fter getting home from the Grille, her thighs ached but there was a radiant smile on her face. Her cheeks were flushed and the nagging feeling of the thirst for more of Klaus' blood wasn't that present.
(So what if she was a wittle drunk? She enjoyed herself and that was all that mattered to her anymore, really.)
She stepped through her door and mentally sighed, knowing she'll need to sign the house over to Jeremy soon. It was way too dangerous for their home to be so easy to enter.
Clicking her tongue rapidly against the roof of her mouth, she realized she could still taste Klaus. The salty and citrusy essence of his skin made her nerves tingle and she released a sigh, knowing she didn't regret them hooking-up twice now. Technically, she wasn't exactly doing anything wrong. Stefan hooked-up with Rebekah once upon a time and so did Damon, so he shouldn't be surprised.
(Speaking of.)
A throat being cleared in her living room made her skin crawl. She could see that sarcastic smirk slowly building up on his face and his eyes filled with rage as he sniffed the air and looked her body up and down. Scared, she shied away from his gaze but put on a brave face.
"What do you want, Damon? I need some sleep."
"Well obviously." He snapped back and stood up, advancing towards her. "Tell me, how much did he get you to drink?"
Elena growled and pushed him off. "I'm perfectly fine of taking care of myself, thank you very much. You know, you're not the only one allowed to enjoy some Original Sex, Damon."
Damon snorted and pointed a finger at her. "I played Rebekah. You know that. And you're definitely not playing. You want him without a secret agenda."
"And? You still slept with her, numerous times."
Damon took another few steps forward and grabbed her hands, pulling her to him. "Please, tell me that you don't actually want him that way. Tell me it's because he's compelling you. Please."
She watched how his eyes looked sorrowful and nervous, the unique sparkle making his eyes reflect against the light. She saw his lips tremble as he pressed their foreheads together. His lips were so close to her that all she had to do was reach forward and she'd be home. Finally.
(But she couldn't, she knew that.)
"Damon, you need to leave." She spoke the words so lowly she could barely hear them for herself. Damon's breath escaped him and lone tears appeared by his blue eyes. She was crying too, she realized. "Damon, please."
He pressed his lips together and stepped away from her, disappearing. The soft click of her front door informed her of his depart.
She swayed in her spot and clutched the doorframe for support, her legs collapsing beneath her weight. The hard lump that had managed to gather in her throat set itself free and she released ugly sobs, hating that they sounded throughout the entire house. Elena gasped for air and clutched her throat, her vision dissolving as she realized what she had just done. She let Damon go, once and for all.
At the realization, she clutched her stomach and buried her head in between her knees, the agony hitting her like thousands of sharp needles. She loved Stefan, but Damon was her rock. Her foundation. She trusted him with everything, whether it was her life or her underwear drawer.
She could still smell his scent through her tears and she desperately stayed rooted in the spot, breathing in the entire essence that was Damon. Her heart turned and her stomach flipped as she heard her front door open, hoping that it was him.
(Except, it wasn't; obviously.)
"Oh, Darling, what's the matter?"
His words only made her cry harder as she fell to the sofa, pressing her hands against her stomach as her muscles clutched beneath her harsh huff's and pants'.
