The Awakening

"That’s why you’ve been so distant with me, isn’t it?" she said, holding out her hands to him. "Because you’re afraid of what you might do. But there’s no need for that any longer." 

"Isn’t there ?" He was breathing quickly again, and he eyed her outstretched hands as if they were two snakes. "You think there’s no reason to be afraid? Damon may have attacked those people, but he doesn’t control my thoughts. And you don’t know what I’ve thought about you." 

Elena kept her voice level. "You don’t want to hurt me," she said positively.

"No? There have been times, watching you in public, when I could scarcely bear not to touch you. When I was so tempted by your white throat, your little white throat with the faint blue veins beneath the skin…" His eyes were fixed on her neck in a way that reminded her of Damon’s eyes, and she felt her heartbeat step up. "Times when I thought I would grab you and force you right there in the school." 

"There’s no need to force me," said Elena. She could feel her pulse everywhere now; in her wrists and the inside of her elbows-and in her throat. "I’ve made my decision, Stefan," she said softly, holding his eyes. "I want to." 

He swallowed thickly. "You don’t know what you’re asking for." "I think Ido . You told me how it was with Katherine, Stefan. I want it to be like that with us. I don’t mean I want you to change me. But we can share a little without that happening, can’t we? I know," she added, even more softly, "how much you loved Katherine. But she’s gone now, and I’m here. And I love you, Stefan. I want to be with you." 

"You don’t know what you’re talking about!" He was standing rigid, his face furious, his eyes anguished. "If I once let go, what’s tokeep me from changing you, or killing you? The passion is stronger than you can imagine. Don’t you understand yet what I am, what I can do?" 

She stood there and looked at him quietly, her chin raised slightly. It seemed to enrage him.

"Haven’t you seen enough yet? Or do I have to show you more? Can’t you picture what I might do to you?" He strode over to the cold fireplace and snatched out a long piece of wood, thicker than both Elena’s wrists together. With one motion, he snapped it in two like a match stick. "Yourfragile bones," he said.

Across the room was a pillow from the bed; he caught it up and with a slash of his nails left the silk cover in ribbons. "Yoursoft skin." Then he moved toward Elena with preternatural quickness; he was there and had hold of her shoulders before she knew what was happening. He scared into her face a moment, then, with a savage hiss that raised the hairs at the nape of her neck, drew his lips back.

It was the same snarl she’d seen on the roof, those white teeth bared, the canines grown to unbelievable length and sharpness. They were the fangs of a predator, a hunter. "Your white neck," he said in a distorted voice.

Elena stood paralyzed another instant, gazing as if compelled into that chilling visage, and then something deep in her unconscious took over. She reached up within the restraining circle of his arms and caught his face between her two hands. His cheeks were cool against her palms. She held him that way, softly, so softly, as if to reprove his hard grip on her bare shoulders. And she saw the confusion slowly come to his face, as he realized she was not doing it to fight him or to shove him away.

Elena waited until that confusion reached his eyes, shattering his gaze, becoming almost a look of pleading. She knew that her own face was fearless, soft yet intense, her lips slightly parted. They were both breathing quickly now, together, in rhythm. Elena could feel it when he started to shake, trembling as he had when the memories of Katherine had become too much to bear. Then, very gently and deliberately, she drew that snarling mouth down to her own.

He tried to oppose her. But her gentleness was stronger than all his inhuman strength. She shut her eyes and thought only of Stefan, not of the dreadful things she had learned tonight but of Stefan, who had stroked her hair as lightly as if she might break in his hands. She thought of that, and she kissed the predatory mouth that had threatened her a few minutes ago.

She felt the change, the transformation in his mouth as he yielded, responding helplessly to her, meeting her soft kisses with equal softness. She felt the shudder go through Stefan’s body as the hard grip on her shoulders softened, too, becoming an embrace. And she knew she’d won.

"You will never hurt me," she whispered.

It was as if they were kissing away all the fear and desolation and loneliness inside them. Elena felt passion surge through her like summer lightning, and she could sense the answering passion in Stefan. But infusing everything else was a gentleness almost frightening in its intensity. There was no need for haste or roughness, Elena thought as Stefan gently guided her to sit down.

Gradually, the kisses grew more urgent, and Elena felt the summer lightning flicker all through her body, charging it, making her heart pound and her breath catch. It made her feel strangely soft and dizzy, made her shut her eyes and let her head fall back in abandon.

It’s time, Stefan, she thought. And, very gently, she drew his mouth down again, this time to her throat. She felt his lips graze her skin, felt his breath warm and cool at once. Then she felt the sharp sting.

But the pain faded almost instantly. It was replaced by a feeling of pleasure that made her tremble. A great rushing sweetness filled her, flowing through her to Stefan.

At last she found herself gazing into his face, into a face that at last had no barriers against her, no walls. And the look she saw there made her feel weak.

"Do you trust me?" he whispered. And when she simply nodded, he held her eyes and reached for something beside the bed. It was the dagger. She regarded it without fear, and then fixed her eyes again on his face.