A/N: Hi, lovely readers! It's been a while, hasn't it? I've finally had some time to sit down and churn something out for you guys.
If you're like me, you probably still haven't recovered from the finale, so here's a little something just to remind you of a certain scene with some amazing dialogue and an even more amazing opportunity to write between the dialogue (and, naturally, what happened after the cameras stopped rolling).
Enjoy, and feel free to leave a review; I'd love to hear your thoughts. You guys are the greatest!
~ kim
Disclaimer: I don't own TVD or its characters; all rights to their respective owners.
He's waiting for me.
Every nerve in my body sings as I walk down the hallway, knowing that I'm getting closer to the parlor, our parlor. I can hear the crackle of flames in the fireplace and I force myself to suppress the memories the sound recalls, memories of our first night together. It feels like years have passed since then, decades; I know if I allow myself to remember his taste, his touch on my skin, the look in his eyes the first time we became nothing more than a tangle of limbs and wild passion…
I can't.
When I'm with him, I can't control myself, and I need to find the words I don't yet have before we can forget time and space and ancient suicidal immortal beings, before I can let myself be with him again.
I won't screw this up this time. We have to get it right.
And he's waiting for me.
I half-expected him to take off for the grill after I slapped him earlier. My hand still stings from the impact – I've discovered in my few months as a vampire that we can pack quite a punch in confrontation. But there he stands, gazing into the flickering light like it's going to give him the answers he craves, and he does not look up as I walk toward him, though I register an imperceptible change in his posture, an involuntary reaction to my presence that I can only see with my vampire eyes.
This is yet another reason I'm hesitant to give up my immortality – I'd thought that was what I wanted, just like I'd thought Stefan was what I wanted. But now I've had a taste of the darkness and the exhilarating love I can have with Damon and I don't want to lose the way he makes me feel; I don't want mortality to dull the intensity of our passion; I don't want a normal life if I can't have it with him.
"I wanted to apologize." His voice is low, soft, but it resonates through me. I press my lips together, reminding myself of why I'm here.
"Good," I answer tightly, folding my arms in front of me to stop my hands from fidgeting.
"Let me finish; I said I wanted to." He turns his head, his eyes burning darker and reflecting the light from the fireplace. "But then I realized, I'm not sorry."
He's angry.
I take a deep breath, trying to stop my voice from shaking in my reciprocal fury. "You would rather die," my voice almost cracks on the word, "than be human, and you expect me to be okay with that?" Almost unconsciously, I move closer, glaring daggers at him and trying to understand how he could be willing to leave me, remembering how it felt every time I nearly lost him in the last two years, trying to tell him without words that he can never put me through that again.
"I didn't say you were supposed to be okay with it; I just said I'm not sorry." His tone is flippant, he bites his lip, and sure enough, there it is: the infamous eye-thing. I can feel my anger bubbling in my chest, rising in my throat, but I swallow it down again. "But you know what I really am? Selfish," he scowls.
If he doesn't stop calling himself selfish, I'm going to slap him again.
"Because I make bad choices that hurt you," he continues, and I huff out an angry breath, narrowing my eyes. "Yes, I would rather die than be human. I'd rather die right now than spend a handful of years with you, only to lose you when I'm too old and sick and miserable and you're still you."
I swallow hard and his voice rises as he almost spits the words at me.
"I'd rather die right now than spend my last final years remembering how good I had it and how happy I was because that's who I am, Elena, and I'm not going to change, and there's no apology in the world that encompasses all the reasons that I'm wrong for you."
The angry retort on the tip of my tongue dissolves as I hear his true thoughts speak out. I'm wrong for you. He still thinks he isn't good enough, and I feel his words prick at my heart as I long to tell him that right or wrong, he's what I ache for, he's the choice I both want and need to make. He's my walking contradiction, telling me that he's selfish and still pushing me away because he believes I'm better off without him.
I hear his frustrated sigh at my lack of response and he turns his bitter gaze back to the fireplace.
Now, Elena.
"Fine, then I'm not sorry either." His eyes flick sideways, giving me a wary look. "I'm not sorry that I met you." I take another step towards him, and I know he can hear the tears in my voice now. "I'm not sorry that knowing you has made me question everything; that in death, you were the one that made me feel most alive."
He says nothing; his face gives nothing away.
"You've been a terrible person," I tell him, beginning to lose my composure and feeling my words tumble from my mouth of their own accord, gaining speed and momentum. "You've made all the wrong choices," - but if I'd chosen differently I'd never have met you - "and of all the choices I've made, this will prove to be the worst one, but I am not sorry," I take a deep breath, meeting his gaze with all the courage that I've got, "that I'm in love with you."
His mouth opens slightly, almost disbelieving, and the words feel so good, so right that I can't stop myself from repeating them.
"I love you, Damon."
He doesn't hesitate, closing the distance between us with determined steps.
"I love you," I whisper one last time before his lips catch mine, his hands on my cheeks, and it's the most powerful thing I've felt since I flipped the switch back on. Heat rages through my body as the flames in the fireplace roar in approval; my hands lift slowly to cup his face and this isn't the fiery, desperate kiss we shared in this room all those weeks ago, no; this is the love that we feel that cannot be expressed in words, channeled into one moment, a moment that changes everything.
I open my mouth to him and taste salt, and it takes me a moment to discover the source is my own tears, streaming freely down my face. It feels like a heavy weight has lifted from my chest as I press into him, trying to get impossibly closer, trying to make up for all the time we've lost.
And I have to remind myself that we've only got forever ahead of us now.
We break apart for a moment, and my forehead rests against his as we both revel in the feeling of being together again. I peek through my lashes to admire the way the firelight falls across his face, the way he takes a near silent, quivering breath before he leans back in again. I honestly don't know how I lasted this long without him, and I kiss him, my hands in his hair, on his face, around his neck, everywhere.
I need him.
I have never been more thankful for vampire speed as we flash to his bedroom, my fingers already scrabbling at the buttons of his shirt as I kick off my shoes. He places his hands over mine, stilling my movements, and as I glance up at him, his intense blue eyes give me the message without a single word.
Slowly.
One by one, I undo the buttons, my gaze never wavering from his as I push the shirt back from his shoulders, letting my fingers caress his arms as I slide it down and allow it to fall to the floor. He grabs my waist and my eyes flutter closed as he kisses me again, his hand slowly sliding around to my back and unzipping my lace dress, exposing my back inch by torturous inch.
My dress is gone in a soft thwoosh of fabric and I climb onto the bed, kneeling up. His mattress is so high that I'm slightly above him as he stands in front of me, and I use my hands to tilt his head up to meet mine as I smile into our passionate kiss.
After a moment, I grow impatient and sink back to sit on my heels, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. He moves my hair to one side, places a palm flat across my back to pull me towards him and begins to kiss at my neck, gently allowing his blunt teeth to graze my skin. I shiver, and eagerly tug his jeans and boxers down in one swift movement as he gracefully steps out of them.
He climbs onto the bed beside me, but instead of fixing his lips back to mine as I expect, he slowly runs his fingers over my skin in reverent admiration; up my arms, over my shoulders, down my sides, over my hips, down the outside of my thighs, and coming back up to rest on my waist.
"You're so beautiful," he breathes, almost as if I'm not meant to hear it. His hand grazes my breast slightly and I gasp as he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra, tossing it aside as we fall sideways and he pins me underneath him.
He kisses torturously slowly down my body, working his way down until he settles between my legs. I groan and try to lift my hips to help him remove my underwear, but he lightly presses his cool fingers to my hipbones to hold me down.
He presses his lips to a spot high on the inside of my thigh, swirling his tongue over the skin and smirking as the touch sets my body alight. I feel the light brush of his sharp fang against me and launch up in surprise, and he smiles reassuringly at me, blinking as if awaiting permission.
Slowly, I lie back down, my body vibrating with anticipation for what he's about to do to me. He resumes his kissing, and then I register the fangs again as he nips playfully at my skin.
He bites as gently as he can manage and my whole body ignites, my blood rushing through my veins as I gasp with pleasure. He keeps one hand on my hip to hold me still, but as he begins to drink from me, he sneaks the other into my panties and slips a finger into me. I arch up off the bed, turning my head sideways to moan into the pillow with the last fragments of rationality that I have left, remembering that we might not be alone in the house.
The combined sensations have me coming hard and fast, although I'm so delirious that I have no way of knowing how much time has elapsed. I blindly reach for him, eyes remaining shut in my post-orgasmic haze, and pull him up to kiss me, tasting my blood on his tongue.
He gives me a few seconds to recover, but I can feel his length impatient against my newly healed thigh and flip him onto his back as soon as I've come down from my oblivion.
I don't mess around, pulling my underwear off and using my hand to guide him into me straight away as I press my lips to his. I rock my hips against him, with every movement causing more scorching pleasure to wrack my body until I surrender, roughly sinking my fangs into his throat and thrusting harder in response to his appreciative moan. He tastes better than I can remember, and I can feel euphoria coursing through my bloodstream as I embrace my vampire side, like a feral animal has awakened within me and I'll never be able to get enough of this.
I climb higher and higher, pulling my fangs from him once I've swallowed my fill, and he grasps my waist to aid my movements, finding a perfect rhythm. My second orgasm hits me like an explosion and I barely register the sound ringing in my ears as my own screams of ecstasy. I collapse onto him, my entire body weightless and boneless as he rolls us over and thrusts once, twice and comes inside of me, my name on his lips as I kiss it away.
We lay there for a moment, panting, and he holds me tight in his arms as if I'd vanish if he let me go for even a second. I bury my head in his neck, inhaling his scent deeply and softly tracing my fingers across his chest.
I can almost hear the wheels in his head turning, so I brace myself for anything stupidly selfless that my Damon could come up with when he opens his mouth to speak.
"We made quite a mess, didn't we?"
My eyes fly open and I burst out laughing, feeling light and free. We sit up and his gaze scans the torn pillows and scattered feathers, the blood on the sheets, the cracks in the bedhead from where I'd apparently gripped it too hard. I laugh harder at the hint of anxiety in his expression, but I wouldn't have my neat-freak boyfriend any other way.
"We can clean it up tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that…" I trail off as my mouth finds his again, running my fingers through his hair. "But for now, I can think of more enjoyable things we can spend our time doing."
He grumbles slightly, tucking a stray lock of my hair behind my ear. "Fine; but can we at least do them in the shower?"
I pretend to consider it for a moment, tapping a finger against my chin. "I think I can make that work, Salvatore."
He leaps up from the bed with me in his arms, sending feathers flying as I squeal with delight. He lets me stand as the feathers settle around us, and I wind my arms around his neck, leaning my forehead against his.
"I love you," he breathes, and he tells me in his eyes too, the blue depths that speak infinite words about how much he loves me, the eyes I started falling for long before I knew the soul behind them.
"I love you, too."
And we kiss, and we laugh, and we make love in the shower.
And I have to remind myself that we've only got forever ahead of us now.
Thank you for reading! I'm not sure what I'll have for you all next. I'm working on two multi-chapter AU stories at the moment but it could be a while before I start posting - I want to have a lot written so I don't have major delays between uploads. I'm also headed around the world in August and time is flying, so it might not be likely that you'll see much of it before I go... although I might have time to write on each plane ;)
Much love xx