A/N: Hey guys so thanks for the feedback, reviews, favourites etc. Sorry it's been so long, I just have a lot of stories going at the moment so I'm finding it hard to write my chapters quickly. To put those of you who are concerned about Elena falling for Damon at ease I'd just like to make it clear that Elena definitely will not fall for Damon but as the story continues they'll be spending a lot of time together so who knows what mistakes Elena will make in her confused state

The Moulin Rouge wasn't what I prepared for it to be. The minute we were inside I wanted to get back out. Women of all different ages were flaunting themselves at Klaus…then at me. Feathers and ruffles and sparkles appeared before my eyes. This place all seemed a little too camp for my liking. Eventually we were sat a puffy red booth that held alcohol and cigars on a table. Apparently there was show due to be on any minute. Klaus smiled excitedly, deviously as the lights somehow got brighter and a sea of women's legs impressively lifting of the ground to their heads appeared before our eyes. It was the cancan. I laughed to myself at the cliché, hoping it looked like a smile of joy. It did as Klaus's eyes were on my face, an evil smile possessing his features. The show wasn't my cup of tea but I applauded anyway. It was then Klaus lead me into a purple coloured room. I knew what was going to go down. There, bang in the middle of the room were two chairs. One for me, one for Klaus. I swigged down my strong drink before taking my seat and waiting whatever women Klaus had picked out to appear and do…whatever. "I picked out one I think you'll enjoy immensely" Klaus whispered, in a tone I had never heard before. It was hard with a tad of sincerity but still beheld that twisted, stomach churning vibe to it. And the minute we were presented with the women, I knew the meaning behind his tone. Klaus's woman was his usual type. In the past month I had picked up on the fact that he preferred blonde hair, aluminous green eyes, fair skin and large breasts and he would usually pick the same for me. Only this time he never.

The woman in front of me was tall and slim. She had gleaming dark brown hair that finished just above her ribcage. Her skin had an olive glow to it and her eyes were big and round. Damn. Even her make-up was like Elena's, and the choice of clothes... or lingerie. The woman had a lacy purple bra on with panties to match. My breathing became heavier and began to quicken. The women approached me, placing her soft, silky legs on both sides of my straddling on my lap. I shut my eyes. I couldn't do this. I couldn't kill her. Not when she resembled Elena so much. Shutting my eyes wasn't helping, as when I felt the women's lips against my collarbone I imagined them to be Elena's. But she was not Elena. She will never be my Elena. No matter how much she reminded me of her. When I re-opened my eyes I felt an overcome of desire. A different sort of desire, that I had been avoiding the entire trip with Klaus. I wanted to kill this girl. I wanted to for one reason and one reason only.

Her face, it was emotionless. Nothing in her eyes. No fear, nor regret. Not even joy in what she was doing. So instead of going along with this silly façade of enjoying having a look alike of Elena play with me I cut to the chase. I lifted my hand to her throat hard, and turned her face slightly, I felt my fangs throb as they slipped from my gums. The bloodlust overtook me. I felt the veins extended from my eyes down to my cheeks and I easily pulled her neck closer to me and inserted my fangs…

I guess I was feeling better having Damon around now. There was still that little, awkward atmosphere but I appreciated him being there for me. He was adamant about getting my eating habits back to normal and so offered me a deal that if I allow him to cook for me every night we'll talk about the Stefan situation and where he could be. I woke up one morning as usual and felt good. I waltzed down the huge staircase of the Salvatore manor and went to check for mail. I did it every morning but there never were any letters. No bills to pay, just an empty letterbox. Only this morning there was a letter. I smiled bewildered as I took it out of the metal letter box, examining beautiful cream envelope addressed to me. Wait. Me? Who knew I lived here except Bonnie, Jeremy, Caroline, Damon and…Stefan. I walked back inside the house, not once taking my eyes of the letter. I sat on one of the sofas and began to rip the paper.

Dear Elena,

I honestly don't know why it has taken this long for me to write you. I suppose it's just too risky but I'm willing to be risky when it comes to you. I'm writing this uncertain of what to say exactly, so I'll start with this. I love you.

All my love, Stefan

I read over it again and again and again until it actually sunk in that this was an actual letter that was actually from Stefan. I lifted a shaking hand up to my chest before yelling out Damon's name.

"Damon. DAMON" I exclaimed, and undoubtedly he appeared almost immediately after yelling. A panic expression plastered on his face, although he soon turned curious when I handed him the letter. His hand lingered on mine for a moment as our fingers brushed together in the process of handing him the paper. He simply bit his lip before taking the letter into both of his hands and scanning his eyes over it. His lips slightly parted as he finished, his eyes flickering over to me. He placed his body next to mine on the sofa. A long pause clung in the atmosphere of the room as I waited in anticipation for Damon's reaction. His face gave away no sign of emotion. He was simply still. Maybe it was the shock? I poked his shoulder gently. His eyes fluttered as if coming out of a trance. It all seemed very out of character for Damon. He was always on alert, focussed. Especially since the sacrifice. He nodded, shuffling closer to me. I didn't shy away from the motion. I was used to Damon and I being close. He was my friend, dare I speak to soon.

"Are you going to write back?" My mood faded.

"I don't know the address he sent it from…" I whispered, my eyes suddenly welling up with tears. I knew it was too good to be true. Damon inhaled deeply, before removing himself from the position next to me and travelling over toward a table on the opposite side of the room. I heard cluttering but continued to stare into the dancing abnormality that the fire before me possessed. Damon's presence was back soon enough. A tear seeped from my left eye. It's like someone had just taken advantage of me, played a prank or something. Stefan had sent this letter I knew he had. I had read his journal a thousand of times, knowing he either wouldn't mind or wouldn't care. Depending on if he had fully stepped into the shoes of his past, dark self. Damon's large fingers entwined with mine as he passed a pen and piece of cream paper in my other hand. I looked down.

"What-"I began, but Damon cut in.

"Just write a letter. I'll make sure he gets it" Damon said confidently. I bit my lip, fighting back mixed tears of joy and sadness.

"But how?" I asked. My voice shaky and unsteady.

"Just trust me" Was all he said. He looked down, his free hand placed on my thigh now. "I'll give you some privacy…" He breathed before gently tapping my lap and standing up, exiting the room. The world seemed to have stopped for a moment. I then hastily ran up the huge staircase tripping on the last couple of steps. I turned corner and finally found myself in the room I slept in every night, haunted by his memory. I slammed the door of Stefan's room shut now slowly approaching his desk. It was full of papers, papers that I had read over and over again. Some were only essays for school whereas others were his favourite poems he had ripped from pages, and his favourite parts of his favourite books also ripped from pages. I knew why he ripped them out. Because Stefan believed in enjoying the little things, and Stefan enjoyed re-reading books he had read a thousand times. Analysing, memorising poems he already knew everything about. So instead of rummaging through a whole lot of books and what not to find them, he had them all here on his work desk which also held his journal. I inhaled deeply; placing the piece of paper on top of Stefan's belonging and retrieved a pen from the side. I clicked it a couple of times, giving myself time to clear my mind and just let my hand do the work.

Dear Stefan,

It doesn't matter that it's taken you a month to write me a letter and It's okay that you don't know what to say because honestly, neither do I. All that matters is that you haven't forgotten me and that you're still you. I know it's extremely risky and it's awfully brave of you for taking that risk. I really appreciate it. The past month has been incredibly hard. Every night I wake up in your bed, screaming because you're not there. His face haunts my dreams. It's like I've been living a nightmare. Your letter awoken me from that nightmare and now I feel hopeful that you'll be back one day. Damon has been taking good care of me, forcing me to eat and calming me down when I wake up at night since I've kinda cut myself off from everyone else. It's like when Klaus took you he secretly took me too. I miss you so much it hurts. I love you Stefan, always.

All My Love,


I breathed in deeply unable to stop the lone tear that fell of my cheek and onto the paper, forcing some of the ink to spread. As I folded the piece of paper slowly, rethinking the words over and over again in my head I finally found the energy to lift myself up from the chair the smell of something divine drifting through my nostrils. I tip toed downstairs not concerned as to what Damon was cooking up for breakfast. When I finally slowly stepped into the kitchen area that I wasn't all too familiar with I carefully place the letter at the side of where Damon was working. Damon stopped in the middle of washing so tomatoes, a dish towel draped over his shoulder. He puffed out a breath of air, whipping his palms on the towel before walking his finger over to retrieve the letter. I starred into the marble kitchen surface. Damon's finger brushed softly against the paper, his eyes now on me. I felt his stare and so looked back. His eyes were hard.

"We'll find him. I promise" The soothing words did wonders to my downed mood. I smiled back, before leaving the kitchen and taking my place, just like every other day, on the sofa to wallow in my pain and self pity…

I grunted as I threw the now dead women to the floor harshly. Klaus sat with raised eyebrows, the blonde still ruffling through his hair positioned on his crotch with her legs at both sides of him. I lifted my hand to my mouth, whipping away the remains of her blood. I starred into Klaus's eyes, full of amusement. I know exactly what was running through his mind. You're becoming exactly what I want you too become.

"May I be excused?" I whispered, viciously squeezing the arms of the chair. A quiet chuckle escaped the werewolf/vampire's mouth. I didn't flinch, not react.

"I'll see you back at the hotel in an hour" Was all Klaus said.

"Thank you" I replied before almost instantly leaving the small, purple coloured room. I pushed through a crowd of desperate yet rich men and sparkling females throwing themselves at them. When the Paris air hit me I'd never felt more relived in my life. The taste of her blood still clung onto my taste buds, the image of her face, oh so scared whilst possessing the same features as my lovers, was carved into my head. I shut my eyes tight refusing to let the tears fall. It didn't work. I hadn't cried for one month. But that back there was too much for me to handle, for anyone to handle. I composed myself, whipping away the lone tear from my cheek and finally moving my feet making my way back to the hotel letting sleep take over my being, preparing myself for the harsh nightmares I knew would floor my mind…