Words Unspoken (The Vampire Diaries)

Chapter 11

She sits on my bed, or should I say 'our' bed, to watch one of her princess movies for the millionth time while I am in the bathroom. I haven't taken a shower in a few days and yes, vampires need to fucking bathe too or else they begin to smell like shit, and no way in hell will I allow myself to get that far. And so I quickly shower, scrubbing myself until I come to a squeaky clean finish. I spend most of the time in that room thinking about Elena and that steamy kiss. Why can't I just let myself have her? Why am I fighting?

Could I kiss her and keep my feelings separate? If I cup her cheek, can I promise myself I won't touch her anywhere else? How far can I go before the grave I am digging for myself is too deep to escape? At any moment, I could lose her, find out that her long lost mother wants her back. Any minute, she could decide that her feelings for me are just platonic, nothing more. Then what? I feel so attached, yet if someone broke the wire between us, could I ever truly move on? I keep telling myself that I don't need her, that caring is a vampire's fucking weakness, but I feel alive around her, completely and utterly alive.

Then I have to consider the fact that she is too young, too naive to love me. She would only learn to love a monster. What if our philosophies are too unalike to live in harmony? Her soul is pure, mine is gone altogether. I wish I could just hear it from her lips. I want her to tell me that she only kissed me back out of confusion, maybe even out of pity. There are so many things to consider and I'm just not sure that loving Elena will do anything to benefit either of us. For now, I will make her smile and I'll kiss her and I'll wait for the day she stops my lips and tells me 'no more'.

And so I fucking sigh and throw on some pajama shorts. My fingers push the bathroom door open slowly, and when I look up, Elena doesn't notice me. I stare at her curiously from where I stand, wondering what the hell she is doing on the bed. Her dress is up around her ribs, so that her belly shows. Weird as fuck. I keep watching and realize why. Her fingers are pinching the skin, seeing how much of it she can grab between her thumb and index. I take a step forward and notice the Playboy magazine beside her on the mattress. No, no, no. Do not compare yourself to them, I want to scream to her.

"Elena," I say softly instead.

She finally looks up at me in surprise. Her fingers immediately pull away from her abdomen, nearly throwing her dress down over it. The magazine is still next to her, but she knows that I know. There is no use left in hiding that. When I crawl onto the mattress, she winces slightly and hides her face from me out of embarrassment. She knows she shouldn't be touching my stuff, but I'm not angry with her, not one bit. I pull her into my lap gently and kiss her between the eyebrows.

"You are beautiful, Elena. So, so beautiful," I tell her.

The magazine is already in my hand when she translates my words in her mind. I point to some disgusting slut on one of the pages.

"Bad," I whisper, drawing an X on the page.

Then I rest my hand on Elena's flat abdomen and softly say 'good' in her ear. She smiles at me and nuzzles the column of my throat with her nose. I run my fingers through her hair and tell her over and over that she is good, that she is perfect just as she is. The moment even forces me to admit that I find Elena attractive, that I would rather kiss her lips than some big titted whore with her legs already spread. I'm just sad that she found the magazine. Now she believes that girls like that are what all women should look like, that men only want those qualities. I rip the magazine up right there in front of her, tearing the pages out and shredding them with my fingers. She smiles a little, luckily, and I throw the pieces onto the floor in triumph.

"Daymond happy?" She smirks.

I cup her cheek and stare into those beautiful doe eyes just before I get lost in them, just before I yearn to kiss those lips again. My hands allow her to recline onto her back until she is flat against the mattress. She looks up at me with a genuine grin and unexpectedly begins to laugh. I brush my fingers through her long locks, gazing down at that breathtaking angel with a crooked smirk. My lips press against hers for just a few seconds, but it's all she needs to mumble my name like it's the first time she has seen me in years.