WHO: Elena and Damon (deadlycharming) WHEN: Friday night WHERE: Elena's room WHAT: Elena's feeling down and wants to see Damon RATING: High for blood sharing and making out STATUS: Complete
Elena was fed up. She wasn't used to being jealous and she certainly didn't like it. She hadn't had to compete with anyone else for a boy for a very long time. Not since Caroline had been all over Stefan when he'd first arrived in Fell's Church. Even then, it hadn't really been a competition, although Elena hadn't known that at the time. Even here, she'd decided pretty early on that she wasn't going to go after Stefan out of respect for her younger self and the girlfriend code, but hearing that the other Elena wanted to be bffs with Damon too just really annoyed her for some reason. She'd been spending a lot of time with Damon, both here and at home, and without Stefan around any more, she had started opening up to him. Showing him her aura had been the first step, and him teaching her to channel it had been the second. So he wasn't her Damon, but she was growing closer to him all the same and for the first time since she'd known him, she didn't have to feel guilty about it. But Elena was turning it into a competition, and it was one competition that Elena was determined to win. The other Elena hadn't shared half the things with Damon that she had. She hadn't seen inside his mind, she hadn't comforted the little boy in chains who guarded the boulder around his heart and she certainly hadn't touched or felt or been with him the way she had just a week ago. But then, neither had this Damon. He was before that time. But he was still the same Damon, and Elena found herself feeling fiercely protective over him, especially now that he was all she had.
Elena shifted slightly. She was laying on the bed, her blonde hair fanned out over the duvet cover, her lapis eyes fixed on the ceiling overhead. The curtains were flapping slightly in the cool breeze blowing through the open window and the draft ruffled strands of Elena's hair, tickling her cheeks and shoulders. She'd told Damon to use the door, but he very rarely listened to her, so she'd left the window open just in case. She thought, as she lay there, that there was something romantic about a man climbing in your window to see you, even if he had sleek shiny feathers and a beak at the time. Not that she wanted to be romanced by Damon...