action.
[ He'd expected the anger being directed at him, but the whole touching his wound thing is making him all slightly confused again. Damon had sucked in a breath the moment her finger grazed his skin. It's only when he glances down at her hand that he realizes he'd been holding his breath. What even. He looks back up at her; meets her gaze and is all too aware that they're standing only inches apart from each other.
It's unfair. The bed, the walls, the desk. Her lips. It's like they're all screaming for attention in his head. He knows it's only what he imagines, but he can't take it. He takes a sudden step back, trips over a box on the floor and lands flat on his back.
Clumsy, clumsy.
Now let's scratch the part where Rebekah sucks because she doesn't. Elena sucks and he hurts. ]