Damon & Elena Fanfiction: A Long Weekend

A Mug Full of Love, Please

This feeling was utterly new to me, and it was the first time that I didn’t know what was next for me, Damon Salvatore, master of the universe.

Love is tricky, I mused, and when you fall in it, you fall in it hard. Blind. Clueless; you have no idea where it’ll take you. But for once in my life I decided I like surprises and just went wherever these feelings took me. My spirits lifted, I began to loosen up and the real Damon came out of his shell. Yes, I was still a cynical and sarcastic vampire, but the difference was that I had a purpose. Elena.

I looked down at the girl who my arm was around, and she smiled up at me, leaning up to place a kiss on my lips. Her lips were soft and fragile and they tasted of vanilla. I like vanilla, I thought, it’s my new favourite flavour. Elena Gilbert tastes of summer and good things to come, with a twist of sophistication and the unknown. I smiled, jeez, I think to myself. I’m back in poetic and soppy mode, but I’m so in love I can’t even be bothered to care. As Elena’s lips caress mine, the hairs on the nape of my neck stand up, and I can’t help but feel that someone is watching us, from where we stand in the motel doorway. I brush all negative thoughts from my mind, and let the tide of love wash over me, and drag me far out of my depth.

The receptionist is a male of about twenty or so, and I can’t help but notice he’s giving Elena the eye. I stare him down, and he gets the message, and I smirk. I’m not normally the jealous type, I think to myself, but I guess I am when it comes to Elena.
            “We’ll take the best room you have, please,” I say, more demanding than asking, as I influence the man before the desk. He sways on the spot, appearing drunk and confused for a moment, before he flashes a toothy smile.
            “Of course, Mr and Mrs -?” I grin, at how he presumes Elena and myself are married, and she notices too, as she gives my hand a squeeze.
            “Salvatore,” I grin. “Mr and Mrs Salvatore.”

We’re shown to the penthouse suite by the overbearing receptionist, and after declining his numerous inquisitions about beverages, and food, Elena and I are finally alone.

“Sooooo,” I begin, a teasing edge to my voice, “That’s one big looking bed,”

“I wonder what we’ll find to do in this room,” Elena continues with the hinting, a smile playing at her perfect face.
            “I know! I mean, look, there’s no TV or anything!” I pretend to act outraged at this fact, and Elena’s smile grows even wider.
            “Well I did say that earlier you need to practise your kissing ability...” Elena trailed off, a spark in her eyes.

            I close the distance in less than a second.

            My lips crash down on hers, searing with heat and passion and unspoken words.

            My hand winds its way down to her waist, cradling her carefully, like she’s a breakable porcelain doll. Because she’s precious; she’s my porcelain doll.

            I feel her hand move up to my head, winding and securing her fingers in my hair, at every millimetre of skin that her fingers touch, I feel the heat sear through me.

            I’m on fire.

            Time stands still, as we stand enveloped in our embrace.

Elena stops, meeting my eyes, only millimetres from hers. My breath; hard and heavy; wafts across her cheeks. There was something about her.  Something that made my pulse jump and my blood race. The way her eyes pinned me to the spot when she caught me looking at her. The way her voice made me shiver in a way it shouldn't. The way she was not Katherine. Elena had been the forbidden fruit for so long now; because she’d been Stefan’s girlfriend, and neither of us wanted a repeat of what happened with Katherine. I felt my body reacting in ways that were so very bad in reference to Elena, and obviously she could tell too, because her intense stare turned into a lazy, self-satisfied grin and she sighed a satisfied sigh as we sank into the folds of the bed sheets.

I could sense Elena hesitating; feeling as if she was on the edge of the precipice, one word, one movement, would send her over. She looked up into my face, with the cocky smile and guarded eyes, and within that moment, I sensed her make her choice.

My lips were on hers in seconds, and the intensity of how I kissed her was so extreme, I think it shocked the both of us, and I found us both gasping for air like fish deprived of water. A growl escaped my throat, and embarrassed, I grinned bashfully as Elena giggled beneath me. Every time our bodies made contact, it felt like we were sparked with live wired, and I found myself barely able to control my actions. Elena rolled over so that she straddled me, and leaning down she peppered me with kisses.

“Pushy,” I grinned, “I like it.” Followed with a wink, I was surprised at how I was even able to get the words out.

"Just, for once," she breathed between kisses, "just shut up and-"

“And what?” I asked, even though I already knew. I’d known back when I saw the resolute glint in her eyes moments before.

“Damon,” she began, her voice wavering, but not with nerves, I thought to myself. “I want you to take my blood.”

At the mention of the word, she was under me before she could breathe, and my hands held her gingerly. As my canines extended, and the veins beneath my eyes became prominent, I looked into her eyes, and was met with not fear, but love.

Pure love.

As my teeth probed her neck, making the incision, she tensed slightly, before succumbing to the feeling of ecstasy which enveloped both of us in a massive wave.

We were drowning in a sea of crimson, but rather than clogging our lungs with fear, we both felt alive, our consciences twisting and interlacing with one another as we became one, love enshrouding us in its red robe.