No Strings Attached

Day 270

            As Elena's adding cream her phone beeps with a new message. She can't help but look, her chest tightening painfully when she sees Dean's name light up the screen. For a moment Elena considers ignoring it, contemplating the possibility of him giving up on her, but in the end she lifts the phone to her ear and closes her eyes as she listens.

            "I meant what I said yesterday, Lena. I've thought about it since the moment I laid eyes on you at that bar. And god I hope you've thought about it too..." There's a sudden pause, the sound of his ragged breathing echoing in Elena's skull and her heart pounds. "I'm at the café. I'll be here until closing time. I can't stay in this town, not if you choose him, sweetheart... So choose me. I will love you until the day I die if you let me. Just come to the café. We can throw a pin at a dartboard and just go. Choose me."

            Elena jerks the phone away from her ear, her stomach churning with fresh nausea. She quickly finishes making the coffee, jaw clenched so tightly she's shaking. The new sensation is overwhelming, flooding her system and almost crippling her. Shoving it down as best she can, Elena quickly snaps the lid on her coffee and returns to the hospital room. She takes her first sip once she reaches the proper hallway, choking on the hot drink when she reaches the threshold.

            "Damon," she whispers, drawing his eyes away from the window. He's sitting up in bed, his eyes only slightly dazed from the painkillers. His pale skin has regained some of its original color and he doesn't look as clammy as he did the last time he was awake. The doctor in Elena smiles, recognizing the signs of a recovering patient. "You're awake."

            "And feeling much better," Damon says, nodding to himself as she fully enters the room.

            Elena flounders for something to say, and she finally comes up with "I would've gotten you coffee if I'd known you would wake up so soon. I can go back and get some if you'd—"

            "It's alright," Damon assures her, smiling when she nods and sits down in the chair next to his bed. He took her presence as a sign that whatever drama she had experienced yesterday was long over and it was his turn to get back into her life. "We have a lot to talk about."

            "I know," Elena mutters, slowly sipping her coffee to distract herself from the current situation. Her hand returns to her side, gingerly poking at the new bruise Dean caused.

            "I don't want to keep moving forward until we figure this out," Damon tells her, taking her free hand. Elena lets him, watching their fingers intertwine numbly. "So I forgive you."

            "What?" Elena looks up at him, startled.

            "I forgive you," Dean repeats, nodding to affirm his statement. "For sleeping with him. For letting him get into your head and convince you it was love. It wasn't your fault, so I forgive you." Elena doesn't say anything, just stares at him in disbelief. Frowning, Damon continues his convincing. "Dean is a twisted man, Elena. He used you for his own gain."

            "Yeah," Elena resigns, swallowing hard around the fictitious blue water filling her lungs.

            "You don't really love him. You must know that," Damon says, causing Elena to pause. "Sex isn't love, Elena. A man like that doesn't understand..." Damon continues to speak, but Elena is no longer listening.

            The change hits her like a truck, clean air knocking into her and sinking into her skin. It's like the fog has lifted, the water draining from her body as Elena watches the world move around her. Every green aspect of the room seems to glow, radiating warmth and comfort as the blue sorrow shrinks to nothing. She'd never felt so free—not before Damon became cold, not that first night with Dean, not in the motel room only days prior. The string tethering her to Damon dissolves, the remaining strings in her body tugging her toward a small café on the other side of town.