Damon's POV

"I will hate you until my dying day."

I thought. One casual glance at my brother said it all. He and Elena were still sorting things out, and it killed me to see her heart break. And what breaks a girl's heart more than losing the man she loves most.

Ouch.

The thing is, I'm not the one she lost, so that kind of hurts. Okay, it really hurts. This is what I've been waiting for, the one moment when I knew Elena would be up for grabs. Apparently that meant that not only the people who loved her would be grabbing her.

But I just couldn't do it. I knew this part of my brother, and I knew this Elena. Eventually, she's going to realize that nobody she loves will ever be safe until this is over, and I had the distinct feeling it hadn't even begun. However, no matter how much control I had over myself, that didn't mean it didn't still hurt. As a matter of fact, it was one of the most painful things I had ever experienced, and I'd had a lot of people step right up to stake me, torture me, vervain me. I wanted her. I needed Elena. She was everything I wasn't, and everything my brother deserved.

What did I deserve? What I should have gotten back in 1864. I should be rotting in a grave next to my ashamed father. But here I am, next to the doppelganger of the woman I thought I loved, whom I now love, and the brother who has kept me alive up to this day. Against my will. I should hate him until the day somebody has the grace to kill me once and for all, but all I had was self-loathing, the very thing I'd made fun of Stefan for for decades now.

I should hate myself for wanting Elena. But, strangely, all I feel on the subject of Elena is something I never knew. Not with Katherine. Nobody. I only feel love.

Briana's POV

The door opened.

"Angel!" I called.

We smile at each other.

Everything was all right.

Until he opened his mouth.

"We staked him," he said smugly, throwing his bag on the couch. I blanched, not even bothering to hide it. My stomach jumped into my throat, and for a second, even though I didn't technically need to, I couldn't breath.

"What?" I said quietly, but when he made to speak, I held a hand up. "I heard you. Who did you stake?" This couldn't be happening. I told him explicitly not to piss off anybody. But it's Damon. He has to.

"Some bloke with nice hair-"

"Seriously!" I curled my hands into his leather jacket, but this time in white hot fury. "Who?"

"From what Elena said, she was taken by someone named Rose, but the one who wanted her was Elijah." I shrieked and fell to nearly fell to my knees, but he caught me just before I hit the ground. I was seeing double again, fear twisting me into an unspeakable mess.

"You staked him!" At first, he seemed shocked by my reaction, but it quickly turned to confusion. "I told you not to," my voice broke, "I told you."

"Briana, what's wrong, please!" The worry in his voice made my heart break. I hated and adored the fact that he still cared for me.

"Elijah, he's not dead-"

"What?!" he exclaimed, almost dropping me.

"And now he's going to come for you, pissed more than ever." I stood up, not scared for myself, but for everyone else who had the poor fortune of being in this damn town. I can't believe I'd only stumbled on this town, making fun of its silly name. Fate plays tricks on us all.

"That's impossible. We staked him right to the door-"

"Do you remember what I said about my family being linked to a white Oak tree in the bathroom back at the Grill?" He thought for a moment while I freaked out, nearing collapsing again. I took a deep breath as if it would actually help.

"Vaguely," he muttered and placed me on the couch, grabbing a bottle of Bourbon off the table. I drained the half of it left in one taking.

"Very, very few things can kill an Original. An average stake cannot. A stake of the Oak tree, yes, but it was burned to the ground." I stared at the empty bottle, seeing that Damon would need it more than me. Oh well, he probably have more in the liquor cabinet. I placed a hand on either side of his face, staring deeply into his half silver, half icy blue eyes. They lingered on gray right now. "He's coming back, Angelface, and now he's angry. Hide yourself, because your not going to have much time once my brother knows what he's going to do with you. And Elijah was always one to make up his mind quickly."

* * * * *

Damon's POV

I called Stefan, and then ran to Elena's house just to make sure she knew I was still there. Gave her her necklace. Heartfelt moment. Sweet. But I would rather not think about it, because I knew she didn't care that way for me. I would rather not dwell on the fact that every moment with her hurt just a little more.

In a minute, I was back at my own door, opening it, and sighing into the familiar scent of the boarding house. Through the century, this had became one of my favorite places. There was the sound of a shower running upstairs. For a second, I ignored it, but as I came closer to my rather bare room, it became louder. I knew for a fact that when someone was in my shower, it usually didn't turn out to be someone that I liked, or could trust. But once I opened the door, I knew that both things were true of this woman. Bloodred hair, body like a ballet dancer, and eyes more fiery than a lioness' amber irises. A wicked grin lit up her face as she turned, looking at me with something I could place, water running down every glorious part of her body.

She cranked the water off, roped of steam snaking out of the shower, and she walked out with them. Mist slithered around her legs, perfect ivory skin that made me grin. A moment through, she only stared at me, up and down, with a surprisingly wise, searching look. And then she ran a hand through her cropped, shoulder-length waves and her sharp, heated expression returned. The corners of her sensual red lips pulled up, and she took one lithe step towards me.

"Damon," Briana said, and despite her nude body, I had no trouble focusing on her face. She was the angel. "A robe, please?" It took me a bit to answer.

"I don't think that's necessary." I hoped she wouldn't think it was. I was having trouble not taking her right then and now. A laugh like the peal of a bell echoed around my spacious room, her face contorting into something of a care-free, joyous young thing.

"Hmm, now that's interesting," she eyed the towels resting on the shelf across the room, "this is an old house. My shower's broke."

"How unfortunate," I hissed, and she made a run for them, leaving a puddle of water the whipping image of a sprinting girl behind her. But I was too fast. I ended up squarely in front of her, her naked breasts presses up against my shirt, soaking it through.

"I let you win that," she whispered, matching my endless gaze. I could finally place that expression she'd had: relief. That of a woman so stress she felt pulled taut, and who had finally let it all go, careless and free to run and just not care. How... strange. For someone who should be at the peak of her worry. Maybe she'd already hit the peak and jumped right off the edge, and this was her plummeting. I liked it.

"Well, then," I said softly, our lips mere centimeters away, "I guess you were expecting this."

And I kissed her.

It wasn't soft, not at all. It was urgent, like the world was dwindling away and we had to have each other once more before we all turned to dust. My tongue on her lips, our lips moving in sweet synchronicity, her fingers ripping off my jacket, working at the buttons of my shirt, before finally settling for ripping it open, a couple buttons scattering across the room.

"What's with the sudden change of heart?" I murmured against her lips as she undid the latch on my dark pants.

"Call it urgency," she responded, and pulled me and the one thing I had on left- my boxers- towards the bad.

"To do..?" A curious emotion was building up inside of me, making me look at her like she'd been kicked out of heaven instead of sentenced to hell.

"Live." She pulled me down with her, her hair flowing out around her on my pillow, "Before I have to die."

So we would live. And I could recognize that emotion now, but I would never admit it. Because it was the forbidden word.

Love.