Down a Crooked Path - Chapter Twenty-One - Part Two
Shrugging into his charcoal suit jacket, Stefan raised a brow as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. The Founder’s Party would officially start in half an hour and Damon and Elena had already left. Typically Katherine preferred arriving fashionably late in order to make her typical grand entrance. Tonight, considering why they were going and what they intended to do, she’d announced that they were going to be on time.
Mostly so that she could get it over with.
“I never thought I’d be dressing up for one of these again,” he murmured, shifting his focus to Katherine’s reflection as she stepped into her dress and pulled it up over her hips.
“Never is a very long time when ‘forever’ isn’t hyperbole,” she said, adjusting the wide straps of the sleeveless black dress as she shot him a withering look. “And we wouldn’t be going if you’d agreed to my idea.”
Stefan snorted, turning to Katherine as she presented her back to him and swept her artfully curled hair over her shoulder. Her ‘idea’ had involved locking Damon and Elena in the cell in the basement for a few days -naked - until they got over themselves. Gripping the delicate zipper, he carefully pulled it up, mindful of the thin, gauzy overlay that threatened to get stuck every few inches. “Plan B, Katherine,” he reminded her. “We agreed to try my idea first.”
“Talking is overrated,” she argued, shivering as he secured the zipper and pressed a kiss to the skin at the nape of her neck.
“Yeah, but it gives Damon less reason to hunt me down and kick my ass,” he replied with a grin as she turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“I think he’d be too busy fu-“
“Trust me, he’d find the time.” Stefan interrupted, his grin widening at Katherine’s crudeness.
“You’re still afraid of your big brother,” Katherine said mockingly as she dragged her fingertips through his hair. Without her heels on, she actually had to crane her neck to meet his eye. “That’s so cute.”
“We have a deal, remember?” Stefan retorted, ignoring her as he smoothed his hands over her hips before locking them around her waist. Katherine sighed before pursing her lips and looking away. Watching her with curiosity, Stefan wondered what she planned to say to Elena. The sum total of his speech to Damon was going to be ‘get your head out of your ass and stop brooding.’ Stefan figured the best way to snap his brother out of his funk was to point out just how much he’d been acting like he had for most of his vampire existence.
He had a feeling that Katherine’s conversation with Elena would be a bit more…to the point.
“Yeah, yeah, talk first,” Katherine said as her lips curved into the devilish smirk that he knew so well. He couldn’t help but return it as she added. “Forcibly restrain later.”
~*~
Twisting in front of the full length mirror, Elena eyed her bare back with trepidation. The Founder’s Party was about to begin and she and Caroline were both putting the finishing touches on their outfits and hair in a guest bedroom at the Lockwood Estate.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this dress,” she muttered, knowing that Caroline would hear her in the bathroom.
Leaning through the doorway, the blonde looked at the dress with a critical eye before breaking into a wide smile. “You look amazing,” she said. “Damon’s going to love it.”
Rolling her eyes, Elena couldn’t help but return the smile as her friend ducked back into the bathroom to finish her make up. She hadn’t chosen the dress with the express purpose of making her boyfriend drool, but Caroline was right, Damon would love it. The dark green fabric hugged her curves with sleek precision, bringing out the flecks of gold in her dark brown eyes and the highlights in her hair. From the front, the dress appeared modest - if a hem stopping just short of mid-thigh could be considered modest - with long sleeves and a neckline that covered most of her collarbone.
The back - or lack thereof - made her stomach twist into knots.
It plunged down from her shoulders, all the way to the curve of her bottom, where it draped elegantly, leaving the entire expanse of her back bare. Caroline had styled her hair in an elaborate French braid that curved around her head and over her shoulder, leaving her neck bare as well.
The dress coupled with her hair conspired to make her feel so…exposed.
“How am I supposed to sit down in this thing without flashing the entire town?” she asked, smoothing her hands over her hips and tugging on the ridiculously short skirt.
“You can’t, really,” Caroline replied matter-of-factly from the bathroom. “You kind of have to, like, lean.”
“Lean?” Elena repeated. “Wonderful.”
“Beauty is pain,” the blonde quipped with a wink as she breezed into the room, her long, perfectly curled hair fluttering out behind her. Opening one of four shoeboxes at the foot of the bed, she pulled out a pair of sky high leopard print platform stilettos, brandishing one like a trophy in each hand.
Elena’s eyes went wide. “You have got to be kidding me!”
“What?” Caroline replied innocently, presenting the shoes to her expectantly. “You wear heels, Elena.”
“Heels,” she stressed, jabbing a finger at the five inch spikes jutting out from the soles of the shoes. “Those are stilts.”
“Oh, my god,” Caroline cried in exasperation. “Stop acting like this is some kind of What Not To Wear intervention! You are not a fashion pariah or a perpetual klutz. You are a hot, sexy vampire and you will wear these shoes.”
“I am going to fall on my ass wearing those, Caroline.”
“Oh, you will not! Trust me…just walk slowly, everyone will think you’re being seductive.” Caroline paused before finishing “And if you fall, there are enough vampires around to compel everyone to forget it happened. You’ll be fine.”
Glaring at her friend, Elena grudgingly accepted the offered shoes, eyeing them skeptically as she placed a hand on the nearby dresser for balance. Slipping the heels on one at a time, she straightened up and took a few tentative steps. After an initial moment of wobbliness, she found her equilibrium, taking a few surprisingly smooth steps toward the full-length mirror.
Damn, she thought, raising her brows in appreciation. The leopard print actually looked really good with the color of the dress - not to mention making her legs look a mile long.
“Admit it,” Caroline said, sidling up next to her and smoothing invisible wrinkles out of her strapless, fuchsia tea-length dress. “I know what I’m doing. We look amazing.”
Trying not to roll her eyes, Elena couldn’t fight the grin that tugged at her lips. She’d been dreading the Founder’s Party since the moment Caroline had dragged her into it. For the most part, she still was. Despite Caroline and Damon’s insistence that she was up to the challenge, Elena had serious doubts about her control of the bloodlust.
But at least she’d look hot while she ripped the Founding Families to shreds.
A low whistle caught Elena’s attention, making her turn toward the open bedroom door. Tyler stood in the doorway in his suit, leaning against the frame and gazing appreciatively at both her and Caroline. “Wow,” he said, smiling at his girlfriend.
“Thank you,” the blond vampire replied with a grin, shooting an ‘I told you so’ look Elena’s way.
“The guests are starting to arrive,” he said, his expression shifting to one of concern as sweat broke out on Elena’s brow and goosebumps rose up and down her spine. “Are you ready?”
Licking her suddenly dry lips, Elena stammered. “I-I don’t-.”
“Five minutes,” Caroline said, holding up her hand, fingers splayed for emphasis as she moved toward the door and shooed him toward the stairs. “We’ll be right down.”
Offering Elena a nod of support, Tyler headed toward the grand staircase leading down to the first floor. Closing the door behind him, Caroline scurried into the bathroom.
“Caroline, I don’t think I can do this,” Elena whispered, wringing her hands as her best friend returned with two champagne flutes and an unopened blood bag.
“I know you don’t, but if I waited for you to believe that you could, you’d still be shut up in the Salvatore house hanging out with Alaric,” the blonde stated sensibly as she placed the champagne flutes onto the dresser and began splitting the contents of the blood bag between them. The aroma made Elena’s mouth water. “Now, did you do what I told you?”
Elena nodded, recalling the double serving of blood she’d consumed before arriving at the Lockwood Estate. “Yes.”
“Perfect,” Caroline nodded, tossing the empty blood bag into the wastebasket before handing Elena one of the champagne flutes. “Between that and this little snack, it should keep the edge off for the rest of the night.” Clinking the glasses together, she added a bright. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” Elena replied, trying to soak up some of Caroline’s optimism as she brought the glass to her lips. The blood hit her tongue, making her moan softly as her taste buds exploded with delight. She wondered if there would ever come a time when feeding didn’t cause a sensory overload that nearly left her an incoherent, babbling mess.
Despite the desire to gorge, Elena forced herself to match her friend’s slow, measured sips until the entire contents of the glass had disappeared. Resisting the urge to sweep her finger around the inside of the champagne flute to get at the blood lining the side of the glass, Elena turned her attention to the mirror, taking one last look at the final product of Caroline’s hard work and double checking to make sure she hadn’t dribbled her dinner down her chin.
“Let’s go,” Caroline announced, slipping her arm through Elena’s and escorting her toward the door. The chatter of the guests carried up from the first floor, causing her to suck in a sharp breath. “Take it slow,” Caroline cautioned, speaking with quiet intensity despite the smile plastered on her face. “One second at a time. There are plenty of blood bags in the cooler in the bathroom upstairs if you start to get shaky. Just take the heels off and run.”
Swallowing as they hit the bottom stair, Elena nodded, trying to match Caroline’s smile. Focusing on the murmur of voices, rather than the human heartbeats pulsing underneath, she braced herself for the initial onslaught of bloodlust.
It didn’t come.
Letting out the breath she’d inadvertently been holding, she scented the air, still clinging tightly to Caroline’s arm. The scent of blood was there, calling to her and making her mouth water, but the desperation, the need that normally accompanied it, failed to materialize. It was like being hungry in her favorite restaurant - annoying and persistent - but manageable.
“Nice,” Caroline nodded her approval, leading Elena toward the foyer where the guests were congregating amidst uniformed servers with trays of champagne. Taking two from one of the passing trays, she handed one to Elena and toasted her again. “You are so ready for this.”
I hope you’re right, Elena thought nervously, plastering a smile on her face as she took a sip of the champagne. The dry, bubbly alcohol slid smoothly down her throat, further distracting her from the desire to feed. Scanning the faces of the people she’d known since childhood, she swallowed. I really, really hope you’re right.
~*~
Damon sipped his bourbon, watching Elena over the rim of his glass, as she smiled and laughed and danced with Alaric. She looked stunning and completely at ease amid the sea of humans surrounding her - and even if Damon had wanted to look away, he wouldn’t have been able to. The deep, shimmery green of her dress contrasted beautifully with her skin, making it glow in the soft lighting on the veranda. His mouth went dry - not for the first time - as Alaric turned her in a slow circle until her back was to him.
Clamping his lips shut, he managed to hold back a groan.
All Damon saw was bare skin - miles of it, framed in that enticing green.
His vision blurred as he imagined that same bare skin - this time framed by him - from behind, his fangs sinking into her throat, her low moans of pleasure…
The taste of her blood hitting his tongue…
Damon’s grip on the glass tightened as all of the blood in his body surged straight to his groin.
Alaric whispered something to her, causing Elena to throw back her head in laughter…and drawing the attention of every fucking male in the room.
He’d never been jealous of the looks Elena had received when they’d gone out. As long as no one had touched her, he’d let them stare - she was fucking gorgeous and they would have been idiots not to - smug with the knowledge that she was his.
Watching Alaric dance with Elena, however, his best friend’s hand lightly resting at the small of her back, Damon found himself contemplating homicide.
Gulping his bourbon, his gaze drifted lower, toward the floor, in an attempt to reign in his thoughts. And his out of control libido. All he saw, however, was a pair of impossibly perfect legs.
Fucking hell, he thought as he took in every graceful line, those heels.
The heels had to be at least five inches - maybe six - and they added length to Elena’s already long legs. Damon stared, slowly drinking in the sight of her delicate ankles, the curve of her calf, the back of her knee, her perfectly toned thigh, the green fabric that hugged her ass and then he was back to where he’d started - wanting to kill his best friend for having his hands on his girlfriend’s bare skin.
Even if Alaric was literally the last person who’d ever be interested in Elena.
“You should ask her to dance.”
Stefan’s voice startled Damon out of his murderous thoughts, drawing his attention away from Elena long enough to acknowledge his brother’s presence. Glaring at him, he drained his drink and signaled the bartender for another.
“Enjoying yourself?” Damon asked, evading the question and wondering why his brother was still in Mystic Falls, let alone at a town function.
“Oh, you know me,” Stefan said, lifting a shoulder as he surveyed the dance floor. “I can’t stay away from these social gatherings. They’re such a rarity in this town.”
Despite his bad mood, Damon smirked. “Does it surprise you that Caroline’s managed to become the planning committee?”
“Not at all,” Stefan replied with a grin as the bartender returned with a fresh drink for Damon and a whiskey seven for his brother. They drank in silence, Elena’s soft laughter inevitably drawing Damon’s gaze back to her and Alaric as they continued to dance. He’d thought about tuning into their conversation - just to make sure Elena was handling the bloodlust as smoothly as it appeared - but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He already felt like a goddamn prison guard with the way he’d been hovering around her since he’d returned. Eavesdropping on her private conversation didn’t feel right.
I wouldn’t have to eavesdrop at all if I just fucking talked to her.
Flitting through his mind, the errant thought made Damon’s heart beat painfully harder in his chest. He missed her - missed her so fucking much that he could barely breathe around the knot of longing in his gut and the lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe he was watching from the sidelines while Elena danced with another man - even if it was his best friend and her pseudo guardian.
Then he blinked and he was back in the clearing, back at the foot of the cliff staring down into Elena’s vacant eyes as he held her broken and bloody body in his arms. Panic and loss ripped through him, as palpable and vibrant as it had been that night. Damon swore he could feel the rocky ground beneath his knees and hear the wind rushing through the trees as he pressed his bloody wrist to her throat and begged her to drink - to live.
She’s not dead, he repeated for the millionth time, trying to take comfort in that fact, but another thought followed on the heels of that cold comfort.
No thanks to him.
This is how it has to be, he reminded himself. He’d failed her on that cliff, but he wouldn’t fail her now. He’d make sure that she learned how to control the bloodlust and to have a normal life without spilling a single drop of human blood. There hadn’t been a vampire in history that hadn’t killed, but goddammit, somehow he’d make sure that Elena became the first and would never have to shoulder the guilt of taking a human life.
It was the least he could do after the way he’d fucked everything up.
“Elena looks like she’s enjoying herself,” Stefan observed, stubbornly lingering on the topic even though Damon had zero interest in discussing Elena - with him or anyone else. “She’s doing really well.”
“Yes, she is,” Damon agreed, tensing slightly as a one of Alaric’s fellow teachers interrupted him and Elena to say hello. He watched closely, noting the way she began to fidget with her earrings as she endured the brief conversation. Her strained smile as Alaric took her back into his arms was the only sign of the effort she’d put into maintaining her control. Letting out the breath he’d been holding, Damon found his brother staring at him expectantly. “I don’t want her to think otherwise.”
“Is that why you’re letting Ric dance with her while you brood?” Stefan asked, raising a brow. “Because you’re afraid she’ll doubt herself if her actual date pays attention to her?”
Damon blinked, stunned by the blunt appraisal. “This isn’t a date, Stefan, this is about-.”
“I know what this is about,” Stefan interrupted smoothly, nodding in that patronizing way that made Damon’s temper shoot from zero to rage in half a second. If Stefan noticed, he didn’t let it faze him as he continued. “This is about you and your guilt. This is about punishing yourself for what happened to Elena and I’m here to tell you that you’re being an idiot.”
Damon glowered at him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, really?” Stefan retorted with a laugh. “I don’t know what I’m talking about? I think for once I’m uniquely qualified. I know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“You know shit, little brother,” Damon sneered.
“Shut up and listen to me,” Stefan snapped, the conversational tone he’d had when they’d started talking had been replaced with impatience - a trait that broody, morose Stefan would never have indulged in. “I understand that you feel like a failure, completely undeserving of her love, her time, her anything, but that isn’t how she feels,” he continued, speaking each word distinctly, as if Damon were some kind of idiot. “Maybe in the beginning Elena needed you to keep her at arm’s length so that she could find her footing, but it’s been two weeks-.”
“Wait,” Damon demanded, shock replacing his anger as he stared, wide-eyed at his brother. “Two weeks?” What the fuck?
“Yes. Two weeks,” Stefan repeated with a sigh. “I’m not going to waste my time explaining the many reasons why what you’re doing is stupid and going to have the opposite effect you’re hoping for. She’s got Caroline for a babysitter, Damon, she needs you to be her partner. Get out there and ask Elena to dance.”
Two weeks. How the fuck had it been two weeks? Damon looked at Elena, trying to separate the bleak passage of time since she’d been kidnapped into days and nights, but it was all a blur of panic and pain, frustration and longing. It had been longer than two weeks, really. He hadn’t held her because he simply wanted to since he’d sent her back to Atlanta - hadn’t really talked to her, hadn’t kissed her, hadn’t…
Christ on a mother-fucking crutch. They hadn’t made love in weeks? Gazing at Elena out on the dance floor, he thought about the nights he’d spent on the couch while she slept alone in his bed and wondered if he’d lost his goddamn mind. How could he keep her at arm’s length? What was he…
Elena reaching for him as she fell, panic and hope warring in her gaze.
Watching her fall…knowing he was going to be too late.
Elena’s empty, accusing gaze.
His failure.
Damon clenched his jaw as he dropped his gaze, staring into his glass of bourbon. In the dim lighting, the amber liquid looked red, reminding him of all of the blood on his hands - Elena’s blood. Attempting to draw a breath around the tightness in his chest, he said. “It’s not that easy.”
Stefan shrugged, dismissing Damon’s excuses with ease. “Make it that easy.”
~*~
Elena gripped Alaric’s hand carefully, focusing on his voice as they danced while trying not to crush his fingers. Damon had never had a problem harnessing his superior strength, but she was still getting used to it and she didn’t want Alaric’s fingers to suffer the same fate as the numerous broken door handles at the Salvatore house.
“How are you doing?” Alaric asked as they moved to the slow, but pleasant instrumental piece.
“I’m doing fine,” Elena said, offering him a genuine smile and realizing that it was the absolute truth. The steady thrum of human heartbeats was a constant beneath the regular noise of the party, but so far, she’d managed the bloodlust with surprising ease.
Of course, she’d been holding her breath since she’d come down the staircase with Caroline, but Alaric didn’t need to know that. Part of her felt like she was cheating while the rest of her was simply relieved that she hadn’t attacked anybody.
Alaric nodded, his easy smile revealing no qualms about dancing with a brand new vampire. The lingering tension in Elena’s body ebbed away as she bit the inside of her cheek to hold back the tears of gratitude.
“I spoke to Jeremy today,” he said after a few moments of comfortable silence.
“How is he?” Elena asked immediately as the amplified pain of missing her brother made her chest ache.
“He’s good,” Alaric said, relating the details of the conversation he’d had with the younger man. “He whined about going back to class, but I think he’s secretly excited.”
Elena laughed, the startling sound bubbling up unexpectedly from her throat. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d really laughed. It felt good.
“And I think he’s met someone.”
“What?” she demanded, her eyes widening with surprise as she stared at him. “Who?”
“A girl named April,” Alaric explained with a shrug. “She’s in a study group with him, but don’t tell him I told you. I’m sure he thought he was playing it cool.”
Elena grinned as they continued to sway to the music, her heart swelling with joy for her brother. She scanned the crowd as they fell back into the companionable silence, letting her mind wander. This is nice, she thought idly, no pressure, no expectations, just her and her friend and…
Damon.
He stood by the bar, glaring at Stefan as the palpable tension between the two brothers eroded her sense of peace.
By the thunderous look on her boyfriend’s face, she knew they were talking about her.
Deciding to tune into their conversation and find out what was going on, Elena made it as far as closing her eyes when a tap on her shoulder interrupted her plans. “Mind if I cut in?”
Startled, Elena dropped Alaric’s hands and whirled around. A disconcerting sensation of déjà vu swept over her as she stared into deep brown eyes that were a mirror image of her own. “Katherine,” she said, pursing her lips in distaste as her mood soured further. “What are you doing here?”
Alaric eyed her warily. “You want to dance with me?”
“Sorry, teach. You’re cute, but no,” Katherine replied, taking a step closer to Elena as her lips curved in a suggestive grin. “I want to dance with my doppelganger.”
Alaric’s gaze tripped between the two women. “Ah…”
“It’s fine, Ric,” Elena sighed, crossing her arms as she glared at the older vampire. The teacher nodded, giving Elena a supportive nod as he headed back into the main house. When he was out of earshot, she hissed. “What do you want?”
Lifting her arms, Katherine raised a brow, taking a step toward Elena as if she meant to sweep her up into a waltz. Batting the hand away, Elena huffed. “I’m not dancing with you, Katherine. Tell me what you want.”
“You’re no fun,” Katherine replied, letting her arms fall to her sides as she dropped the beguiling act. “I don’t know how Damon can stand it.” Glancing over Elena’s shoulder, she raised a brow. “Speaking of which, why don’t we start with a little gratitude?”
“Gratitude?” Elena repeated, craning her neck to follow Katherine’s gaze to the bar where Damon and Stefan were still arguing.
“For saving his eternal existence,” the older vampire supplied, making Elena’s blood run cold as she hesitantly turned around, facing the other woman with decidedly less hostility. “Let me guess,” Katherine said, regarding Elena with a cold and measured gaze. “He hasn’t told you what happened.”
Swallowing, Elena shook her head. “He hasn’t told me anything,” she admitted, smoothing her suddenly clammy palms down the front of her dress. “I know that Landis is dead, but other than that…”
Katherine sneered. “Have you asked?”
“Of course,” Elena replied defensively, shifting uncomfortably as she admitted to herself that that wasn’t entirely true. She’d asked if Landis was dead and if Damon had killed him. Beyond that, however, she tried not to think about the monster during the day - she had to deal with him enough in the middle of the night. “I mean I…”
“Do you know why Stefan and I are still in town?” Katherine demanded, placing a hand on her hip.
Elena shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about it.” I’ve been a little busy learning how not to rip out throats.
“Stefan doesn’t want to leave his brother until he knows that you two are going to work things out,” Katherine explained, making it sound like an accusation.
“We…will,” Elena replied defensively, feeling annoyed and a little violated by the knowledge that Stefan and Katherine had been analyzing her and Damon’s relationship for the past two weeks. Every eye had been on her anyway, scrutinizing her every move, and now she had to add her ex-boyfriend and her five-hundred year old doppelganger to the list? Fucking perfect. “We’ve both been through a lot and it’s just going to take time to-.”
“Time?” Katherine scoffed. “I don’t think you understand. He watched you die, Elena. When I called from South Carolina, it was to tell Stefan that he needed to find a way to let his brother go because even I couldn’t force someone go on in that kind of agony,” she continued bluntly. “You really think Damon just needs time to get over that?”
Tears stung Elena’s eyes as she wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach. When she’d discovered that Damon believed her dead, she’d been terrified of the possibilities - of the lengths he’d go to get revenge - and while killing himself had crossed her mind, having Katherine confirm her fears made her feel sick. “What do you want me to do?” she demanded, fighting to keep her voice steady. “He won’t let me get close. He’s been holding me at arm’s length for two weeks. He’s not even sleeping in the same bed with me.”
“Well, then there’s your answer,” Katherine said with a shrug. “Seduce him.”
Elena blinked. “What?” she demanded. “Have you been listening to me at all? He doesn’t want-.”
“Doesn’t want what?” the older vampire asked, chuckling derisively as she closed the space between them to mere inches. Gazing over Elena’s shoulder, she continued. “Damon hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of you all night. He’s staring at you so hard right now that I’m surprised you haven’t gone up in flames. Keep telling yourself that he’s just looking out for you, but that’s not what I see.”
Elena swallowed as heat flooded her entire body. Unable to help herself, she asked. “What do you see?”
“He wants you, Elena,” Katherine replied, her eyes flashing with triumph as she smirked. “He wants you so badly that if he wasn’t twisted up with guilt he’d already have you stripped naked but for those sexy little heels while he showed you exactly what it means to fuck like a vampire.”
Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, Elena closed her eyes and fought with everything she had to keep it together while the illicit images that the older vampire’s words evoked made her overly sensitive body pulse with desire. “Don’t,” she begged, struggling to keep her voice even.
“Damon was an amazing lover,” Katherine continued, her voice taking on a dreamy quality as she ignored Elena’s tortured plea. “Even as a human he made my top ten,” she paused, considering. “Maybe my top five.”
“Oh, my god,” Elena groaned, scrambling to reign in her raging libido as Katherine continued to deliberately goad her.
“He’d had this thing that he did with his tongue-.”
“Katherine, stop,” Elena cried, opening her eyes as her cheeks burned with lust, anger and a healthy dose of jealousy. Knowing about Katherine’s past with the Salvatores was one thing - hearing the details straight from the bitch’s mouth was something else entirely. “I’m not using sex as a weapon.”
“Don’t be so overdramatic,” Katherine retorted, rolling her eyes as she took a merciful step backwards. “I know that you’re a bit of a prude and using sex as a tool probably sounds all evil and slutty and something you would never ever do, but trust me. Of all of the walls that the two of you have built up, sex is going to be the easiest one to bring down. And once it’s down - once Damon is all vulnerable and you’ve fucked away some of that tension he’s wearing like a goddamn suit of armor - then you talk and bring down the other ones so that I can get the fuck out of this town.”
“Oh, of course,” Elena sneered, finding some of her footing now that her doppelganger had given her room to breathe. “This is all about you, Katherine. Just like always.”
“Who cares who it’s about if you and Damon get over yourselves and get back to normal?” Katherine replied, challenge glinting in her eyes despite her casual posture. “Look, if your hatred of me is more important than your relationship with Damon, then fine. Don’t take my advice.” Plucking a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, the older vampire took a sip and began to walk away. Elena’s shoulder’s sagged in relief, but the moment was short lived as Katherine murmured a final warning directly into her ear. “But wouldn’t that be a tragedy? You lose the most important thing in the world to you out of pride.”
Elena felt, rather than saw Katherine saunter away, her dominating, larger-than-life presence lingering long after the sound of her footsteps blended into the noise of the party. Standing in the middle of the dance floor Elena struggled to come to grips with the blunt reality of the older vampire’s words.
Seduce Damon. Use sex to get what she wanted. Elena had to admit that the idea sounded appealing, although she didn’t have Katherine’s confidence that it would work to bring down the walls keeping her and her boyfriend apart.
But being with Damon again? Elena’s eyelids drifted shut as she brought her fingers to her lips and nearly melted into a puddle on the floor. Absolutely nothing sounded better than that. Whether it solved their problems or not, at least Katherine wouldn’t be able to say ‘I told you so’.
Squaring her shoulders with a new sense of determination, Elena opened her eyes and turned around, intent on going over to the bar and dragging Damon upstairs into one of the many guest bedrooms on the Lockwood estate - although, truth be told, in that moment, she’d settle for a coat closet.
She didn’t get very far.
“Damon,” she said, surprised to find him standing right in front of her. “H-hi.”
“Hi,” he replied, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hint of a smile. Elena stared at him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his blue-eyed gaze, the scent of his cologne, the perfection of his black suit and black button down shirt underneath. The open collar exposed a bare patch of skin at the hollow of his throat, making her mouth water as she imagined pressing her lips to that spot and tasting him. She wanted him to touch her, to take her in his arms and just…consume her so that she wouldn’t have to think anymore, wouldn’t have to worry about the bloodlust or her control or whether or not she was going to make it through the day without ripping anyone she loved to shreds.
She just wanted to be with him, but her throat was too dry, her body buzzing too hard and her brain too scattered for her to say a word.
As usual, Damon saved her, holding out his hand and tentatively asking. “Do you want to dance?”
Accepting his offer with a trembling hand, Elena nodded. “Yes.”