"You have got to be kidding me," she said aloud.
Elena was shaking so hard that Damon was afraid she might just shake herself apart. He wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, and she glanced up at him without real y seeming to see him, her eyes glassy.
"Stefan..." she moaned softly, and Damon had to fight down a sharp stab of irritation. So Stefan was overreacting.
What else was new? Damon was here, Damon was with her and supporting her, and Elena needed to realize that.
He was tempted to grab Elena firmly by the chin and make her real y look at him.
In the old days, he would have done just that. Hel , in the old days, he would have sent a blast of Power at Elena until she was docile in his hands, until she didn't even remember Stefan's name. His canines prickled longingly just thinking of it. Her blood was like wine.
Not that expecting Elena to give in to his Power meekly had ever worked particularly Well, he admitted to himself, his mouth curling into a smile.
But he wasn't like that anymore. And he didn't want her that way. He was trying so hard, although he hated to admit it even to himself, to be worthy of Elena. To be worthy of Stefan, even, if it came right down to it. It had been comforting to final y have his baby brother looking at him with something other than hatred and disgust.
Well, that was over. The tentative truce, the beginnings of friendship, the brotherhood, whatever it had been between him and Stefan, was gone.
"Come on, princess," he murmured to Elena, helping her up the stairs toward her door. "Just a little farther." He couldn't be sorry they kissed. She was so beautiful, so alive and vibrant in his arms. And she tasted so good.
And he loved her, he did, as far as his hard heart was capable of it. His mouth curled again, and he could taste his own bitterness. Elena was never going to be his, was she? Even when Stefan turned his back on her, the self-righteous idiot, he was al she thought about. Damon's free hand, the one that wasn't cupping Elena's shoulder protectively, tightened into a fist.
They'd reached Elena's room, and Damon fished in her purse for her keys, unlocking the door for her.
"Damon," she said, turning in the doorway to look him straight in the eyes for the first time since before Stefan caught them kissing. She looked pale stil , but resolute, her mouth a straight line. "Damon, it was a mistake." Damon's heart dropped like a stone, but he held her gaze. "I know," he said, his voice steady. "Everything wil work out in the end, princess, you'l see." He forced his lips to turn up in a reassuring, supportive smile. The smile of a friend.
Then Elena was gone, the door to her room shutting firmly behind her.
Damon spun in his tracks, cursing, and kicked at the wal behind him. It cracked, and he kicked it again with a sour satisfaction at the feeling of the plaster splitting.
There was a muted grumbling coming from behind the other doors on the floor, and Damon could hear footsteps approaching, someone coming to investigate the noise. If he had to deal with anyone now, he'd probably kil him. That wouldn't be a good idea, no matter how much he might enjoy it for the moment, not with Elena right here.
Launching himself toward an open hal window, Damon smoothly transitioned to a crow in midair. It was a relief to stretch his wings, to pick up the rhythm of flying and feel the breeze against his feathers, lifting and supporting him. He flew through the window with a few strong beats of his wings and flung himself out into the night. Catching the wind, he soared recklessly high despite the darkness of the night. He needed the rush of the wind against his body, needed the distraction.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dear Diary,
I can't believe what a fool I am, what a faithless, worthless fool.
I should never have kissed Damon, or let him kiss me.
The look on Stefan's face when he found us was heartbreaking. His features were so stiff and pale, as if he was made of ice, and his eyes were shining with tears. And then it seemed like a light went out inside him, and he looked at me like he hated me.
Like I was Katherine. No matter what happened between us, Stefan never looked at me like that before.
I won't believe it. Stefan could never hate me.
Every beat of my heart tells me that we belong together, that nothing can tear us apart.
I've been such a fool, and I've hurt Stefan, although that was the one thing I never wanted to do. But this isn't the end for us. Once I apologize and explain what a moment of madness he witnessed, he'll forgive me. Once I can touch him again, he'll see how sorry I am.
It was only the adrenaline from coming so close to death, from that car chasing after us. Neither Damon nor I really wanted the other one, that kiss was just us clinging hard to life.
No. I can't lie. Not here. I have to be honest with myself, even if I pretend with everyone else. I wanted to kiss Damon. I wanted to touch Damon. I always have.
But I don't have to. I can stop myself, and I will. I don't want to cause Stefan any more pain.
Stefan will understand that, will understand that I'll do anything I can to make him happy again, and then he'll forgive me.
This can't be the end. I won't let it be.
Elena closed her journal and dialed Stefan's number once more, letting the phone ring until it went to voicemail and then hanging up. She'd cal ed him several times last night, then over and over again this morning. Stefan could see her cal ing, she knew. He always kept his phone on. He always answered, too; he seemed to feel some obligation to be available since he had the phone with him.
The fact that he wasn't answering meant he was avoiding her on purpose.
Elena shook her head fiercely and dialed again. Stefan was going to listen to her. She wasn't going to let him turn her away. Once she explained and he forgave her, everything could go back to normal. They could end this separation that was making them both so unhappy - clearly, it hadn't worked out the way she intended.