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The wood railing felt cold between his hands. It really wasn’t but again, after being trapped in an ablaze basement, stuff feel colder. The air was soothing. He’d get over it, it wasn’t his first rodeo. But this time, he really thought it was the last.
‘Damon, what are you doing here ?’
Elena was standing on the steps. Good, he was waiting for her.
‘Today is not the day you’re getting rid of me.’
‘I’m not trying to get rid of you, we actively risked everyone’s lives to save you Damon.’
That girl was… everything, but she was not very receptive to his sense of humour.
‘I know. I’m here to thank you.’
He walked towards her. He shouldn’t, he knew that. That’s what he liked about it usually. The look of self-restrained and practiced stoicism on Stephan’s face. The awkwardness of it all. He reveled in that. But as he did it now, he felt more. More of what he’d been feeling lately. Exhilaration and guilt. She smelled nice. Perspiration and perfume. He only smelled of smoke. He thought at least.
‘This isn’t easy for me to say but I wanted to thank you.’
‘I’m not the one you should thank, you should be thanking Bonnie, who sacrificed her beliefs for you, and Stephen, who would die for you and you know it.’
He stepped even closer. She wasn’t moving away. Her face kept lifting up to meet his eyes. Exhilaration, and guilt. But what is some guilt. If you thought of guilt as a debt, then he had a lot of guilt to spare before ever reaching what Stephen owed him. And in the end, this is not about Stephan. It wasn’t ever about him for Stephen and Katherine. No, it is about him. Him, and her.
‘Thank you for finding something in me worth saving.’
She didn’t answer. He could tell it wasn’t for lack of a comeback. It was from lack of concentration. He could see her staring at his face, glancing at his lips. As he, slowly, leaned closer, she did not move. She did not say anything. She just kept starring. And when he leaned so far that his nose brushed hers, she barely even drew a breath. And when he kissed her, at first, she did not move again. But then she did. Her hands found their way on his neck and he was undone. He fought every urge he had to pick her up and throw her on the wall, to unleash all of his crazy on her, but he didn’t, because he thought she probably wouldn’t like that. He thought she probably liked it soft, and thoughtful. So he circled her waist with his hands and he drew her in and he kissed her like he knew how to, and he heard her heavy breaths and silent moans, and he found it even harder to contain himself.
Exhilaration.
She grabbed his hair. Grabbed his shoulder. Grabbed him all around, as if she was trying to find him again and again. It drove him mad. His mouth diverted to kiss her neck. She froze a little.
‘I’m not gonna bite you.’
She didn’t answer.
‘Are you okay ?’
‘I thought you would be…’
‘What ?’
‘Less… contained.’
He chuckled.
‘Less contained ?’
‘I don’t know. I expected you to be wilder.’
The hot mess in his core caught fire at these words.
‘Well allow me to rise to your expectations.’