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Tweak says, "bobo"

elena gilbert (matter) wrote in marinanova,
@ 2012-10-10 12:31:00

Entry tags:

buffy summers, damon salvatore, dick grayson (young justice), elena gilbert, eric northman, loki laufeyson, sam winchester, spencer reid, zatanna zatara

( day 188 ) action (open) / action (closed)
action; open
[ Elena's a bit of everywhere today -- by the kiosk, looking shortly at the frozen banana stand and wondering the lengths of the wardens' troll worthiness, at the library browsing for books and maybe taking another peek at some of the ones Angel had been browsing the other day, and having some lunch to-go at The Bistro.

She has a few things on her mind, but she has a polite smile for anyone and everyone. ]

action; damon salvatore
[ Guess who's knocking at the door, Damon? Actually, no: Elena's stopping in front of his door, taking a breath, and getting over herself. She's done everything else in lieu of this today: spoke to Veridical, talked to Claire, walked around the dome. How many times has she shown up at Damon's door unannounced now? Is he even home? Just seeing him isn't exactly her reason for today's visit (thought with such wryness to offset her stressed energy) but still. (It's easier thinking through this than the actual reason for her visit.)

She purses her lips, sets her resolve, and walks in. However, she walks in slowly -- listening for movement or sound, her usual surety somewhat muted. ] Damon?

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reaction
2012-10-20 09:49 am UTC (link)

[ Plenty of reasons why he's here, and none of them includes a desire to start another argument with Elena. He's done. He's over it. It's not going to change anything. She's clearly going to be part of the Dick Force, and Damon being Damon is just going to do what he does best: he'll keep her from getting herself killed.

This morning, he had found her schedule slipped underneath his door. He'd given it a quick glance, considered for a moment to tuck the loose leaf paper in his jacket pocket, before deciding to be a twelve year old about it. He crunched it up, rolled it into a ball and threw it across the room. It landed a good distance away from the fireplace. (A good thing considering he did go back for it later that evening.)

Now he's on her balcony, seated in her wicker chair with his feet propped up on the footrest. He attempts not to eavesdrop on the random bits of conversations happening inside the apartment, but he can't help himself. There might be an on and off switch for that care too much thing, but there's none for that vampiric hearing of his. He smirks every now and then, closes his eyes and soon enough, starts drifting off to sleep. (There can only be so much Barbie commentary he can take.)

Moments later, he jerks awake at the all too annoying sounds of the table being cleared -- the dishes being cleaned. (They never do it right. Too much scraping over delicate china.) He shifts, crosses his arms over his chest and listens for Elena. He zeroes in on the sound of her voice; her soft murmurs, her delicate little sighs, her breathing, her heartbeat, and realizes she's close.

The moment she steps outside, he turns his head, fixes his gaze on her and manages a smirk. ]

Tell me you're still hungry for dessert. [ There's a box of red velvet cake next to him on the floor, but it's out of her sight, so that little sentence of his could take on a whole other meaning. It'll be Elena's 30th day in prisneyland tomorrow. (Away from Klaus. Away from the dangers at home. It's something worth celebrating.) ]

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matter
2012-10-20 01:11 pm UTC (link)

[ Another argument isn't entirely the furthest thing from her mind. It's kind of par for the course, especially what Damon shows up near her window at night.

She wouldn't like to call seeing him a balm; but maybe in a way it is. Because the moment she's out there with him, blinking at his appearance, it's as if there is no weight to lift.

She doesn't notice the cake, obviously, but she does see the smirk. Leave it to Elena Gilbert to ignore any and all sexual innuendoes. ] Damon. [ His name is a sigh on a shallow breath. ] What are you doing here? [ It's not antagonistic -- not even a little bit. But she can't just forget their antagonism from yesterday. She lets go of the door, steps ever so closer, her brows furrowed. ]

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reaction
2012-10-20 01:45 pm UTC (link)

I wouldn't need to be here if I could read your chicken scrawl handwriting. [ He pats the footrest, moving his legs off to the side a little. ] I'm having the hardest time finding recognizable words like s-o-r-r-y for instance. [ Of course he's just messing around. He's not expecting her to apologize for not telling him because he knows. He knows why Elena chose not to tell him about being part of the Dumb Force because he'd just stop her. It's what he does. ]

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matter
2012-10-20 02:13 pm UTC (link)

[ Har, har, har. Elena's lips purse, and she sighs though her nose at the jab -- she knows what he's doing, her look steady and knowing. He's messing around, and definitely not expecting an apology. (But that he brings it up makes it all the more clear it did hurt him.) She doesn't wait longer than that sigh, walking over to slide between the chair and footrest and take a seat across from him. Rests a hand below his knee for balance. Only she has no intention of pulling it away in a rush. ] I'm not sorry I joined, Damon. [ Defiant and firm to the last. But that's not what they're talking about, are they? Her expression sombers some; her hand moves down his leg as she pulls in a breath and straightens some. ] But I didn't enjoy being so... [ what's the word ] duplistic. [ Because it did hurt him, and more than that -- it's not who she wants to be, and it's definitely not what she wants this to be. She might have had her reasons to do it, and Damon's past actions might have given her all the justifiable cause in the world, but they were all more excuses than reasons.

Maybe she's not saying sorry, but that's close enough to what she means. ]

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reaction
2012-10-20 02:38 pm UTC (link)

[ He watches when she moves to sit across from him, relaxes slightly at the touch, but narrows his eyes at her explanation. Her not being at all sorry that she joined -- well, he expected as much. Damon arches his eyebrows slightly at the mention of duplicity, resists the urge to roll his eyes, but does it anyway. ]

Why? [ Why get herself into this unnecessary mess is what he's thinking. ] You're already doing the cheerleading thing. There's also school. Shouldn't you be attempting to finish up? [ Ric -- obviously doing a bad parenting job. He's not at all surprised. ] What's the attraction of going on patrols? It's so lame.

Is it a boy? [ He cants his head to the side with a smirk. ]

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matter
2012-10-20 02:55 pm UTC (link)

[ Cute. ] No, there's a girl, and her name is Elena Gilbert, and she wants to help. [ She pauses, lets herself become slightly more serious. ] It's more than just patrols, okay? It's figuring this place out. A way home. [ To Jeremy. Bonnie and Tyler and Matt. She doesn't have the heart to include Stefan at the moment, even to herself, but the ache she has of being away is clear. She doesn't allow herself to feel it so much, not like this, not out loud, and it takes her a moment. It takes her a troubling moment, considering the solidity of Damon beside her, beneath her touch, and everyone here she cares about too. How much, despite it all, she likes it here. ] I guess I just feel like I have to do something. [ She has to try. ] Everything else is - [ you, she thinks. For herself. He's for her, this is. It's no coincidence her eyes lock with his at that moment, and that's the moment she stops. ] It's for me, or Caroline, or... Ric. It's for them too. [ They deserve some peace here, some distraction, some purpose. She exhales. ]

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reaction
2012-10-20 04:11 pm UTC (link)

This isn't the Land of Oz, Dorothy. It isn't as simple as looking for a pair of heels, clicking them thrice and finding yourself back in Mystic Falls in the blink of an eye. There's just the stabilizer, and last I checked - it's a one way street to Prisneyland with no known exits. [ But there it is. A prison is a prison is a prison. Despite the comfy apartments, the all you can eat buffet, the endless entertainment, they're still just trapped here for what seems like an eternity, and it sucks.

It's not fair to Elena, and she doesn't deserve this. There's so much waiting for her back home, and there's so much yet for her to experience. Damon's done it all. He's lived. (For far too long in fact.)

And there's the matter of Stefan. He's pretty sure Elena misses him. The fact that she never mentions his name even speaks volumes, and he's been doing a great job at being that dick that steals his brother's girl. Bravo. ]

But you don't belong here, and you should go home. [ He sits up, puts his feet on the ground and picks the cake box up, placing it on the footrest. ] Tomorrow marks your thirtieth day in prison.

Here's hoping you find a way home and I won't have to get you another cake for your sixtieth.

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matter
2012-10-20 04:50 pm UTC (link)

[ She doesn't need the disillusionment, and his spiel causes her lips to part and her lashes to flutter. It's all things she already knows: that there's probably no way. Jeremy, Bonnie, everyone; they're probably all lost to her, to them. She can't let herself believe that forever, but realistically she knows the chances are small if not non-existent. Maybe that makes this easier.

She doesn't have to want to stay here, she could just give into it -- just enough to secretly appreciate it. To want things.

And maybe that's why Damon is making her blink, why she feels the urge to speak up. Because it strikes the heart of the matter: they can't leave, they can't stay, and she wants to do both. She wants to tell him, even as he's telling her, that she may not belong (he doesn't belong either, and it has nothing to do with his crimes) and maybe she should go home, but she doesn't want to.

A part of her doesn't mean any of it, any of the trying. (The ache is real, and maybe she does miss and doesn't miss Stefan at all, and maybe she will always love him and resent him, and maybe she's not over her heartbreak yet -- but her heart has broken.)

The cake is distracting, and comes out of nowhere. His words are distracting, because they seep down to her very core. Because he understands, and because he loves her, and because he wants things for her that are the things she wants and somehow still conflict with the things she wants too. (Him. This place.) ]

You got me a... prison anniversary cake? [ Because he wants her too. Her tone is quiet, light, wry, but her expression is a little more devastated than that, because she feels that. Likes that he did. That he wants this too. ]

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reaction
2012-10-20 06:31 pm UTC (link)

Consider it a... congratulations, you've survived thirty days here without even so much as a scratch. It's an Elena Gilbert record. [ He starts opening the box, revealing a red velvet cake. Dark chocolate would have been far better suited for this bittersweet occasion, he thinks. He glances up, notices the expression on her face and stops.

Uh-oh. He picks the box up, puts it behind him and scoots forward slightly, bridging that gap between them. ]

Hey. [ She's looking upset, and like a typical caveman vampire, Damon's wishing he could take away her worries via compulsion. He reaches for her hand instead, giving it a gentle squeeze. ] It'll be okay.

We'll find a way. We always do. Someday this whole prison adventure will be nothing but a distant memory. [ He forces out a smile, touches her cheek with the tips of his fingers. ] You won't even have to remember it if you don't want to. [ He knows she won't ever let herself forget even if sometimes it seems like the easier option what with a vampire at hand and all that, but his offer stands. ]

You're going to be fine.

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matter
2012-10-20 06:55 pm UTC (link)

[ She doesn't even turn towards the cake, doesn't move at all. She only blinks, quick and slow as she gazes at him, processes his words through a thick film of emotion. Is it a record? She supposes it is, and she supposes -- really, it doesn't matter. She thinks about interrupting him, feels her heart catch in her chest (her breath, or both, or something) when worry takes hold of his features and his hand takes hers.

It doesn't startle her, so much as she's watching outside herself, or maybe she's way too much in the present, here, with him. She pulls in a quiet breath, because she really should say something, especially when he's talking to her in that voice, saying those words, their words.

Because god, the problem is she doesn't want to forget.

Her eyes fill when he suggests it, when she can still feel the brush of his fingers fading on her cheek. These aren't tears to shed; she'll keep them. She exhales shakily, moves her head to the side hardly at all, because answer is no, I don't want to forget but it's also so much more. She's moving (falling) forward without another thought, her hand reaching to cradle his neck, her lips falling full on his, and if that stupid, ridiculous, amazing cake wasn't behind him, she would be on him too. ]

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reaction
2012-10-20 09:33 pm UTC (link)

[ It's a good thing Elena's mindful of the fact there's cake sitting directly behind Damon. He's wearing a new Varvatos jacket and his jeans happens to be his favorite. It would be a shame to have cream and cake all over it. There would be so much complaining, and she'll never hear the end of it.

Nice of her to shut him up too. He was already running out of--pfft, he'll never run out of clever things to say.

Damon cups her face in his hands, urges her lips to part.

He's not deluded enough to think that he got the girl because he got the girl. Elena's with him right now because Stefan's not here. He's sure that things would have gone a whole lot differently if his baby bro were here. But no matter. He'll take what he can, when he can, for as long as he's on this seemingly lucky streak. It's the kind of idiot he is. He's got an eternity to live. The inevitable heartbreak and crushing disappointment can wait.

He moves one hand behind his back, carelessly nudges the box to the floor. (It's cake. It'll live.) ]

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matter
2012-10-20 11:15 pm UTC (link)

[ He doesn't have to convince her to deepen the kiss: her mouth opens against his. The thud of the cake box against the balcony floor seems passing and loud. She moves forward, tumbles somehow gracefully onto him, a knee braced between his legs. It feels -- he feels amazing, her body and breasts colliding with his chest, the warmth of his mouth. It's been easy, could be so easy to fall into the lust he evokes just with that one kiss, the pressure of him underneath her, but she doesn't. She kisses him like it's not a race, or a whim, or an excitement.

She kisses him with feeling, because she wants to feel it, wants him to feel it. Cradles his head in her hands with a slight tremble and relaxes, presses her hips and chest into him. Is eager and firm, lingers with every slide of her lips and tongue against his, responds to his. Guides with with a gentle nudge to press open-mouthed kisses to his chin, down his throat, below his Adam's apple, scrapes her teeth over his pulse, licks and sucks delicately behind his ear.

And she touches him, with the hesitancy and longing of exploring and desiring and loving someone she has for ages, shaking ever so slightly when she can't steady herself for wanting, doing, taking. His cheek, his jaw, down his chest between their bodies, tickling the hair on the nape of his neck. Does so unhurriedly, not to tease, but to feel and watch and be felt, and that alone is enough to make every moment and every nerve of hers slip into a haze. She feels like she's buzzing, trembling once she finds his mouth again with her own, her eyes half-lidded and skimming across his expression as she brushes her lips across his.

Because she's paying attention. ]

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