."
"Funny, Blondie."
"Just saying," Caroline shrugs, not even bothering to hide her contempt for my sister.
My best friend has heard enough horror stories from me to know that with Katherine there is always an angle, always a trick up her sleeve. She's been an eye-witness to most of them. Some point in growing up, Katherine and I grew apart. I still to this day am not exactly sure when it happened. Probably some point after I was the first one to walk. All I know is there was a point where Katherine stopped being the closest person in my life and became my biggest enemy.
There's a reason her and Caroline don't get along.
Caroline took my sisters spot.
Katherine makes her way to the mirror, eyeing herself in the dress. She fluffs her tight curls and runs her hands along the sides of her body, studying the way the material clings to her chest, waist and hips before it flares out all the way to her mid-thigh. It looks exactly the same way it does on me, except my chest doesn't fill out quite the way Kat's does. Granted, I'm not wearing a push up bra.
With the dark, smoky make-up on her face, the softness of the dress clashes. It's not my sister. She knows this. But all her faux smiles and dance in front of the mirror is reminding me that if she wanted she could buy this and I'd be forced to start back at square one. I see this confirmed in the smirk she's giving me.
"I think you're right. Too innocent for me." She sashays away from the mirror making her way towards her dressing room at the far end of the room, already unzipping her dress and revealing the black lace bra and underwear underneath. "Perfect dress for sweet Elena. I'm sure Mom will love it."
Her dressing room door closes behind her, and I exhale in relief. Though as I look in mirror at the dress I once believed as perfect, all I can hear are my twin-sisters words screaming back at me. Innocent. Sweet. Perfect. I'm leaving high school the exact same way I entered it. Is that really all I want to be remembered for? Planning the perfect event. Having perfect grades. Being the perfect daughter. Having theperfect life.
Before I can let Katherine's words dig too deep, Caroline speaks. "Don't let her get to you. That dress is gorgeous!"
"You're right." I say, letting my confidence build its way back up. Katherine is always getting under my skin and making me second guess myself. Something about our upcoming graduation just must be messing with my head.
Caroline reaches for her phone that she slipped down the front of her dress and steps off the platform and makes me pose for a photo. After she finishes snapping away I see her fingers quickly tapping on the screen and she only pauses for a few seconds before turning towards me with a bright smile, showing me the screen. The name and response is enough to push aside any doubt I had.
Damon Salvatore: Is my girl fucking beautiful or what? Please tell me she's buying that one…
"See?" Caroline says with a knowing smile on her face. "Damon approves."
It was all I needed.
"You know what lace does to me," Damon growls, his hands moving south.
My hands slide up his bare chest. "It's not lace. It's crochet."
"Semantics."
I giggle as my lips kiss his Adams apple, causing Damon to release a quiet moan. We're sprawled out on his bed with a whole night ahead of us. After Damon's texts for me to rush over after I dropped Caroline off, I was more than happy to. His bed is much bigger than mine; even bigger than a California King. And it leaves plenty of room for… activities.
"Well you see," I say, bringing his hand to brush over the lace of my panties, "Lace is flimsy, easy to tear. Crochet," I continue, my hand cupping him, "is much harder."
Groaning, Damon grunts. "Whatever the fuck it is, it looked hot as hell on you."
"Thank you," I reply, slipping my hand inside his briefs and massaging him.
Damon's mouth covers mine and we lose ourselves to instinct. It isn't long until there isn't a single article of clothing between us and all I can feel is his skin against mine and the feeling of his heartbeat racing along with mine.
I'm straddling him as our bodies move together. Despite the hurry to reach this point, our movements are slow and purposeful. He's hitting me in all the right spots with each movement of his hips. My cries are quiet and swallowed up by his mouth as we kiss lazily. Our bodies are covered in a thin sheen of sweat and were practically stuck together but I couldn't care less. I don't want to stop. I don't want this ever to end. Does it really have to?
I've reached my peak and toppled down it over and over but this time I can feel him chasing it with me. I need him too. Despite my need for this to continue into eternity, I need to feel him pulsing inside of me, hear his sounds as he chases this with me. He's moans are deep and guttural and I feel every vibration of his tone at every nerve ending.
His body falls back against the bed and I let my hips guide us, it's my turn to take control. His one hand gathers up my hair, pulling it tight as his other grips my ass, spurring on the circle of my hips against him. Damon's cursing now, mumbling profanities amongst his praise for my hips, my ass, my chest. It all finishes in a searing kiss that has familiar tautness gathering in my abdomen and shooting out towards my fingers and toes.
It has me going weak, limb-y, and that's when Damon thrusts up one final time. I collapse on top of his and he holds me to him, neither of us ready to end the connection. He releases my hair and massages my scalp, kissing me and telling me how much he loves me.
"How am I ever going to want to go to class with you at home?" I whisper, dancing my fingers along his bicep.
I both feel and hear him sigh. "Home."
My head perks up, resting on his chest so I can stare at him. "Yes. Our home. In New York."
"I know," he teases, tapping my nose. "It just feels good to hear you say it. I haven't felt that in a long time."
"What?" I ask, confused. I ease myself off of him, resting beside him in the nook of his chest and arm.
"Home." My reaction spurs more of his response. "This house is ancient. Passed down from Salvatore to Salvatore. It's dark and dusty. But when my mother was alive it was so bright and full of life. Now it's void of all of it."
My arm wraps around his body and I hug him. "I'm sorry, Damon."
Damon knows so much pain that it's difficult for me to truly relate. I've never really lost anyone. Especially not the way he has. Both my parents are alive and very much invested in my life and well-being. He doesn't have that. Not with the physical loss of his mother and the emotional disconnect of his father.
Still I try to be there for him. I'm capable of feeling that pain for him because the way he feels so deeply makes it hard not to. It's as if I've experienced it myself.
"Our home," he sighs and I can hear his smile in his voice. "Our home will have that life because it'll have you."
"It'll have us," I correct.
"Semantics," he teases.
Just as I'm about to tease him back and start things up again the familiar sound of tires on gravel cause us both to freeze. Damon hops up from the bed and struts to his window. It takes one word from him to know who it is. "Shit."
Still, I have to make sure. "What's wrong?"
"He said he would be out all night with one of his girls. He's never home this early."
I sit up and reach for Damon's shirt at the foot of the bed, putting it on to cover myself. As Damon reaches down to grab his jeans, he throws me my underwear and I slip them on just as he zips up. The anxiety is written all over his features.
Deep down I know it's not me, not because I'm here. Not because of what we've obviously been doing. It all has to do with his strained relationship with his father. Damon and his father Giuseppe have merely tolerated each other since the loss of Lily Salvatore. In the handful of times I have come across him, he merely noticed my presence. I know the reason Damon is all worked up is because his father coming home early means a bad date—if you can call it that—and a bad date means Giuseppe is in a bad mood.
Damon moves to the door. As he reaches for the knob, he turns towards me. "Lock this and don't open it for anyone but me."
I nod as he slips out, letting the door fall close behind him. Once I hear his feet retreating down the hall I make my way to the door and lock it closed like he asked. The only thing to do now is to wait for him to get back. I make my way over to the bed and sit cross-legged as I stare at the door. This isn't the first time I've been at Damon's house while his father's been home but it is the first time that I've had to stay locked up in my boyfriend's room because of it.
The whole situation has me on edge. I can't imagine what Damon's going through downstairs.
Its twenty minutes before Damon finally knocks on the door, letting me know it's him. I stride over and unlock it and open it up for him and he pushes inside, locking it closed. His body is tense, hair disarrayed but no sign that he's been harmed. I hate myself for even considering it. Damon's father may be distant but I don't think he's ever physically hurt Damon. Like Caroline, it's just the emotional pain which can sometimes hurt worse.
My arms reach up for him and he shrugs out of my touch. Very unlike him.
"What's wrong? Is everything okay?"
He lets out a laugh devoid of humor. "No, Elena. Everything is not okay."
"Talk to me. Help me understand."
He steps away from me, hands in his hair—his telltale sign of stress. "Help you understand," he says to me. "How could you possibly understand? You come from this idyllic home with two parents who love you and care about you and have you're whole future planned. I don't even have a parent who cares what I'm up to or how school is going. We live completely different lives. Are we id—?"
My face must be full of hurt because it stops his rant. Damon can only stare at me as his words register. Nothing about how lives have changed in the past year and yet now it's suddenly an issue. Something's wrong. "Damon, what did your father say?"
"Oh, nothing. Just Dear ole' Dad telling me what a screw-up I am. How I'll never amount to anything."
"That's not true," I tell him, reaching for him. This time he lets me touch him. "Doesn't he see how much you've changed? How you're not in trouble anymore? How good your grades are? When we get to New York you could go to college, Damon."
He stares at me. "I'm not a college boy, Elena."
"I-I'm not saying that. I'm just saying you could."
"Don't you start on me, too," Damon says, pulling back from my touch. "Am I not good enough for you either? Do I not fit into your five year plan?"
I'm shaking my head, wanting to go back in time before Giuseppe showed up and ruined our night. How did this all suddenly spin out of control? When did our perfect night get so ruined? "I'm just trying to say you're more than what your father thinks of you."
Damon sighs and makes his way to the edge of his bed, sitting down. His eyes are trained on the floor and his breaths are coming in long, drawn-out breaths. He's trying to calm down. Instead of reaching for him like I want to, I hang back near the door, arms crossed over my chest. I'm very aware that I'm still wearing Damon's Mayday Parade concert tee and nothing else. I'm exposed in more ways than one.
Finally, his eyes meet mine. "I just don't have a plan like you do. I don't have a family like you do."
"And that's okay," I reply, taking a tentative step towards him. "I'm not asking you to."
He nods, accepting this. "I don't know if I'll ever have a plan like you want me to."
I'm taken aback for a second because as much as I love Damon for who he is, I also want him to have a drive and make something of himself. It's too soon to ask this of him now, not when he's just started getting his life on track. But I'm a planner and I want to plan our futures together. I don't want him following me around as I pursue mine. I want him to dream right along with me.
But this isn't what Damon needs from me right now. He needs to know that I love him no matter what. Which despite everything I'm feeling, I do.
"All I know is that I love you."
"And I love you," he replies.
"Then," I say, taking a few more steps so I'm standing in front of him, "that's all we need."
He smiles and wraps his arms around me, pressing his head against my chest. My hands lose themselves in his hair. We stay like that for several minutes, letting Damon's interaction with his father and our fight dissipate from the room. I lock it away, not wanting to think about it.
"Can we go to bed?" he asks, quietly. "I'm drained."
I nod, pushing his head back and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Together we separate and climb into his bed and then find each other once again under the covers. Damon on his back and me tucked into his side with one arm splayed over his chest. No more words are said that night and soon enough Damon falls asleep.
But I'm still wide awake when I hear Giuseppe's footsteps come up the stairs. He pauses in front of Damon's door and I see his shadow blocking the hallway light. Damon's father stays there for several seconds before he continues on, turning off the light and disappearing into this own room down the hall.
It has me wondering if Damon's father is hiding a secret of his own. It's obvious that he's hiding his pain with women in the way Caroline's father drowned himself in alcohol. But something changed tonight. Something that caused him to lash out at Damon.
Damon won't be able to move on with his life until he fixes things with his father and stops feeling neglected by him. He won't be able to become the man I dream he could be until they fix their relationship.
There wasn't any hope of salvaging what had been a perfect night, but there was hope for Damon.
There has to be.