Title: Dirty Little Secret (1/1)
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries (tv show, not book)
Characters: Damon Salvatore, Elena Gilbert
Rating: T for hints of violence.
Spoilers: Through 2x10
Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries and its characters belong to the CW, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: A tag for a Damon/Elena scene in 2x10. More detailed summary in the story, so no one is accidentally spoiled.
A/N: Con crit is always welcome.
To lurkers and commenters alike, thank you.
Summary: This is a tag for the 2x10 scene in which Damon confronts Elena during her attempt to surrender to Klaus. Yeah, you know which one I'm talking about. *g*
Dirty Little Secret
I go wild cause you break me open
Wild cause you left me here
I go wild...
Wild when the waves start to break
And God knows they're breaking in me now...
Wild 'cause it doesn't make sense
For me to cry out in my own defense
Wild 'cause I would do anything
To tear you off your precious fence
~ Poe - Wild
"Get your ass out the door before I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out myself." Firmly, but still careful not to bruise, Damon grasped Elena's upper arm.
"No." One small word, carrying a wealth of foolhardy determination he admired in spite of himself. When Elena found his grip unmovable, she struggled, throwing a desperate but clumsy punch with her free arm.
He caught it, so easily it would have been laughable: if every cell in his dead body wasn't screaming for him to throw her over his shoulder and take her home, to his bed, and keep her there, chained, if necessary, while he showed her exactly why she couldn't go sacrificing her precious life.
Not for Stefan. Not for Jeremy. Not for Jenna, or Bonnie, or himself.
For some unfathomable reason, he was one of the legion she cared about; he saw that, even if he didn't understand it. It meant something - more than he would ever admit to anyone. Elena had faced down vampire and witch alike to preserve his worthless existence. He would rip out his own heart before he'd let her continue on her well-intentioned suicide mission.
There was no nobility in this on his part, just selfishness. He could not abide a world without her in it. Would not. One day she would die, with a map of her life written in the skin of her hands and face, but today was not that day, and by then he would be ready to go, too, or to keep her with him for all of eternity.
Granted, it would make his un-life so much simpler yet admittedly less interesting if Elena had an ounce of self-preservation. But he liked the fire she possessed, the steel core hidden by her soft curves, sweet smiles, and old-soul eyes the color of lovingly aged whiskey.
Still gripping her tiny fist, dwarfing it with his own, Damon leaned in, his movements deliberate, letting Elena feel his leashed strength. Until her breath came in jagged gasps misting warm against his face. "Don't ever do that again," he said in a rough whisper, swallowing hard as their gazes met and locked, until those coal-black lashes of hers fluttered closed and then open again. They stood so close her heartbeat was a hammer in his own chest. For an illusory moment, he felt alive. Truly alive.
Every unnecessary breath he took carried her scent to him: a sour top note of fear, a sharp middle note of adrenalin, and a musky base note that had him pressing his hips into her before he could think better of it - arousal.
He knew her dirty little secret now, and he would guard it as closely as he guarded his own - for the moment. Reluctantly he eased away, marking her with his eyes.
Elena Gilbert wanted him.