Another one-shot. But I couldn't help myself. I have been working on another essay and I'm sick of writing about historical facts – I wanted a little fiction.

I'm not sure about this story. Honestly, I knew I wouldn't particularly like anything after My Family because that story is AMAZING. Even I will admit it. It may actually be my masterpiece. I also planned this story differently, but somehow it came out like this. Anyway, please let me know what you think about it.

Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! I do not own Vampire Diaries or any of the characters

xXx

You Should Run

She comes through the darkness, like a shadow come to life; like her doppelganger, shrouded in darkness. Damon watches her from his place by the window. He feels no surprise at the sight of her, only slight fear. He thinks he knows what she will say; but then, this is Elena Gilbert. She is the very definition of surprise.

Her hair is down; she is wearing a black dress, short and beautiful. He doesn't think he has ever seen her in black. His colour.

She meets his gaze, and he is surprised at its strength. It hits him then: she has changed. He has become accustomed to the girl who cries into her pillow, calling out for her boyfriend – the boyfriend who no longer cares for her, who kills willingly. That girl had tear-filled eyes and a broken smile.

This Elena... Damon struggles. Right now she looks like Katherine, but Damon knows Elena has had this deep-rooted strength in her all along. She is Elena Gilbert, a warrior. She just forgot for a little while. And he has to admit, so did he.

When she speaks, she looks him right in the eye. "I'm ready."

Two conflicting emotions: his heart leaps inside his chest, but his stomach fills with dread. He doesn't show any of it on his face though; his face is the definition of indifference. In his smooth face, he replies, "I highly doubt that."

She steps forward, closer to him. "I am." She betrays no hint of doubt. "I want to be with you."

He has dreamt about this moment a hundred times; died a hundred deaths in the hope that, in his next life, this would happen. Yet...

He goes towards her, strolling slowly, acting casual. She must be wondering why he isn't happier, but her face doesn't show her thoughts; she's spent too much time with him, getting a good poker face.

He grips her by the sides and pulls her into him. He kisses her, pouring himself into her. She relaxes, perhaps thinking that he is predictable; perhaps thinking this is what she has always wanted – or worse, that it's not enough. Her kiss sets fire to his lips and burns him right to the core. His doesn't want to pull away though; this type of burning, it doesn't hurt.

The next bit will.

He breaks off the kiss and with a tiny portion of his strength he pushes her away. She stumbles, though he has to give her credit, she doesn't fall. Bemusement flitters across her face, and the mask of indifference has gone away. She doesn't get it.

"You fool," he spits.

Elena blinks. "What?" This isn't going how she expected.

"Run," he commands. He balls his hands into fists, trying not to place his hands round her neck. He could strangle her for her stupidity. "Get out of here. Now."

"What are you talking about?" Elena demands. She is angry at him. Good. It will make this easier, for both of them.

He steps closer to her, his face almost on hers. He tries not to think that just half a minute ago, they were kissing. It's too tempting. "You think Stefan hurt you? You think your heart was – or is – broken because of what Stefan has done to you? You're an idiot. You think that you have suffered because of him? You're wrong.

"I will hurt you. I will make you feel pain like you have never felt before. I will make you want to tear your own heart out. I will make you want to walk into a river and drown yourself. I will break your heart."

Elena stares at him. He knows that she cannot believe what he is saying, that he isn't kissing her and tears her clothes off her body. This is not what she expected.

But he sees her toss her hair back, lift her chin up and square her shoulders. And then he says the words that will stun him:

"I don't care."

He doesn't let it warm his heart – hell, he doesn't let it reach his heart. He snorts, backing away. "You clearly didn't get Katherine's brains. Just a stupid little girl." He continues to insult her, hoping that he will hurt her enough to make her run.

Elena does not move; her eyes on him. "You'll break my heart. Hurt me. It's not like I didn't think of that Damon. I know who you are. I know that you have a list of faults a mile long. You will try to push me away, try to hurt me." She closes the distance between them. "I don't care."

He can't look away from her. This girl is brimming with energy, with anger. It's a beautiful sight.

She is so close to him that she bends to his ear, whispering, "I would rather have a broken heart than a longing one." She then nips it, and it is as sharp as a vampire's fangs. She begins to kiss him again, leaving a trail of them down his neck. He, Damon Salvatore, the great womanizer, the sex god, is paralysed and she takes charge. She begins to unbutton his shirt, moving towards his mouth again. Is she eager?

He pulls his mouth away at the last second. Elena pauses, glancing up at him. Weakly – he can feel his strength fading every second – he says, "You should run."

She then smiles, but it is a pure Damon smirk. She has learnt from the best. "So should you. But we both know you're not going anywhere."

And that's when he knows: she will be the one to break his heart.

But that's what love does to you. You know it will kill you, but in the end, you don't care.