The other Gilbert Girl - A Damon Salvatore love story.

Part 7 - Unforeseen Photograph

A/N - It's been such a long time! What happened Megan? I'm truly sorry guys, I've been so sick recently but I'm better now, and I'm writing again. So without further ado - here is, Part 7:)

- Megan xo

Settling back into daily life was not as easy as I had hoped it to be. I was not an optimist, I knew coming back after being away for so long was going to be difficult, but I had at least hoped it would have been easier than whatever this was.

Because Elena and Jeremy had school, and Aunt Jenna had work my days had mainly consisted of going through all the old boxes in the Attic that belonged to mum and dad. Nobody had gone through them yet, it seemed. The duct tape that marked all the cardboard boxes told me that. But here I was, on the fourth day of being home alone sat in the middle of the living room, legs crossed and half a dozen boxes surrounding me.

I had put my IPod of shuffle, and the calming music set the atmosphere as I sat back on the cushion I used as a seat separating my bum from the hard wood floor. Struggling to lift the first box into my lap, I sighed, giving up, and using the kitchen knife sat on the floor next to me to slice open the box easily. It opened with a small 'pop', and a cloud of dust rose into the surrounding air before falling slowly to the ground.

I watched the dust particles float mindlessly for a few seconds, before clearing my mind, and reaching into the box without looking. First out of the box came a photo album. I flicked through it absentmindedly, without really taking any of the images in. Until I saw one of our mum when she was our age, stood at the front of the porch at the bottom of the steps outside of the house. It made me freeze how alike Elena and I looked like our mother when she was younger. I turned over the photo, and scrawled onto the back of it in black Biro the words 'Miss Mystic Fall, 1983'. Pushing the photo to the side, I once again, plunged my hand back into the box

My fingertips brushed against soft fabric, and I let my forefinger and thumb stroke it for a moment before pulling it out of the box with a gasp. Because it was the same dress my mother wore in the photo.

Snatching the image back up, I unfolded the delicate fabric and compared it. Impossible. Aunt Jenna had told me she had given almost every item of clothing of my parents to Charity shops in the area. And this was the exception.

The dress itself was sage green, and according to the picture, it wasn't tight fit, neither was it baggy. It hung loosely on my mother's curves, and just about hit the floor, missing the gravel by a few centimetres. I didn't even need to think about it, I heaved myself up from the floor, the dress safely pinned to my side as I raced up the stairs into the bathroom that adjoined Elena's room.

It took a few tries, pulling the front of the dress over my chest, and getting it comfortable fitting. It had no sleeves, and a simple belt that tied up around the waist, a few shades darker than the skirt of the dress. Looking at myself in the mirror, it was almost as if something clicked.

Of course, the dress was a little bit tighter on me than it was on mum, but I always had more curves than her or Elena - it was just something I had learned to live with. But it still looked right. It was when my vision was suddenly clouded, and the tears had started to spill down my cheers, one by one at first then all at once; that I noticed someone was stood at the Elena's bedroom door watching me through the space.

I took in a deep breath, wiping my tears and holding in the hiccups. "I must look like a fool, Damon," I muttered, holding up the ruffled skirts, and walking out of the bathroom, before sitting down on Elena's bed silently.

He shook his head, not moving his gaze from where it was held in the bathroom. "Not at all, Emilia, I think you look quite sane actually,"

"Is that meant to be a compliment?" I chuckled, smoothing out the fabric that covered my legs lightly. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw him shrug, and decided to not question him further.

"Are you going to wear that to the ball?" He asked, coming to sit next to me, but leaving a good gap between us, thinking it went unnoticed. It didn't. Now it was my turn to shrug, pushing a strand fallen hair behind my ear.

"I don't know about that one yet, Salvatore. In all honesty, me and Elena... Well she likes these public events and I don't. So there's your answer." I stood up, immediately uncomfortable with the way he was looking at me like he was really looking at me.

"You and Elena really are nothing alike, are you?" I didn't say anything, instead focusing all my attention on the way the fluffy carpet felt beneath my bare toes, and looking at a photo of my sister, Bonnie and Meredith that sat on her bedside cabinet. It looked like it had been taken a little while ago, I decided, by looking at the length of Elena's hair which was significantly shorter. They were all smiling at the camera, and by the reflection in Bonnie's glasses, I saw it was Stefan that had taken the photo.

"I mean, aside from physically. Her hair is a little longer than yours, and you have different coloured eyes, and you tend to keep things a little more reserved than she does. Elena likes the attention doesn't she?" Damon asked, and I nodded.

"It isn't that she likes the attention," I defended my sister harshly, "She just likes to know people like her. It's how she shows her confidence around her friends." Damon had stood up now, and was stood a little behind me from what I could see in the mirror. I felt my heart race a little, and I placed the photo down immediately before I did something stupid and dropped it. "How did have you managed to figure out that I'm 'reserved' in a week, Damon?" I asked, whirling around, and caught the slight surprise in his face before it went back to being as blank as it had been before.

"I'm good at reading people, that's all. I know people and how they act around situations. I mean, you could be more grateful, I did almost save your life during that incident in the kitchen a few days ago... " He tried to pass it off, but I raised an eyebrow, and took a step further to him.

"Don't tell me you know how I act. Don't you dare." I took another step towards him, expecting him to move backwards - but he didn't. " Because you have no idea what I've been through, and until you know the pain of losing both your parents in one night, you won't lecture me on how I have to act towards you. Got it, Damon?" This time I raised my both my hands, and pushed the palms into his chest, intending for him to stumble back, even slightly. But he didn't. He stood there, staring at me, something gleaming in his eyes, like he almost found what I was saying amusing.

"Damon, I have known you a week. And I have come to the conclusion that you are a massive jerk, even if you did help me. Get the hell out of my house." Out of instinct, I raised my hand to the base of my throat, and ripped off the heavy locket Damon had given me the first night I got here. His eyes flashed red, and in a second he had grabbed the necklace forcefully, and he wrapped it back around my neck, his fingers brushing my skin for mere seconds; but it still sent a shiver down my spine.

"Don't you take that damn locket off until I tell you too, you hear me Emilia? I don't care we don't talk again, I don't think we're fit to be friends anyway. Maybe you're too different to Elena for us to get on. But you don't take it off, ever, unless I tell you too, understood?" He growled in my ear, a strain had entered his voice that I had never heard before. It sent a different kind of chill down my spine. I didn't say anything, but it was obvious the message had gotten across. My hands had curled into fists by my side.

We both stood our ground, but eventually he sighed, raising his hands in defeat.

"Fine, you win Emilia. I'll go." He turned to leave, and almost managed to get to the bedroom door before turning around. "Just a thought - if you do go to the Mystic Falls Ball... You should wear that dress." I counted the number of footsteps as he walked down the stairs, and through the hall and waited until I heard the front door shut before letting a single tear streak down my face and mark the carpet.

There was something about Damon Salvatore that got to me in ways no one had got to me before. Something that sparkled in his eyes that made me feel like my knees where going to go weak.

"Jerk." I muttered one more time before untying the satin belt and going back into the bathroom to take the dress off.