All is silent as I step out of the bathroom. Well, as silent as it can be for someone like me. My superhuman hearing registers the sound the light breeze makes as it touches the window, one human male laughing loudly in front of his room's TV, one floor below us; Jeremy's calm, sleepy breaths. Both Gilberts are sleeping, as I walk between the beds and get hold of my 18th century friend – the Bourbon. I move towards the window without glancing at Elena's peaceful face – the stalker move that always gets me into trouble. Instead, I concentrate on the rhythmic, soothing music her heartbeat is for me. Music, yes – when you are forced to walk the Earth for 160 years, contemporary music just doesn't do the trick anymore.

I put on one of my shirts and peek between the half closed curtains, in case Kol has followed us here and has decided to take my staking him under the heart more personally than it was intended. Seriously, how do people expect me to behave when all they do is try to kill me? Sit back and enjoy the process? I straighten the collar in frustration, leaving the shirt itself unbuttoned and open the bottle I hold with quick movements. This has been one long, leading-nowhere kind of day. Not that I complain – I've had Elena by my side all along and even though her behavior has been as moral and ethic and nerve-wrecking as always it's not every day I get to smell her sweet scent and hear her heartbeat as much as I please.

My mind is consumed by these adolescent-oriented thoughts as I pour some Bourbon in a plastic cup and sit by the window, letting out a sigh. I let my body get comfortable as I place my feet on one of the other chairs and compose my face to the façade I've been putting on for a century and a half: cold, heartless – even better, soul less – Damon. I know it's cracking – my mask. I can feel it. That's the problem; that I've been feeling. I play with the cup as I, once again, think of the main reason my whole existence's show has been failing lately – the reason, which is sleeping innocently two beds away, probably dreaming about my brother. At this, I drink as if the cup holds poison rather than alcohol and I just need to end the pain once and for all. Obviously, all it does is turn me into a masochist, whose pain is simply not enough. Hey Damon, you already know she doesn't and probably will never love you, so why don't you stare at her magnificent beauty? Watching your unrequited love sleep is definitely going to help you! Before I realize, my eyes have already turned on her under their own, free will.

I catch her staring at me and she immediately closes her eyes and buries her face in the pillow. I don't dare look away, as one side of my mouth goes up in amusement and – I hate to admit – gratefulness. Apparently baby bro has left the building for the night. Not a second passes before she opens her eyes again and looks at me, almost shyly. She slightly lifts her head from the pillow now, as if it's blocking her view and I tilt my head on the side, because, honestly, I can't quite understand what's happening.

I may not understand what Elena wants or needs right now, but nevertheless, I don't let the chance pass me by. What would that say for me, as both a vampire and a man? One word - incompetent. I get up and close the distance between myself and the double bed she's laying on with only five firm steps. I order my body down slowly, staring at her face all the way to the pillow. She's doesn't look angry or ready to protest, like she always does. Instead, she moves her body away an inch or so, to open up some room for me rather than to create distance between us. She repositions her head on her hand and I can't help but take every detail of the moment in.

Her breath is the tiniest bit quicker than usual – so is her heartbeat. Her long hair falls on her neck perfectly, creating a scarf, keeping her ever pumping veins hidden. Her eyes are warm and sunken with exhaustion as she looks at my face. Her stare doesn't move from mine – not for one moment does she glimpse at my bare chest. One thing truly admirable about Elena, she has never seemed too impressed by my good looks. I mean, yes, she constantly gazes at my lips, but that's just unavoidable. She finally decides to convert what's troubling her into words.

"You never told me about that. What you did for Rose." Her mouth is smiling as she says it, like she's proud of me or something.

I look up to the ceiling, the moment her words sink in. I'm on my back and I let my head rest on my forearm, just under it. I don't want this to be a redemption moment. It gets me a bit pissed honestly, the way they all get so surprised the moment I act properly. They ask me to be the better man but no one ever believes I can be the better man.

"It wasn't about you." I answer back, sounding harsh. Like it's a fault she's turned me into someone somehow appropriate.

But she smiles again, bigger this time and fixes her pillow, bringing her head on its edge, closer to me.

"Why don't you let people see the good in you?" Her voice is as warm as her eyes and filled with hope. I'm still looking up, trying to figure out a good answer to what seems to be Elena's eternal question for me. Tell her it hurts. Ask her what the point is. Why let people see the good in me when they're still going to choose my brother? And why the hell should I have to change? What if this is me? - The good and the bad. People have and always will be close minded about it. They want someone all pure to call a good man. The moment they see the dark side of the moon, they label you evil.

I'm a freaking stereotype. 160 year old vampire but that doesn't stop pathetic little humans from stereotyping me. I have just been hoping Elena would be different.

"Because when people see good, they expect good. And I don't have to live up to anyone's expectations."

I turn my head sideways again, this time deciding I won't be the one to break our eyes-looking-into-each-other's-soul bond. It all becomes too intense, too soon, and I can feel emotions are overwhelming her. I feel all of this too, but I need to be in control of the situation. I won't let myself mess this up – not this time. I've never been mad at Elena for acting like our last kiss meant nothing, but I force my mind grasp one rule. If anything happens, she has to be the one to initiate it.

Elena's gazing at me like she's longing for something, though she doesn't know what. I've seen that look many times in my long existence, but never has the face holding it been this beautiful and never have I been so prone to fulfilling every need she might have. Her breathing comes out ragged and her heartbeat is killing me. She knows very well what my last words meant and her mind is fighting what her body wants. Elena turns on her back, finally breaking our stare, ordering her lungs take in all the oxygen that, at this moment, is nowhere near sufficient.

I can't help but wonder if she ever feels like this every time she's with Stefan.

Her hand falls next to mine in adorable desperation. She's fighting this like the stubborn persona she is. My eyes fall from her perfect profile to her now exposed neck and chest and wander there for a while. I crave her touch; I crave some contact. I slowly let my hand reach out to take hers. Our forearms are already touching and the blood is rushing into her veins to her heart like never before. I slowly take three fingers in my palm. She doesn't object - she doesn't quicken the process either. She's lost and part of me wants to make this easier for her. You can't. She needs to know she wants this as much as you do…If she does. I take her small hand in mine and feel good. It feels good and right. It is right, right now.

Her eyes are wide and panicked. Her chest is going up and down rapidly as neither one of is letting each other's hand go. One second. Two, three, four…Elena leaves the bed and hurries outside, grabbing a cardigan as she goes. I'm left alone, literally cut in half. I desperately need to follow her. Every fiber of my being is ordering me to make good use of my vampire speed, grab her and kiss her like never before. The part holding my self- destructive ego thinks it would be better I let it go, drink the pain away and make the decision easy for her.

It all goes down in one second. Then, I shut my stupid ego up. The third second, I'm out of the door. Elena's turned her back at me, leaning against a ventilating machine. I allow some safe distance between us but I can still feel her body radiating waves of heat, want, fear and confusion. The moment she knows I'm standing behind her, I see the back of her head shake lightly in refusal. A ritual it has become lately.

"Don't." She whispers. It's more of a do. We both know it's a do. I said I wouldn't make the first move but that doesn't mean I can't influence her actions just the tiniest bit. Or, at least, try. The breeze is bringing her scent straight in my system and for the first time ever, I'm in loss for words.

"Why not?"

Please, Elena. Please. Just, give in God damn it. Take a freaking chance here.

"Elena…"

Can she hear it? Did she? I call out her name is desperation, need, love, longing, passion, attraction, months of wanting her and being able to do nothing about it.

She shakes her head once more and if I wasn't a vampire, I wouldn't be able to see it or understand it's not a shake showing refusal, but acceptance. What happens next is out of this world. I see Elena turn around and approach me, her eyes having finally surrendered and her body calm, triumphant. I see everything in slow motion, up until the moment her lips crash into mine and her arms find their way to the small of my neck. Elena's kissing me with all her might, no regrets; no holding back.

I can list millions of things making this kiss exceptional for me. I feel everything. I can hear and feel and partly taste her hair in my mouth, along with the curves of her soft lips and the tip of her tongue. My eyes are closed – I don't need them to see neon lights around us and stars above our heads flicker. All that is – natural and human made – goes along with both of us. The wind is moving in synchronization with Elena's hands on my neck and what is more thrilling, this is the first impact of what it feels to really kiss her and it's far from over. The main reason this is exceptional for her is that she has a heartbeat – a beating heart, sending her body in overdrive right now and for that, I would trade every superhuman sense I have.

I keep her body close to mine, my hands strongly clenching her waist. I want all of her now that I can, and the need is killing me. The first moment she breaks free, looking for air, I kiss her again, afraid it will all be over. She welcomes my mouth, opening hers in hunger and lets my tongue fully in. I feel my insides tremble with pleasure and I press all of our bodies' lengths together. Elena wants the same – her hands on my back press my bare chest on her and she stands on her tiptoes, trying to lever her face with mine, show she's into this as much as I am. I take some steps forward, her body in my arms, too unstable to move on its own. We crash on a wall and I forget everything – where we are, what we're doing and the consequences of our actions. We both hold on the cold cement behind us the moment our bodies – now one closed system really – make first impact with the wall, unsteady and probably feeling the natural need to move all of this on a bed.

Every time I give her a chance to breathe now, she pulls my mouth back on hers in the instant, as if it is the lack of contact leaving her breathless rather than having too much of it. I let things take their natural stroll as I follow my every need and move my mouth behind her ear, just below her jaw, all along her neckline; I reach the chest I was so heavily craving only five minutes ago and the feel of her heated skin on my lips makes it clear that if she doesn't stop me, I won't be able to keep myself under control. Fuck the consequences. It looks like she's gotten really good at reading me, if not my mind, because she takes my face in her hands the moment I'm dangerously close to her breasts and pulls it upwards. I feel a pinch of panic at the thought of this being over. She can't let this be over. We gaze at each and it seems ironic, that the sole part of us not touching is the exact same part connecting us more fiercely than ever. Her eyes agree with mine, reassure me that I'm no longer alone with my wants and needs – that she finally knows there are things fare more important than safety and compassion. Things such as passion and recklessness and living life to the fullest, exploring every option, taking nothing for granted, allowing your heart decide what's best. And with that, our mouths are in collision again.

If anything, I want Elena to know that the ultimate thing I've learned throughout all these years is that the heart is to be taken seriously, because in the end it will take what it craves.

The thought creeps in my head, slowly, seductively, as I'm hungrily kissing her for what seems forever and yet, barely long enough, and plants itself in my head, putting me in a blissful state of hope. Neither one of us is thinking of ending this. My right hand is on her left hip now and as I reach for her back, my palm fully cups her behind, bringing her body higher and closer to me. She doesn't flinch when I touch her there, she doesn't gasp or try to break free – she keeps going, while her fingers trace patterns on my back. The thought blossoms and I feel the tightness in my pants at the prospect of this going further than I could ever dream of.

"Elena?"

The moment Elena's mouth leaves mine, I ask myself why I ever felt relieved Jeremy Gilbert was wearing his immortality ring the night I snapped his neck. Will Elena hate me forever if I kill him now? Well, I did once and she found it in herself to forgive me. Maybe…

"Oh my God, Jeremy, I…"

She's tongue-tied as one hand rests on my chest, confirming the distance that now aches between us and another smoothes her hair and cardigan into place. One of mines is still cupping her cheek and while this is all very awkward between them, I find myself torn between the desire to kill Jeremy and the need to start kissing her again. I can't kiss her again though. Reality's back full force, so I put my mask on and turn my back to her. My shirt is still yanking open and Jeremy's face is highly disturbed as he averts his stare from both of us. Not that I expected the little brother I've bullied, scared, kidnapped and tried to kill to like me. Maybe if I find him a proper girlfriend…

"Rose found Mary. She lives in Kansas. "He states while looking inside the motel room.

"Ok then, let's go."

I throw one last sideway glance at Elena, who is now holding her body with her own folded arms and move inside, passing right next to Jeremy. I shoot him a deadly look, hoping he realizes how lucky he is to be alive right now - having Elena as a sister comes handy to him.

He follows me inside after scolding her with, what I guess is, a how-could-you-glare from a teenager who knows nothing of the world and neither one of us gets to see the small smile playing on Elena's lips as she's left alone after what seemed to be the beginning of something new.