Title: Counting Stars
Summary: They loved each other like this summer would be their last. Post season four graduation, Damon/Elena centric
Notes: I'm usually better at writing the formerly tragic and tortured relationship of Damon and Elena, but I think in light of recent events, it's time to have some fun. These are unrelated oneshots that all take place after 4x23 up until Elena starts school in the fall. They're not in any particular order. The title is from OneRepublic's song which contains the line "Everything that kills me makes me feel alive", and to me that's so very Damon/Elena. Without further adieu, here we go!
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"What?" she demanded one night when she caught Damon staring. She was strewn across the couch with his shirt buttoned around her and lace panties hugging her hips. A tumbler was in her hand as it lay dangling over the edge of the couch. Bringing it to her lips and tipping it back, she emptied the contents and set it on the side table. Then she sauntered over to Damon, eyes flashing mischief and demanding an answer. He kept his eyes on her, still marveling in this familiar yet unfamiliar girl. He was used to the hesitant, the coy, the I-don't-know-what-I-feel and the I-know-but-I'm-too-afraid from her; he wasn't used to the sexy, stealthy I-know-what-I-want-and-it's-you-come-hither Elena.
"What's that look?" she asked again, slinging one leg over his hips and pulling herself onto the chair he was sitting in. He didn't avert his eyes; he just gave her a cheeky smile.
"No doom and gloom," he quipped, "is a very good look on you." He shifted his hips, and soft, tiny hands braced themselves against his chest; he laughed. "Still feisty, though."
"It's nice to see you being yourself again." She dipped her head to press a kiss against his shoulder and then pulled her head back up. A smile stretched across her face as a thought passed through her. "This was how it was before my parents... I was fun. And happy. But there was always something missing."
The fact that she had just referenced her parents' death, and the smile hadn't faltered, was almost too much for Damon. He took her hand, turning it over.
"And now?" he prompted unnecessarily.
"I think…" she began, her eyes focused on the fire behind him. "I think new things are missing now. You never forget about the people you lose. It's more about finding the people you never knew you needed."
He touched her cheek, mesmerized by the sober tone of her voice in the hazy drunkenness that encompassed their night. Slowly, her eyes locked with his, she moved her head to kiss him again, agonizingly slow and purposeful. It were these moments that he marveled under, the moments not quite like Denver or in his room after the Miss Mystic Falls pageant. Those had always been furious moments of passion, desperate attempts to connect in such a short amount of time. This, this was different. There was no definite end to the way her tongue traced lazy circles on his neck or how she gently ran her fingers over his cheeks and down his chest.
She arched her back as he slipped open the buttons on his shirt that she was wearing. He took it all in between kisses, these moments that were pure and slow and delicate and so unlike anything he had ever experienced. (And by the look in her eyes and the way she trembled, he guessed she felt the same.)
There was nothing to hide.
"I love you, I love you, I love you."
Her whispers mixed with the heat of the fire and the dimness of the room, and he closed his eyes and breathed.