Out of touch.

Refreshing, soft air crawled in through the open window, as Damon and Elena stood by it, a slight distance apart. The smoke from their cigarettes was stubbornly blown into the room rather than outside. A lonely streetlight was the only source of light outside at a little past two o'clock in the morning.

"What did you think of the evening?"

"I liked it,"

"Somehow I didn't hear too much enthusiasm in your voice," Damon laughed.

"No, really. I think I'm just tired,"

"How tired?" He came up to her, throwing his cigarette in the ashtray. His hands pushed her against the wall and lifted up her skirt.

"Not that tired,"

Elena's lips touched his, feeling goose bumps form all down her arms. Sirens and blue lights passed by the window, as they both fell on her bed. Damon undressed her, before taking off his trousers, as Elena sensed her heartbeat increase by the second. He turned her around on her stomach, placing kisses on her skin from her neck down to the small of her back. His body was heavy upon hers as he slid into her, moving slowly, making Elena reach for the bedpost.

"Do you want me to do it stronger?" Damon whispered in her ear, pulling her hair back.

"Yes,"

The bed began to move with the strength of Damon's movement. He was holding her hair in his hand, which Elena found slightly painful, but it quickly became something she enjoyed. His other hand dug into her waist as he held her and as Elena felt him coming, she placed her hand on his, holding it tightly. He quickly turned her around and used his tongue to make her come.

They fell asleep in each other's arms, something Damon said he had not done with anyone for a while.

/

By the sound of the morning news coming from the radio Elena made coffee and eggs with toast. Damon was still asleep as she brought them in. The serenity which he represented at that moment was something Elena did not want to disturb. She quietly climbed back into bed and got into the nook under his arm. Even these careful movements were enough to awake him, so that he pulled her closer and, placing a kiss on the top of her head, whispered; "Good morning,".

"Morning,"

"The sun is awfully bright," He shielded his eyes from the bright wave of light coming from the window.

"Count your blessings, at least it's sunny,"

"True. Breakfast sounds like a good idea. I do actually feel like we drank until three in the morning,"

"I made breakfast and I'm with you on that,"

"Aw, you're too nice,"

Elena's head was aching painfully, but she did not want to show it. They ate their breakfast while flipping through the newspaper she had also brought in. Despite having no appetite but rather a strong desire to just rely on coffee, she pulled through like a champion and felt glad that she had afterwards. Once again she became aware how distant Damon seemed now that everything was laid bare in the morning light and there was no alcohol to make them both chipper. It seemed that silence was bound to ensue whenever they were both sober and that somehow they could not really function together outside party nights. These thoughts did not help Elena's hangover and more than just that, she simply refused to believe them.

"Any plans today?"

"Nope," Damon said and looked at her, "You?"

"No, I'm free,"

"Why don't we go to a museum or something?"

"Somehow, I never thought you'd propose something like that,"

"Why? I'm intellectual enough,"

"Not what I was trying to say,"

"Also, I used to paint, so art is still something I really enjoy,"

"Used to?" Elena raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Creativity is a funny thing. It can just disappear one day,"

"Were you any good?" Damon laughed at the question.

"I hope I was. Not likely though. Then again some people thought I was, since they actually paid money for the paintings. Also had a few shows at galleries here and there,"

"That sounds serious,"

"It was for a while. I loved pretending to be this edgy painter, then it kind of all went away,"

"Your look suits that stereotype," Damon bowed slightly before laughing, "Have you ever thought about trying to get back into painting?"

"Of course. I kept all my stuff and I've even gone as far as buying paint, making frames and such, but if you're not really inspired then there's nothing you can do,"

"What's your style?"

"Abstract mostly. That's how Enzo and I became friends. We were both doing the same thing and so we just decided to stroke each other's ego until that turned into an actual friendship,"

Damon lay back down in bed and reached out to pull Elena next to him.

"So how about you? Any creative talents I should know about?"

"Not really. I used to write, but that was just awful,"

"Why?"

"It was all shitty poetry that could hardly even be called poetry. I only wrote in free verse and it was basically just my thoughts in the form of a poem,"

"That's something I'd like to read?"

"Why? I didn't really advertise it very well,"

"I'd just like to know what's going on in your mind, Elena," Damon stroked a hair away from her face, "You don't say very much,"

"I have a feeling that you've already pointed that out,"

"Does it upset you that I do?"

"Yes,"

"Why?"

"Because I was in love with someone once, or at least I thought I was, and he told me the same thing, only later adding that it made me seem dull and boring, which is why he didn't want to be with me,"

Elena felt terrible memories rush back with a vengeance, so she just smiled and said, "But this is too much for this hour of the morning,"

"He sounds like a jerk and I would not call you boring,"

"I'm glad to hear that," She smiled, "Should we head out?"

"Not yet," His arms enveloped her, as he placed a kiss on her lips. He threw off the covers as the room was getting warm and placed himself on top of her. Elena placed little kisses on his shoulders, before lightly biting into his skin. They made love in the brightly lit bed surrounded by the smell of coffee and yesterday's cigarettes.

As Damon was getting dressed, he noticed Elena's photo album sitting on the shelf next to him.

"Please tell me this is full of embarrassing childhood photos,"

"Not really," Before Elena could tell him not to look at it, Damon was already flipping through the pages.

"Well weren't you cute," He raised his eyes to meet hers, "Of course, you're still cute now,"

Elena could tell the moment when he turned to a page with Stefan. His eyes remained the same, but he let out a little chuckle.

"You looked like a nice couple,"

"Damon,"

"Why did it not work out?"

"We were too different,"

"Very vague, very mysterious," He smiled, "My brother was not the one who told you that you were boring, was he? Because that would just be ironic,"

"No, it wasn't him,"

"Will you ever tell me anything, Elena?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm kind of starting to feel like, I'm telling you all my past woes, while you're just hiding it all away,"

"I remember you saying that talking about personal things was not really something you were into, so you should understand someone who feels the same way,"

"The difference is that you never made any such disclaimer," Damon put the photo album away, "Let's go out. I need fresh air,"

The museum was quite a walk away, so they passed through most of the midday crowd of people going for lunch, since while for Damon and Elena it was still morning, for the rest of the world it was another busy day at work. The air was slightly smoggy and smothering, almost yearning for rain, while not a cloud was to be seen in the sky. Yet Elena knew that by the time they left the museum the streets would be covered in puddles and they would have to hide from the rain. The contemporary art museum was in a massive but otherwise unremarkable building. Once they were inside and had paid for the tickets, Damon told her that he had been meaning to come to this exhibition for a while. When they entered the gallery, she immediately realized why.

To say that it was dark, would be an understatement. The entire exhibition, which was left unexplained and for the viewer to interpret, consisted of World War II era portraits with faces replaced with skulls, a room full of destroyed car engines, representing car crashes, and various busts with latex masks. The eeriness of the exhibition sent chills through Elena, but once again she was surprised at how much she liked it. The concepts were interesting and something she had never seen before, especially since she used to frequent only more pre-modern art museums. As they walked through the rooms, Elena noticed how absorbed Damon was with everything he saw and she felt like while they were there, she did not even exist. Once again, she wrote it off as him being immersed in the pieces before him and not as an insult to her.

Just as Elena had predicted, once they were outside, they encountered rain. They ran to the nearest bar, yet were both soaked to their skin. Damon ordered two whisky's and they went to a table close to an electric heater. The sharp liquid warmed their insides and made Elena pleasantly tipsy.

"What did you think of the exhibition?" She asked.

"I thought it was great. A bit too theatrical maybe, but I enjoyed it,"

"Do you by any chance know the artist?"

"No, but Enzo does. He says he's a shit though," Damon drank the rest of his whisky, "But that can be said about all artists,"

"Even you?"

"Of course. If you haven't noticed, I'm not the greatest person," He laughed.

"You can always try to be,"

"Pff, pointless. You can't change who you are. People don't really change past a certain age,"

"I don't believe that,"

"Good for you. It's a nice thing to not believe,"

"What are your flaws?"

"You're funny Elena. Why would I tell you my flaws, when I'm still somewhat trying to show my best side?"

"Are you?"

"Damn it. I thought I was doing so well," He laughed, "Well, let's just say that I'm very selfish and self-centred,"

"I haven't really noticed that yet,"

"That's because I like you. You're my favourite new person who I'm trying to understand,"

"Is that a warning that this might change?"

"Let's just say, if you can stand me for more than a month, I'll be very surprised. I'm bound to say something that makes you run the other way,"

"Not a very encouraging thing to hear," Elena said, confused as to how to feel about everything Damon was saying.

"At least it's honest,"

"Hmm, honesty. I used to think it was a good thing, but then I realized that many people abuse it and hide behind that word as an excuse,"

"True. I don't want to be that way though. I just say what I think,"

The sound of rain against the window filled the silence between them. Damon did not seem fazed by their conversation, while Elena did not know what to think. She was not upset by it, but it made her very worried that she was just a phase in Damon's life. And she knew that she could not go through the heartbreak if that would turn out to be true. The problem was that she was already far too attached and she liked him too much, to end this now, before she delved even deeper into the feelings that were already there.

They left the bar as the rain had turned to a drizzle. They had agreed to go each to their own place, as Elena had to study. Damon gave Elena a hug and kissed her.

"Damon, can I have your number?"

"Yes, of course. I thought I'd already given it to you," He wrote it down on a piece of paper.

"See you later this week?"

"Yes," Damon said as he gave her another hug, before walking away. As she saw him walk away, she realized that she had just asked for his number mindlessly, without even controlling herself. Her heart had told her to do that, just in case she should want to call him, because she was afraid of once again having to wait too long before seeing him again. Rushing home, Damon's words would not leave Elena's thoughts, so that once she was back in the warmth of her room, she began to cry. Not really knowing why, but feeling like whatever they had was bound to come to a sad end.

/

Two days later, Elena had not received a call from Damon. She tried to think of anything else, but he was always there at the back of her mind. Every book she read for her exams made no sense and her notes were all over the place. Too much coffee only added to the anxiousness and very little sleep meant that she spent the entire night thinking only of him and how to change the dynamic that they had created. On the third day, Elena decided to call him herself. After two attempts Damon finally answered.

"Hey, it's Elena,"

"Hi. How are you?"

"Good, I'm good. You?"

"Yeah me too,"

"I was wondering, do you want to go for drinks tonight?"

"I'm not feeling too well. I feel a cold coming on. But I'll call you later in the afternoon and let you know, ok?"

"Ok, great. I'm sorry to hear you're not well though,"

"I'll survive. 'til later!"

Once Elena hung up, excitement overtook her. She tried to study, but the thought of possibly seeing Damon later worked on her like a drug, making her mind all hazy. When it came to seven o'clock and he had still not called, she began to worry. When it was already nine o'clock, Elena realized he was not going to call at all. To make it less awkward, she once again called him herself. Damon answered and apologized for not calling, but told her that he was feeling horrible. She told him that it was fine, that that was what she thought had happened. He told her that he would call the following day.

Needless to say, that the following day Elena's nerves were once again on edge as she could think of nothing else but Damon calling. He never did, nor the next day. Three days later, as Elena returned from the library, she finally found a voice message from him. All he asked was how she was doing. She decided to call him back later that evening. Elena made lunch, studied some more, cleaned her room, changed her sheets and smoked a cigarette. She did everything to avoid calling him back immediately, yet while it was a means of trying to control herself it did not change the fact that she thought of nothing but him while doing all of those things. Finally, she allowed herself to call him.

"Hello?"

"It's Elena,"

"Hi! How are things?"

"Great. I've been very productive today,"

"That's good,"

"What about you?"

"I haven't been productive at all. But otherwise, life is good,"

"What have you been up to?"

"Not much. Seeing a few friends," She could hear Damon hesitate, "Listen, the reason I'm calling you is because I just wanted to say that I'll be away for a week or so. I'm going to London,"

"Oh, that sounds fun," Was all Elena could say. She had been ready to propose drinks again, but that went out of the window.

"Yeah, I hope it will be. I'll see you when I get back, ok?"

"Ok! Have a lovely time while you're there,"

"I will. It's bound to be a blast. Talk to you soon. Bye,"

"Bye," They hung up and Elena sat down on the bed, speechless and broken. She did not mind that he was going away, but the fact that they had not seen each other for a week and would not see each other for another week or maybe more crushed all the little fantasies that had filled her mind throughout these days. If this was what Damon considered a relationship, Elena was not sure that she wanted to be a part of it. Yet she still felt too weak to give up on it. What confused her the most was that everything had seemed fine and she had felt hope it all actually working out. Now it was all gone.

The week that followed was the most awful time that Elena had experienced in her depression. Every time she would try to study, she would give up after a few minutes. She would make food only to throw it away later, hidden in small plastic bags. The only thing she did consume was coffee and wine, but the quantities she drank made her head hurt. Caroline called twice to try to get her to come along to some events, but Elena did not feel like she wanted to leave the house, except to go to the store. Especially since she would have to see Caroline and Enzo together, who, based on what Caroline had said, were happier than a pair of clams. Elena tried to subtly tell her that Enzo may not be such a nice guy, basing this off Damon, but Caroline did not want to listen to that. Elena's heart broke when she imagined that she might have accidentally set Caroline up with someone who might hurt her again.

When around twelve days had passed since Elena had last spoken to Damon, she took it upon herself to try and call him, to check if he was back. To her surprise, he answered.

"How was London?"

"London was brutal. I need to sleep for like a week. I met a lot of old friends and let's just say that they really know the party scene there. How are you doing? Been up to much?"

"I'm fine," Elena said, as her eyes passed over the mess in her room, the three empty coffee cups right in front of her and the once white windowsill which was now littered with ashes, "I've just been studying. Went out a few times too,"

"Sounds good,"

"Do you want to go to a concert tonight?" Elena knew that there was something on at a place she used to go to with Stefan.

"Sorry not tonight, I'm still burnt out from London," Elena must have paused for too long, since he continued, "Maybe let's do tomorrow night. I was planning to meet up with some friends, but they haven't confirmed anything yet,"

"That would work!"

"Great, I'll call you tomorrow,"

When Damon hung up, Elena broke out in tears. She hated herself more by the minute, but there was something in her mind eating away at her self-control. She loathed herself for being so reliant on someone who she did not truly know, on someone who would never truly respect her. She hated her depression, she hated the fact that she had begun cutting again the day before, but most of all she hated herself for still loving Damon.

He did call the following day, only to tell her that he would see his friends, but that they could meet the next day around noon for a walk through another nearby cemetery. Elena's jumped at the thought of him actually coming up with a plan, so she spent the rest of the day in a happy mood, actually trying to get back to her studies and trying to get herself back together.

The next day at eleven thirty, just as she was dressed and ready to go out, the phone rang. She answered unwillingly.

"Hey. Maybe agreeing to meet at noon was a bit too optimistic. Can we do one instead?"

"Hi. Sure, ok, that's fine,"

"See you then," Elena thought about it. She might just as well have already left her room and not answered the phone, so then she would have had to wait for him outside, since he would definitely be extremely late, not knowing what had happened and if he would show up. This seemed like the last straw.

When they met, and begun to walk through the paths of the cemetery while he told her vague stories of London, Elena looked at him and in that moment, she knew that he did not even want to be there. There was no enthusiasm in him. To an outsider it would seem that she had taken him there against his will. Elena's heart sank with sadness and hopelessness and while she tried not to show it, her face was an open book. They walked to edge of the cemetery and while Elena looked at the view of the nearby neighbourhood, Damon had his back turned to it. Damon started to walk away, assuming Elena would do the same, as she said,

"Cool poster," The poster was a minimalist drawing for an upcoming film.

"I don't give a fuck to be honest,"

Elena had not expected excitement, but this was a reply that exceeded her wildest imagination. She looked at Damon as he turned back to her and realized that he was not even trying to start an argument. He just really did not care. She meant nothing to him.

"I'm going home,"

"Why?"

"Seriously?" Elena scoffed. His ignorance and nonchalant look made her boil with anger, but since she was on the verge of tears, she knew that she had to leave the situation quickly. He would not see her cry. Elena just kept walking towards the exit, both hoping and dreading that he would follow her. He did not. When she was far enough away from the cemetery, she began to run and she ran all the way home, trying to outrun every single thought that was connected to Damon.