Say You Love Me Damon Salvatore

I felt undeniably stupid. I kept trying to make it better by twisting in impossible directions, giving me a headache. Steph and Kurt would be by to pick me up any minute. Steph and I got our hair done exactly like they were in the magazine, only our hair was much darker than the models’ had been.
I sighed, giving up any hope on looking remotely pretty. It just wasn’t in my nature to look extravagant. I was just too damn plain it killed me. God wonders why I had even one boyfriend….but that’s a long and complicated story.
Then there was the fateful knock on my front door.
Reluctantly I stepped, carefully, down the stairs so I wouldn’t trip over the damn dress. My mom had been on the phone all day, from what seemed like a heated discussion. Whatever it had been about, I think she had won. No one could refuse the principle.
“Okay, Mom, my ride’s here!” I called.
Hard footsteps scampered across the hard wood floor and I could swear there was a tornado coming. My mother was soon by my side.
“Jesus, Mom, what the—“
She smiled brightly—the principle smiling? What was she up to?—interrupting me. “Have fun, dear!”
Before I could react, she literally ran back to her study. Shaking my head dazedly, I opened the door. “Sorry about that—“ My eyes widened in fury. Okay, I’ll have you know it’s not a normal thing for me to do anything girly. But I screamed; a good, loud scream.
He smirked, enjoying my reaction. “Surprise.”
I glared at him with pure hatred. “What the hell are you doing here?!”
“Taking you to prom, obviously,” he said simply, as though talking to a four year old.
I laughed, on the verge of insanity. “Oh, no you’re not!”
He sighed irritably. “I went through a hell of a time with your friend. And I’ll drag you out if I have to.”
Somehow, I believed that. I folded my arms across my chest. “You’re wearing a tux.”
Not very well, I’ll add. But, God don’t tell on me for thinking this, he looked good in it. The pants were baggy and the shirt un-tucked with the top two bottoms undone. His hair was the same. The way I describe it makes him seem sloppy, but it wasn’t. It was actually a relief for me. Almost enough for me to go into his shiny Ferrari willingly. Remember, I did say almost.
“You’re wearing a dress,” he said with that stupid smirk as he looked me up and down.
I glared at him. “Forget it. Tell Steph I’m sorry, I can’t go—“ I began shutting the door.
He put his foot in the door and it didn’t take much to force it back open and snatch my arm. “Tell her yourself. I’m no one’s messenger boy.”
“Let—“ I was about to demand he let go, but he had already yanked—and I mean that literally—me out of the house.
“I’ll carry you to the car,” he warned, having a glint in his black eyes that told me he might actually enjoy that.
I gave up, letting him tow me into the car. I crossed my arms and slouched in my seat begrudgingly.
He got in on the driver’s side, giving me that stupid predatory smirk, before driving off.
I can’t believe I’m going to prom with Damon Salvatore, I moaned inwardly.
“So who put you up to this?” I muttered.
“Myself,” Damon answered simply.
“Sure,” I snorted.
He sighed irritably. “If you must know, it was your friend. Um….What’s Her Name….”
I sat up straight, glaring at him. “Juliet? God damnit, that stupid, bitchy, tramp! I’ll rip her hair out, that low down bitch—“
“Whoa, watch it with the insults,” Damon laughed, though he was obviously enjoying my outbreak. “Not her.”
I stopped. “Stephie put you up to this?.....I don’t believe you….”
“Believe it, sweet heart,” Damon chuckled.
Whatever Damon was, whatever evil thoughts I had of him, I knew he wasn’t lying. And instead of being furious, I was actually sad. Why would Stephie do that to me? She knew how much I hated Damon. Unless……
“God damnit!” I screamed.
Damon stared at me as if I were insane.
I knew my mom had acted weird earlier! She must have convinced Steph to make Damon take me. That was it. It had to be.
Damon pulled into the De La Cray, the fancy hotel that prom was being held at. He made me wait in my seat so he could open my door for me. I felt like punching him in the face.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
He smirked, holding out his arm. He was loving this. God, I hated him.
Reluctantly, I wrapped my arm around his and glared ahead.
“Oh, c’mon, are you going to act like a sour puss the entire time?”
I didn’t answer him.
Damon sighed in annoyance. “You’re the one that’s making this a living hell.”
I raised a brow. “Oh, really? How do you figure?”
His lips her at my ear, making my skin crawl. “Live a little.”
“If it were anyone else….” I grumbled, mostly to myself.
Damon chuckled and didn’t say anything else as we walked in. “Someone said it’s on the top floor,” he walked towards the elevator.
I immediately froze. This hotel had twenty-seven floors! There was no way I was stepping foot in that elevator!
“What?” Damon chuckled.
Suddenly the elevator seemed much, much worse than the pestering Italian. I shook my head frantically, already getting hot at the thought of getting in the elevator to twenty seven floors. “I’m not going in there.”
Damon laughed. “But the prom’s at the top. We have to go in there.”
“No!” I protested, already feeling claustrophobic. “I am not going in that elevator!”
“Olivia, c’mon, you’re making a scene,” Damon muttered, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.
It was the first time he had actually used my name. I shrugged it away, growing panic. “I’m not going in there!”
“Why not?”
I paused, muttering my confession.
“What?” Damon chuckled.
“I’m afraid of elevators, okay? Can we just take the stairs?” I was practically begging. “Please, Damon?”
Damon laughed, a good, loud laugh that made me scowl at him. “Walk twenty seven floors up? You’re crazy!”
“Please,” I pleaded quietly.
Damon stared at me decisively.
“Please,” I repeated, even more quiet than the first time.
Damon groaned. “That is a curse, witch.”
I smiled slightly.
“C’mon,” Damon grumbled, leading me towards the stairs.

I was out of breath by the time we reached the fifteenth floor. Damon seemed perfectly fit. In my determination to escape the evil elevator, I pushed myself further, until Damon ordered me to stop and take a rest.
“Why?” I panted.
“Because you’re melting,” he chuckled, talking perfectly normal while I felt like dying.
“My make-up?”
He nodded.
“Shit,” I mumbled. “How bad?”
“Not that bad. Air conditioning is making it better.”
“Good,” I wheezed. “Damn, this sucks.”
“Your idea,” Damon laughed.
“I know,” I hissed angrily. “And it beats the elevator.”
Damon chuckled. “Can I ask you something?”
I thought for a moment. A question from Damon could be dangerous….But I nodded. “Shoot.”
The corners of his mouth twitched, as though he were trying hard not to laugh. “Why are you…scared of elevators?”
I exploded. “’Cause, what if they just suddenly stop and you’re already twenty floors up?! Then you’re…locked in a…box for God knows how long and then you die of suffocation and---WHAT?!”
Damon had burst into laughter. “Nothing, I just…Never met anyone like you.”
“You mean insanely claustrophobic?” I countered.
Damon paused before nodding. “Yeah, that, among other things.”
“Such as?”
Damon sighed, taking my hand and hauling me to my feet. “Break time’s over.”
I moaned and reluctantly started walking, my calves on fire. I was honest about one thing; I would rather be doing this than going on a stupid elevator. But I would look awfully sweaty and stinky when we actually entered the room. Great. Wait, why did I care? I didn’t even want to go in the first place! But I did want to speak to Steph about this whole Damon arrangement…..