Damon nor you had never been more crazily, genuinely, fucking in love with someone as much as you did each other— oh, it ran through your very veins, clouded your words, thoughts, mind, so much that he was now your crutch and you his. Just one small problem, and that was Elena being your best friend and Damon’s ex, which forced you to say no even though you really wanted to say ‘fuck it’ and jump his bones, his Cheshire grin, teasing words, the way he looked at you.

You’d walked away from him after he confessed his feelings— fucking finally, but no, it couldn’t happen, because there was still Elena. Still Elena, still the threat of losing a friend — a friend in the way — but a friend nonetheless.

“Don’t walk— come on, if I confess how much I wanna fuck you I at least expect an answer.” Damon’s voice rang out so clearly and it stopped you in your tracks, obviously. You just couldn’t stay away. It’s times like these when you really curse the existence of oxytocin in the human body. Shit.

“Shh,” He shushed any protest, and within a second, he was in front of you, one finger tipping your chin up— fuck, the other smoothing down over your ass and gripping the back of your thigh. “Just say why.”

Could you hold on much longer? No, definitely not, and you didn’t know if you wanted to.