InsaneJournal

Prompt: Yellow/Damon Salvatore & Elena Gilbert
Request By: pacman

request one here



Elena was impatient. It was hot in the car, and startlingly enough, Damon hadn't said anything on the drive so far. Not a single word. And they'd been driving for a good half hour now. Every time she turned on the radio, he turned it off. Crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes slid over to peer at him through a sheet of straight, brown hair. There was a small smile on his face, and one hand was draped over the steering wheel in a maddeningly casual manner. At least, she thought to herself, he didn't look angry, or upset. In fact, if she didn't know Damon as well as she did, she might even say he was...happy.

He pulled onto a side road and kept driving, the road getting rockier as they continued. She laughed nervously. "Is this an elaborate plan for my death, Damon?" she asked sarcastically, and the look he gave her was a withering glare. She hadn't meant it, though--she knew by now that Damon would never.

At last, after the road had gotten a little smoother, he pulled the car over and grinned at her. "Final stop," he said in that silky-smooth voice of his, and hopped out of the car. She stepped out of the car as he did, and a small, awestruck smile crossed her face.

It was a field. A huge, expansive, as-far-as-the-eye-can-see field, and it was completely and utterly taken over with yellow daisies. An airy giggle escaped her lips. "This whole trip was to bring me here?" she asked, eyebrows lifting as she turned towards him. He shrugged a shoulder back, giving her a non-committal look before turning back to the meadow in front of them. But she hadn't missed that subtle look in his eye, the smile on his face.

"I love it," she said, stepping out to dance among the flowers, picking one and tucking it behind her ear. There were butterflies flitting about, and the perfection of the scene nearly killed her. She hadn't felt this lighthearted or so without-a-care in ages. He stood there for a minute, leaning against the hood of his car, arms crossed over his broad chest, content to just watch her enjoy the beauty. Finally, she sat down amongst the flowers, and when she gestured him over, he came.

"It's like being in a fairytale," she said as she lay backwards and stared up at the sky. Wispy cirrus clouds streaked across the bright blue of the sky, and she traced their outlines with a finger. He slumped backwards to lie next to her, watching her finger as it moved across the sky. He heard her turn her face toward him before she even spoke.

"Damon?" she asked, voice soft.

He turned towards her, heart in his throat, shifting onto his elbow. His face was an impassive expression of vague interest. "Yeah."

"Thanks."

He looked down, at the sincerity and apology in her eyes, at the small smile that lifted her lips, the way the yellow daisy was slipping out of her hair. He meant to move it back behind her ear, but he found himself leaning in. Her lashes fluttered and their lips brushed, lightly, in the briefest of touches. And then she was leaning up, and he found her lips again and he couldn't think because for this moment, for this one moment, she was kissing him. For this one moment, in a field of yellow flowers, he had the impossible hope that it wasn't , in fact, always going to be Stefan.