We're Lost 'Til We Learn How To Ask

Blair, in spite of herself, gave in to being the child she was. She was seventeen. Young. Naïve. Will learn one day. But not that cold December. The snow slowly began to fall harder, making trips to town less likely. When it was snowing out, she would sit by the fire in the small study, claiming it as her own. She noticed that nobody went inside there long enough. She wouldn't have found it surprising if she saw one of the help sidestep it. Why though? It was the most beautiful room in the house. It was secluded and felt far away from the Salvatore Estate, far away from Mystic Falls. There, she felt safe.

When it wasn't pouring white flakes outside, she would put on her cloak and take a walk, not bothering to tell anybody about it. She would go back just in the nick of time. She didn't wander far, at least not far enough for her. Once she attempted to reach Fell's church. Someone told her it was nearby, on the other side of the wood, but the snow began to fall and she didn't want to lose her tracks.

She avoided Damon, locking herself in her room or in the study, which automatically makes it her domain. He, however, sprawls around the house casually. It was his house after all. He could do whatever he wanted. And what he wanted was to make his presence unbearable to Blair. He would pick on her little flaws during the unavoidable family dinners. And occasionally, he would comment on how hers and Stefan's wedding was going to be the town's most coveted event, in which Blair would only smile her sarcastic smile at him and then roll her eyes.

For a week she tried to rid herself of the pang in her chest when she remembered the situation she was in with Damon. It didn't work. She still woke up at night from nightmares involving him, poison, and the Shakespearean era. It also included wedding once, that Sunday night. She jolted up from bed and braced herself with a pillow before she saw her groom's face. It was probably Stefan. All of the wedding talk must have gotten to her.

She glanced at her window and decided not to go back to sleep since it was almost dawn anyway. Instead, she slipped in her housedress and slippers and decided to go down to the kitchen to watch the cooks make breakfast. They were the first to rise, always, she noticed. And every time she woke up from those nightmares just before the morning made an appearance, she would hear them from the study, chit chatting and gossiping—usual townspeople activities.

This morning she heard a few laughs as she approached the kitchen. Something funny must have happened at the market and one of them probably reenacted the scene for the rest of them to see. How wrong she was for the source of their laughter was the source of her irritability.

"Good morning, Miss Blair," one of the younger ones said. "Bad dream again?"

"I'm afraid so." She said simply, disregarding Damon. He was perched atop a stool and watched her as she sat on one of the chairs. The girl who greeted her gave her a cup of chocolate almost immediately after acknowledging her presence.

"Come here often?" Damon asked. Blair had to take a moment to figure out of he was really speaking with her or just another one of the help.

She collected her thoughts. Saying something back meant having a conversation, which she really was not in the mood to have. Ignoring him would simply be rude.

"Yes," it dripped with sarcasm and annoyance, but that didn't seem to faze him. He smiled cautiously.

"So what is this supposed bad dream about?" He offered.

"Nothing of your concern, Mr. Salvatore," Blair got up with her mug of chocolate and walked long, careful strides to the study where Damon was not allowed. It was the unspoken rule. But Blair forgot Damon was not a man who liked rules, spoken or not. He followed her shortly, finding her on the floor near the fireplace. She was wrapped around a throw, a book on her lap. She was not reading it though. Her eyes were trained on the fire.

He sat on the couch behind her, crossed his legs and spread his arms on the rest, and watched her. Her long, brown hair cascaded down her back like waves no sailor should dare brave. The dim lights and the glow of the fire did wonders for it. He had an urge to touch it, but he didn't. He couldn't. He knew she knew he was there, but still she remained statue-like, as if waiting for something.

He wanted to talk, say anything to break the uncomfortable silence between them, but for the first time in his life he is at loss of words. He stripped his mind away of all the flowery words he's collected and decided to settle on something so simple that even he won't mess it up.

"I'm sorry," he said. He felt like he was holding his breath before the jump in a lake for a swim.

"For what?" she said back, still not moving.

Of course she would do that. He should have predicted that nothing was ever simple for Blair. It just wasn't how things worked for her. There had to be a catch, an intricate detail, spoilage. It was as if she didn't want to be happy at all.

"For making fun of you, I guess," he sat up straight and uncrossed his legs, "for Romeo and Juliet, too."

"Hm," she scoffed.

"Most of all I'm sorry for not saying sorry earlier." I had to be selfish and relish myself in your misery. "I know you're not happy here and I should have been a better host instead of being-" he trailed off, desperate for a reaction from her, but he let her continue with his speech.

"I should have been a better host instead of being an obnoxious brat." He finished.

"You were, weren't you?"

Why was she making this so difficult? He was supposed to say sorry and she was supposed to say that it was alright, but apparently it wasn't. What has he done anyway? He tried to recall everything that's ever happened between them, but he couldn't see a single flaw that could upset her other than that fight about the book and him picking on her. Unless she somehow still thought about that almost-kiss.

"I am not sorry I tried to kiss you, though, if that's what you're trying to say."

She turned to him and stood up, letting the throw fall down on the floor. He expected her to be mad, or even the slightest bit annoyed. But she just wasn't. Maybe she figured it meant nothing. It did mean nothing, didn't it? No, he decided, was the answer. He wanted to kiss her. It was not a spur of the moment. It was something he has been working around on since the first time he caught sight of her lips.

"What?" He asked, noticing that hint of delight in her eyes that he hasn't seen for days.

"Why would you do that?" She was being vague again.

"Why would I do what?"

"Why would you want to kiss me?"

He stared at her, confused, possibly dumbfounded by this girl who was just that—a girl. Everyone around her tried to make her a woman when she was just too young to know any better. Nobody has ever asked Damon why he would kiss them. They just simply obliged, not caring. It was Damon Salvatore, after all.

"What ever reason would I have to not want to kiss you, Blair?" He said honestly.

"I honestly do not know. Maybe it is due to the fact that you and I, we're never going to work. Not here. Not in this time."

He raised an eyebrow. Did she just acknowledge the slightest bit of possibility that there was something between them? As if she had read his mind, she took a step forward and smiled.

"We'll never survive it." She said, sounding sad.

"I never took you for a weakling, Blair," he showed no sign of amusement. He wanted her to know how serious all of this was for him. He, too, was surprised to see himself this baffled about an affair. He was, after all, the best man to have one with… in his opinion anyway.

She was precious. It would destroy her if any of this thinking was to be extracted from the four walls of the room. Then he remembered her mother. What would she have thought?

"I'm not suggesting anything. Damon, I am to be wed to your brother in spring," she let the sentence hang in the air with all the pain that they both had with it. The smile she offered was replaced by lips trying their hardest not to quiver.

"Then what are you suggesting, Blair? Talk to me now. Speak now," he sighed, "or forever hold your peace."

She took a quick glance at the door, which was closed. She just had to check. She just wanted to feel safe. And in that moment she felt like she was deliberately throwing herself over a cliff, head first, without anybody to catch her but sharp rocks and maybe some tree branches.

When she didn't answer him, he stood and walked towards her. He was merely inches away from her, still not touching though, but staring. There he was again, drowning her in his eyes. It was like she was in a trance. All of her power to even move has been stripped away from her. There was just the multiple depths of blues and grays in his eyes, which went well with the detailing in the room, and then there were his lips, so soft, so delicate.

On her own soft and delicate lips.

As soon as she realized this, it was over. He was three inches away from her again. So close. But it felt like he was miles away on the other side of the world with an invisible wall between them. Without thinking, her hand goes up and touches her lips lightly. Yes, it did happen. It wasn't one of her daydreams where she imagines the almost-kiss. It was real. She felt it this time.

His hands remained behind his back. Somehow it showed the youth in him, like a school boy back at New York. Suddenly she saw everything flash in front of her. He would fit right in in New York yet still be the country boy that he was. And that would be okay with her. He was fine just the way he was. She wouldn't change him for the world.

"Are you ready to speak now, Blair?" he asked. Her big brown eyes remained distant in a world she was already creating in her head. Perhaps his kissing only made it worse because as she came about, she had a smile on her face. Somehow he knew they were going to be okay.

She did speak eventually though, when he started walking back to the couch, her hand reached out to grab hold of his. With a new brightness in her, she said, "I know what I want." She wanted him. She wanted to run away, as she had always wanted but too scared to do so alone. She never mentioned the running away part though, not yet. Everything was still fresh and beautiful.

"It will get worse before it becomes better," Damon said. It has been three days since then. The night was silent and all he could hear was Blair's breathing as she lay in his arms, his hand resting just where his heart was, her head comfortably resting on his shoulder. He waited 'til midnight to sneak inside her room where she said she would be waiting. They have been meeting like this for three days. In the dark. In her room. Midnight.

His hand was stroking her arm as he stared at the ceiling. He wondered when the day their confinement in this room would end. They were careful, of course. He snuck out before dawn. They still put a front of being irritable toward each other when they were gathered in a room together. Stefan had no clue. Somehow Damon felt bad, guilty even. He didn't want to harm his brother, or worse, hurt him.

"Then we should prepare for just that," she said, breathing into his neck. He could tell she was already falling asleep. She was never one to stay up late anyway. He knew this somehow.

"Goodnight, Blair," he gave her a kiss atop her head as she murmured her goodnight.

And they do this two nights more, until it was time for Christmas Eve. The household has already been in a state of cheer. Giuseppe even smiled. A real smile as he brought out his oldest wine from his cellar. He promised a good, hearty Christmas meal to the Waldorfs.

Stefan had accompanied Blair that day out to town. She already had gifts for everyone, but she remembered everyone else—the cooks and the stable boys. She panicked and asked Damon to go with her but he was stuck at home with his father trying to sneak a Christmas sermon telling him that brothels are closed for the holidays so he better stay put and help with the festivities.

"Why are you in such a good mood?" Stefan asked on their way home. The snow had stopped falling since midmorning and everything was clearer. All of her gifts were perfectly wrapped and sat on the further side of the coach past Stefan.

"It's Christmas, Stefan. Why shouldn't I be in a good mood?" She cocks an eyebrow at him with a smirk on her face.

"Are you happy?" He asked. A lame question like that would have been shunned immediately by Blair, but she didn't.

"Yes," she said honestly, "for the first time, yes."

"That's good," he paused, "does it have anything to do with Damon sleeping in your quarters?"

Blair's smile quickly drops into a frown. No. Not a frown. A scowl. How long has he known? When? Why? Why now? Was he going to tell? But the real question that was banging in her head was: was he okay with it? He didn't look the least bit angry. His expression was neutral, as always.

"I saw him leave the other morning so I waited that night to see if he would sneak in again. I was right."

Blair continued to stare at him, still speechless. What was she to do? She knew Stefan was smart, observant. There was really nothing left to say. He's figured it out already.

"I won't tell," he promised, "but what are your plans?"

Just as she was about to explain to him that they did not have any concrete plans at all, the coach came to a halt, jerking both of them forward. She heard horses. They were startled by something.

"Umpires!" Blair heard the coachman though his voice was muffled. Umpires? She must have heard it wrong. Maybe it was some term in Mystic Falls.

Stefan pulled up their seats and revealed a secret compartment. It was full of various sticks, bottles of water, and guns. He took three guns and loaded them up with bullets as she watched idly by, frantic.

"What's going on, Stefan?" she asked, panicked.

"Stay here," he handed her a stake, "if anybody comes, stab them."

"What—?" before she could ask anything more he was out of the coach.

She heard a few gun shots, and then yelling, and then finally silence. She held onto the stake, clutching tightly. Suddenly, the door swung open. A man in a dark coat was grinning at her.

"Stay back," she shouted, holding the stake between them.

"So this is Blair Waldorf," he said. He took the stake from her hand in such force that she stumbled forward. He then took hold of her wrist and yanked her out of the coach, bringing her to her feet.

"Get your filthy hands off me! Who do you think you are?" Her eyes wandered on the road, searching for Stefan, their coachmen. One of the latter was sprawled near the front of the coach, the other was missing. Stefan was further away, on the ground. He wasn't unconscious but he couldn't quite move right either. He was struggling to get up. A woman in the same black attire was next to Stefan. She was definitely unconscious. Maybe even dead.

"What have you done to Stefan?" She demanded. His grip on her arm was unbelievably painful. She knew it was no use trying to break free.

"Oh he's all right. You however…" His mouth was so close to her ear that it disgusted her. "Hurry up, Salvatore. Wouldn't want a corpse bride, would you?"

"Let her go. She has nothing to do with this." Stefan yelled.

"I'm going to count to ten and if you aren't at my feet by then, then you could kiss your fiancé goodbye."

"No!"

"One… two, three, four, five, six,"

"Stop it." Stefan was on his feet now, still crouching and limping though, on his way towards them.

"Eight, nine," the man smirked and tilted Blair's head forcefully to one side that she thought he might have broken her neck. Stefan was only a few feet away, but she knew he'd never make it in time.

"Ten," he whispered in her ear, before a shark pain buried itself at the base of her neck. Her eyes widened as she realized it was him. He was biting her, drinking her blood, killing her. With this realization came another. It wasn't umpire the coachman was saying.

It was vampire.

N/A: Behold, the vampires! Honestly, I'd like to think the chapter title is appropriate, don't you? This took way too long to update. I was contemplating on whether to start Blamon now, but I decided I can't hold it much longer. I needed them to happen now xD I hope you love this! XOXO.