Summary: Elena bites back a gasp. She's jealous. She's jealous of Rose; of Damon. She's jealous of Rose and Damon together.

~ Jealousy ~

They were sleeping together.

Or at least, they had.

Elena doesn't know how she can tell, but it's the first thought that comes to her mind when she walks in the room. The evidence is screaming at her, but that's ridiculous because there isn't any evidence of that to begin with.

She inclines her head slightly, tuning out whatever Stefan – or was it Alaric who was speaking? She can't remember – as she examines the both of them.

Maybe, maybe she thinks (she knows, dammit, she knows) that they're sleeping together because of the discrete, sideways glances Damon keeps throwing at Rose whenever her name comes up in the conversation. He's looking at her with a strange, protective light in his eyes; it's almost like he cares about her. Or maybe it's the way Rose's mouth twitched upwards when she answered Damon's question, her voice a honeyed, lazy, teasing drawl. Or maybe, it's even the way Damon put his hand on Rose's knee when he sat down next to her, and Elena's almost positive he let it linger there for a beat or two longer than necessary. It's maybe even the way Rose leans her body almost imperceptibly closer to Damon's when he's speaking, and there's a soft, appreciative glow in her eyes, or the way he meets her gaze boldly, and his mouth just inches a little higher. To an untrained eye, there's barely even a change, but Elena's heart drops because her eye isn't untrained, and she'd bet her life any day that that inch was the Damon equivalent to a smile.

And then her stomach knots itself, because only a few weeks ago, the only one who was able to make him smile was her and, lately, she's been the cause of more frowns than all the smiles she's put on his face combined.

Elena bites her lip and fights the urge to snarl at Rose when she sees this one lean over to whisper in Damon's ear, and if there was a doubt in her mind before, it's sure gone now because everyone's looking at them in that incredulous, bewilderedly amused way; like they can't believe that Damon and Rose have (are) sleeping together.

She stands up suddenly, feeling disgusted. "Sorry, I need to go to the bathroom," she murmurs and exits the living room without a backward glance, too scared to look back and find something she really doesn't want to see.

And it frustrates her to no end, because she's not supposed to be affected by the fact that Damon and Rose are sleeping together but she is. And she's not supposed to care that Damon may be starting to move on from her but she does. She looks at herself in the mirror and tries to breathe, but damn it there are freaking tears stinging her eyes, and there's a lump in her throat that's making her choke, and her heart's beating too hard against her chest it feels like it's breaking.

Elena bites back a gasp, her hand curling in her hair because, even though she hasn't felt this in over a year, this burning, choking, irrational yearning is a sensation that she finds all too familiar. She swallows, pressing her face against the counter.

She's jealous.

She's jealous of Rose; of Damon. She's jealous of Rose and Damon together. And it all suddenly becomes bright and crystal clear and she wants to laugh at herself because she's been scrutinizing her face in the mirror and comparing it Rose's – wondering what the hell had done Damon in – for the past ten minutes because she was fucking jealous. Even now after she realizes what she's been doing, Elena's still leaning over the sink, looking at her face closely and wondering if maybe it was the eyes – those seemingly always glowing hazel-green eyes – that had charmed Damon; or maybe it was the strangely fashionable haircut that had struck him and suddenly, he'd decided that he was into girls with short hair and sick of those with long.

How the hell would she know?

And yet, she's still examining her face, still wondering what had pushed Damon to sleep with Rose. If Elena is honest with herself, she admits that, sure, with those glowing eyes, that hair, the pouty, utterly kissable lips, that bone structure, that soft, British, phone-sex-worthy voice, Rose is easy on the eyes. And if Elena is really honest with herself, she grudgingly admits that, yeah, if she was a guy, she'd do Rose in a heartbeat too.

But all this thinking and stating the facts doesn't help her, and suddenly, it's getting harder to breathe, and she feels like she's choking, and God her vision's getting really blurry, but she can't seem to stop herself because she's jealous.

And Elena's so scared because if she's jealous of the mere possibility of Damon and Rose in an intimate relationship – which, she should stop kidding herself about because it's not a possibility it's a fact – than that means that she cares about Damon more than she's ever admit to anyone; including herself.

And that means that Damon is right.

She was (is) lying to him, to Stefan, hell to everybody (including herself) when she says that it's always going to be Stefan because apparently that's not the case.

Elena dries her eyes really quickly before she steps out of the bathroom and inhales deeply. Just as she makes her way back into the living room she bumps into – God – Rose.

The five hundred year old sexier-than-her vampire smiles at her in polite concern. "Are you alright?" Rose asks her.

Elena nods absently as she looks at Rose and decides that yes, it had to be the eyes. "I'm fine," she mumbles. "Just jealous."

Rose blinks, not understanding, and Elena ignores her and sits back next to Stefan, but Damon's head snaps up and he stares at her curiously.

Her neck's prickling, and Elena slowly raises her eyes, barely biting back a gasp when she meets icy blues.

Damon's mouth curves into a smile – a smile that speaks of newly acquired knowledge, Elena notices uncomfortably – and he discretely jerks his head in Stefan's direction, before mouthing something only she understands.

And Elena blushes as she takes in the hand Stefan's trailing up her thigh, replaying the words Damon had said to her in her head.

"I am, too."

Author's Note: Not a very romantic one-shot, I know, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone, and I had to write it down. A little insight on what Elena may or may not be feeling when she sees Damon and Rose together next episode, because she just has to feel something, right? Drop in a review on what you think about my take on a probable future situation!

Much love!