My first Vampire Diaries story! I'm quite excited. This is just a little bit of hope to get us Delena shippers through the hiatus. Things aren't exactly great between them at the moment (that's quite an understatement) and I know some people are losing hope. So we're going back to the night everything fell apart. Hope this cheers people up, because writing it certainly cheered me up.
A Gleam of Hope
His evening does not begin until she walks in.
He knew that she would be coming – whether or not she was supposed to – but he hasn't anticipated just how damn stunning she would look in her ball gown, and he sure as hell hasn't anticipated that the sight of her - the determined look on her face, the way she scans the room with anxiety and resignation, and especially the way she immediately looks for him - would tie his stomach in exasperated, infatuated knots. He should have anticipated it, though. He should be used to it by now. After all, it pretty much happens every time they're in the same room.
He looks at her, this brave, beautiful idiot whom he would destroy himself for, and he knows that he will never stop loving her.
He knows that she is going to do something stupid, and put her own life in danger. He knows that he'll probably end up having to save her ass. He knows that they'll argue and the sparks will fly and she will shiver at the heat between them. He knows that she probably won't end up in his arms tonight, or the next night, or the next.
But that doesn't mean he gives up. That doesn't mean he stops hoping. Because there is another thing that Damon Salvatore knows about Elena Gilbert. Their feelings for each other might change, but they will never die. The threads binding them together can't be severed… not by any enemy or any adversity, not by any reckless act from either one of them, not by any careless word.
Would he love her if she didn't have this martyr complex, this suicidal streak that drives her constantly into harm's way? After all, it's part of her, and he loves her for all her parts, no matter how infuriating. And it lets him be her hero every now and then, which is kind of nice.
Whatever happens tonight, they will only be the closer for it. Whatever nebulous form their connection takes, they will always have it. There will always be something between them… an understanding.
The last time he was at her house, waiting impatiently for her to emerge from the bathroom after an ungodly amount of time, he sprawled on the couch and picked up the nearest magazine. Flipping through it, he came across an article called: "Are You Ready for a Relationship?" and it really made him laugh his ass off.
Forget mere relationships. Damon Salvatore is ready for eternity with Elena Gilbert.
Of course, she'd have to be a vampire. And she has no interest in becoming a vampire. And he has no interest in making the same mistake twice: trying to force that fate on her when she didn't choose it of her own free will. But if – the thought makes him ache with hope – if she owns up to what's between them ….
… if she ever, by some miracle, grows to love him like he loves her…
…. she might choose it willingly.
He's not worried about turning her into another Katherine. He's not worried about it changing her, like it changed him. If anyone in the entire world can remain strong and pure and kind and amazing as a vampire, it would be Elena Gilbert. Her flaws are what make her flawless in his eyes; that's never going to change.
He crosses the room to her, all prior conversations forgotten. Stefan gets there first, but Stefan barely seems to exist right now. Damon belongs by Elena's side, and whether Stefan is there or not doesn't really seem to matter at the moment, given his recent revelation. The whole loving-her-forever-nothing-coming-between-them bit. Damon loves his brother, but right now Stefan might as well be furniture.
Stefan is the first to offer his arm to her, but that doesn't stop Elena from shooting Damon an expectant look. Pretending to be annoyed, but really thrilled that she wants him near, he takes her other arm, vowing as he does that one day, this tug-of-war will end.
The dance is the perfect distraction from her suicidal tendencies. "It would be rude not to dance, you know," he says smugly, extending his hand, almost as bait. Waiting to see whether she'll accept him or defy him. Whether she likes him right now or is just tolerating him.
For a moment, he thinks she might argue. But she sighs, rolls her eyes, and a slow grin creeps across her perfect face. She places her gloved hand in his, and even through the fabric, he can feel the sparks. "It is tradition," she accedes mischievously, curtsying.
Oh, yeah. She likes me.
He thinks he catches a gleam of forever, shining brightly in her stupid, beautiful, amazing eyes. And regardless of what happens tonight, or the next night, or the next,
Damon Salvatore will never give up hope.
~ Fin ~
I really hope everyone enjoyed it... please review!
