Thank you once again for the reviews, follows, likes and every way you have engaged with this story. This chapter is very Delena focused, so I hope you enjoy.

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It felt strange, knocking on the boarding house door. It had been months since she had needed to go through the formality; the keys were still sitting heavily in her pocket, but it felt like her right to use them had vanished overnight.

Glancing at her watch as she waited, Elena sighed at the time. She had already lost a great chunk of her day off; she's gone for a longer than usual morning run and sipped her coffee slowly. Avoiding this trip had been her priority for too many days now, even taking up an extra shift to have the excuse of work.

Now she was all out of distractions.

The door swung open, revealing Damon Salvatore with his deep blue shirt completely unbuttoned. If she focused on the shirt and not the view underneath it, she might survive this encounter. Better yet, she could focus on his shoes.

"Good afternoon," she greeted, trying to steady the shake in her voice, "I'm looking for Zach. Is he in?"

She was met by the sound of a sigh, and the shoes she was resolutely staring at moved past the door and out into the entryway as the door closed behind him.

"Why?" He asked, and her eyes betrayed her to glance up at his face as he folded his arms and raised his brows at her, his mouth set in a line.

The admonishment wasn't welcome, and she stood a little taller in deflection of it, "I need to talk to him, Damon, to explain. It isn't fair if I just… that I…" She began to fumble over her words; Zach wasn't the only Salvatore she needed to have an uncomfortable conversation with.

"You don't owe Zach anything, you don't need to talk to him or explain. He made you feel tiny, Elena, remember that." He was getting irate, throwing his hands in the air.

"Right now, he isn't the only one." She snapped back, turning away from him and towards the door.

His hand shot out to grab her arm, but she pulled away at the contact. The last thing she needed right now was the touch of his skin to send sparks flying and turn her brain to mush. She now had first-hand experience of just how good time spent with Damon could be; if she let herself go back there it would be like throwing herself out of a plane with no parachute. It would be one hell of a thrill, but at the end she'd be shattered into smithereens.

Damon Salvatore wasn't the kind of person you fell in love with. Hell, he wasn't exactly a person.

Which was why she had spent the past four days since he had left her bed ignoring every message and call from him, and there had been a few. They'd been in pretty much constant contact for so long that it had felt foreign to not share some moments with him, but she had to pull away.

For her own sanity, and if she were being honest to herself; because it made her feel guilty as sin.

"Elena, wait."

Cursing herself under her breath, she paused and turned before she went through the doorway.

"Come to the founder's ball with me next weekend. I know you'll have to go anyway, and I need a date." He said, before assessing the look on her face and adding, "A friends-only date, I promise."

It was her turn to fold her arms and set him with a hard stare, "Why me, Damon? Don't you have your pick of past conquests to take as arm candy?"

He smirked at her, as over-confident as ever, before casting his eyes down, "I'll need an invite in. If I turn up with a council member, they won't worry about giving me one."

"So, you're using me."

The shrug he gave was at least more honest than an argumentative denial. Elena wanted to say no, to avoid spending any more time than necessary with him. Unfortunately, the next thing he said was, "Please," and the look in his eyes was so damn earnest that she had to accept his invitation.

Today was really not going the way she had planned.

Leaving behind the scantily clad vampire, she entered the house and listened carefully. There was muttering coming from the library, so she headed that way, knocking on the doorframe as she stood in the threshold of the room.

Zach was pacing, an open book in his hands that he was studying intently, reading sections out loud. He stilled at the noise of her knock, turning to her slowly with a look of resignation on his face. Elena could have sworn he'd aged a decade in the days since she'd last seen him.

"Elena," he greeted, "how are you?"

The concern in his voice was unexpected, throwing her for a moment as she fought the instinctive response.

"We should probably talk," she managed eventually, slipping into one of the bowl-shaped armchairs that she had always favoured.

He nodded, somewhat awkwardly sitting across from her, his back too stiffly upright for the chair, his knuckles white as he gripped the now closed book firmly. This was more akin to the reaction she had expected, the familiarity of his anger putting her more at ease.

After a long silence, one where she opened his mouth to speak several times but no words came out, she finally blurted, "I'm here to collect my things."

Zach nodded, "You want it to be over?"

"This isn't about what I want Zach, it's already over. I can't be with someone who tries to murder my friend."

The rage flashed across his eyes at this, the book falling to the floor as he stood, towering over me. "Damon is a menace, he would kill you without a second thought, Elena. Right now he's probably using you for something."

She swallowed at his words, remembering the accusation she had thrown at Damon outside.

"Maybe so. That doesn't mean he deserves to die." She responded, letting her convictions guide her. Ever since she had learnt about vampires, she had been so sure that they deserved life just as much as any human, or any witch.

"Did my grandfather?" He spat back at her, "Damon killed him."

"Have you asked him why?" She responded, feeling like she had finally grown a backbone as she stood up to meet his glare. "He knows he deserves your hate, told me that I shouldn't be mad at you. Perhaps he feels as guilty as you feel angry?"

Zach laughed, "That monster can't feel, Elena, don't be so naive. He's had his emotions switched off my entire life."

"You're wrong." She argued. She'd heard about the vampire humanity switch from Stefan, how they could turn off their humanity, their empathy, at will.

How could Zach possibly think Damon had done that, when the man so clearly wore his heart on his sleeve? He'd been to his mother's grave, visited home on his birthday, he'd been an empathetic listener, a shoulder to cry on.

There was no way he hadn't had his humanity on that night; there'd been too much of a connection. That was why he was so dangerous for her.

Zach was studying her, watching her as she tried to come up with the words to prove him wrong, an ugly grin forming on his face, "You thought he cared for you. I bet you're just another one of the thousands of gullible girls he's lured into bed."

She clearly didn't have as much control over her face as she wanted, her anger and embarrassment must have slipped through as Zach clearly realised that he had hit a nerve.

"You slut!" He roared at her, resuming his pacing with determination as he tossed objects to a side, "You're a whore, how could you think anyone will want you now?"

He was muttering again, this time a string of obscenities as she stood there, frozen. She wasn't sure whether to beg for forgiveness and admit he was right, or whether she should argue that he couldn't possibly be correct. Could Damon have used her? Was it even possible to fake those emotions?

Once again, she felt tiny as she sunk back into the chair, pulling her knees up under her chin as she watched Zach pace, waiting for the storm to calm.

"I thought my father was the last misogynistic, abusive, pile of shit Salvatore, clearly I was wrong." A sarcastic voice echoed across the room.

Her eyes flicked up to see Damon leaning in the doorway, his shirt finally buttoned up but his nostrils flaring with a look of disgust she hadn't seen before.

Faster than her eyes could recognise it, Zach was pinned against a bookcase, his feet half a foot in the air and kicking wildly as his hands tried to pry himself out of Damon's grip.

"Apologise to Elena." Damon sneered at him.

It was clear Zach had no way to get a word out, gurgling as he was. The absurdity of the situation hit Elena, the violence both men were displaying suddenly seemed utterly ridiculous.

"Don't," she said as she made her way out of the room, "Just don't bother me as I'm getting my stuff. Either of you."

It was a few hours later when she let herself back into the apartment, her arms full of the bags she had packed. Unfortunately, Tyler was uncharacteristically in the kitchen. One eyebrow raised in question; he tilted his head as he spotted the bags.

Without a word, he took them off her and placed them into her room before enveloping her in a tight bear hug. It took all her determination to not cry, biting down on her lip instead as he engulfed her.

"You going to be okay?" He asked gently as he returned to cooking, a task he was making look almost impossibly arduous as he fumbled.

She nodded as she took over from him, rolling her eyes at him, "I will be."

As they were eating, he brought up the founder's ball. Carol Lockwood was planning on displaying some heirlooms of the founding families and had tasked him with collecting them. They'd both been raised with these heirlooms, the significance of them passed down through the generations; some of the Gilbert artefacts with more importance than the others.

One, Jeremy's ring, had been passed down the Gilbert main line; both her father and her uncle John had previously worn it. According to the journals, it protected against supernatural death but luckily neither John nor Jeremy had had the need to test it. The council weren't aware of its presence, but they were aware of the pocket watch. Originally, it had been designed as a vampire detector.

"I was going to ask, before you know, today's thing, if you'd be able to persuade one of the Salvatores to lend their collection to the display?"

It was well known that the boarding house held more historical objects than the rest of the founding families possessed put together, the entire house was practically a museum- the one-time Elena had dared to peek into the attic she had been quickly overwhelmed. Zach had always refused to display anything; making the excuse that he was far too busy to organise it. Of course, the real reason was that the owners of the objects were still very much walking the earth.

Tyler was quite clearly using the question to probe a little deeper into the reason she'd appeared this afternoon full of bags, and she couldn't exactly blame him.

"Actually," she responded, "I'm going to attend with Damon Salvatore. Perhaps I can ask him to lend a few things?"

She grinned at Tyler wickedly as his eyebrows shot up. She guessed he was more shocked by the fact she was sharing information than by who she had mentioned, it felt strange to her to be divulging her secrets. On the drive over, though, she had sworn to be more honest with her friends.

As he clocked her grin, he relaxed slightly back into the teasing friendship they'd previously had, "So, Damon Salvatore?"

"We're just friends," She shook her head at him, "mostly."

He chuckled, "Mostly?"

"It's complicated." She sighed.

To her surprise, when he asked if she wanted to talk about it, she did.

The day of the founder's ball came quickly after that, time passing more quickly when she wasn't spending every evening alone either in the boarding house guest room or staring at her fairy lights. Instead, she had been heading to the grill for a game of pool with Matt or playing on the Xbox with Tyler. It turned out she wasn't too bad at shooting people in the head.

She hadn't relented yet and texted Damon, but they had bumped into each other at the grill a few times. As there hadn't been any attacks since June, the council had stopped adding vervain to the drinks recently and he had been taking full advantage. Whilst he'd mostly stayed out of her way, he had made the most of every trip she made to the bar; there was no end to his flirtatious innuendo. Through this limited interaction, she had nevertheless persuaded him to lend a few select items to the display.

He was going to bring them with him to the event, causing stress to Carol Lockwood due to the late timing but presenting him with the perfect opportunity for an invite inside their house. Elena's presence would likely not be needed, but she'd found herself biting her tongue instead of pointing that out to him.

Instead, she was standing in front of the mirror smoothing out her dress and perfecting the way her hair fell from her face. Predicting that Damon would inevitably wear all black, she'd decided to go with a black dress; the back dipping salaciously low whilst the front appeared modest. She spent longer than usual styling her hair and adding a dramatic flair to her eyeliner, constantly reminding herself that she didn't care what Damon thought of her appearance.

There was an honest to God queue to greet the mayor when she arrived at the Lockwood mansion. Elena couldn't help but roll her eyes at the pomp and circumstance; she'd been lucky enough to return to college for most of the formal events of the past four years and had forgotten just how much her town lavished such occasions.

"The last time I attended one of these, I came with Stefan." She whispered conspiratorially to Damon as she found him, standing towards the back of the long line.

Stepping aside to let her in beside him, he winced, "Sounds like a fun evening."

"Did you know he doesn't dance?" She pretended to yawn, "I wasn't even able to drink at the time."

He chuckled to himself, returning them to the silence they had been standing in. It was strangely comfortable, given the circumstances, and Elena had to stop her mind from straying to thoughts of how easy day-to-day life with Damon would be. This was always her downfall; once she saw the good in an attractive guy, she started falling for them. Hell, she was surprised she wasn't suddenly obsessed with Tyler given her track record.

Perhaps she was growing up a little?

Luckily, Tyler himself came to the rescue. Spotting her in the crowd he ducked away from his formal responsibilities with his parents to beckon her over. Grabbing Damon's hand to pull him along, they made it up the steps to the open doors.

"Did you bring them?" Tyler asked her quietly, prompting Damon to give a nod. "Excuse me, mother, Damon has brought an extra piece for the display."

Carol turned once she had greeted the latest couple, gesturing her husband over as Damon fished two jewellery boxes out of the inside pocket of his suit blazer. He handed one to Carol, who opened it, before opening the other and displaying it to her.

"Guiseppe Salvatore's pocket watch, and a pair of earrings belonging to his wife, Lilian." Damon said, "I will need them back tomorrow, of course, both are treasured family heirlooms."

Carol nodded, thanking him, and rushing off to add the offerings to the display, leaving the mayor to invite them in. It was only when she felt the tug of him moving towards the back of the room that she realised he had taken her hand back, giving it a tender squeeze as he stopped below a framed piece of parchment.

"I remember signing that," he whispered in her ear, "it was perhaps the only day father seemed proud."

She frowned at him, "I'm sure you made him proud in many ways, Damon. Stefan said you fought in the war."

He laughed out loud at that, "I guess you could call it that. Though I'm going to need a much stiffer drink if you're going to insist on seeing me in uniform."

At that, he was pulling away and heading to the bar, leaving her standing alone underneath the frame. She focused on it, reading the other names on the list; many of which were familiar from her frequent readings of the Gilbert journals. She knew Damon had been well regarded by the town, if not by Guiseppe.

Surely the face that he had cared enough to disappear from that line of questioning was a sign that he had his humanity on; Zach must be wrong, how could he be faking such weakness?

"I assume you drink champagne?" He asked, handing her a flute as she nodded and took a slight sip.

"This is already so much better than the last time I attended." She smiled at him, softly. "Still no dancing, though."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were wanting to just get close to me." He smirked, his eyebrows wiggling in the annoyingly attractive way he always moved them.

She rolled her eyes, softly slapping him on the chest. Realising the intimacy of the gesture too soon, she almost tripped over her heels stepping back, the corner of her lip nicked by her teeth as she bit it.

"Ask." He said, as he reached out to stabilise her by the elbow. "Whatever it is that has had you watching me out of the corner of your eye for the past thirty minutes, ask."

It was too crowded in this room, so she turned and led him into one of the corridors. She knew the house well, able to pull him into a deserted room.

"Do you have your humanity on?" She blurted, turning to see his reaction as the words left her mouth.

He was ignoring her, fiddling with the dresser and moving drawers around. It was clear he wasn't listening, muttering to himself as he hunted.

"Damon." She said again, her annoyance growing.

"Elena." He snapped back, turning around to her with a glare. Upon seeing her, his stance softened, and he seemed to remember where he was, "Sorry, I just remembered why I needed to come here."

"You needed something?" She asked, as he went back to his searching.

"A crystal pendant." He muttered back, "It belonged to Katherine, and to Emily Bennett."

"Bennett? As in the witch who helped make the Gilbert inventions?"

He frowned at her, clearly not knowing the connection, before a large smile erupted over his face. He pulled his hand back, revealing a large amber coloured pendant.

"Got it! Let's go…" He said, reaching for the door and only pausing when she cleared her throat.

"Zach was right." She sighed, running her hands through her hair, "You've used me to get this, you're probably going to use me to get to Bonnie if that's a Bennett item, and it's clear now that my question about your humanity was completely irrelevant."

His eyes were roaming her face, before they paused and burnt into hers. How could his eyes express pain with such intensity if he had switched it off? Had he had that much practice, he could pretend so clearly?

"Elena." He sighed back, reaching to stroke her ruffled hair. The corners of his mouth turned down as he continued to study her face, stepping closer still until he could place a chaste kiss on her forehead. "I chose to come here with you because you're actually good company. Yes, I needed to come, but I could have found another way. I wanted to spend time with you. Yes, I will need Bonnie's help to get Katherine out, but again I could get that without you."

She shook her head, "That doesn't make sense, Damon."

"Does it have to?" He breathed into her, tucking a finger under her chin and lifting her mouth up to meet his.

Every inch of her was urging her to rise on her toes, to meet his lips. Her pulse was quickening, her eyes closing of their own accord as she went for the kiss. The past few months had taught her one lesson though; she couldn't trust her instincts.

Forcing her eyes open, she pulled back from his touch, "Yes, it does to me. I need to know you care."

His head tilted; his eyes cast down as if he were considering himself.

"Then let's go dance, for now."

Returning to the main room, that was exactly what they did. For hours, he knew every dance they needed, stopping only to ensure she was hydrated and rested. They talked in the pauses about everything imaginable, except Damon's humanity or the crystal he had procured.

Leaving, she was glad they'd spent so long dancing. The champagne had worn off, and she could drive back rather than leaving her car at the mansion. He accompanied her all the way to her car door, a gentleman to the core- at an event like this in any case.

Discarding her heels for a pair of pumps she kept in the car, she set off home. The road allowed time for her to think; to evaluate. It was clear Damon didn't wish to discuss his humanity, but the more time she spent with him the more convinced she was that he could feel. It was so clear to her that he felt pain, anger; she even suspected she'd seen a glimmer of love.

If she had, if he did care, would she have kissed him? One night with a vampire, she could understand. That was a momentary weakness, a moment with a friend. A vampire wasn't so different from anyone else, after all. Multiple nights, a relationship? Where did that end? Where could that possibly end?

Distracted by her thoughts, she didn't see him there until it was too late.

It didn't matter that she'd slammed on her brakes, her car still hit him, flipping into the air as she tried to recognise what on earth had happened.

The world was spinning, and then it was black.

Finally, there was only his voice.