Disclaimer: I don't own anything TVD related. No copyright infringement is intended.
~Unforgotten~
The countdown around me begins at thirty. I chuckle internally at the people jumping the gun. Aren't you supposed to start at ten?
25, 24, 23…
My eyes scan the room for the one person I saw earlier. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him. After all it had been what, five years? If it weren't for that same smirk and boisterous laugh I heard from all the way across the room, I would have thought I was hallucinating. Or maybe it was wishful thinking.
19, 18, 17…
I search the crowded area in the room designated for dancing; white, pink, blue, and silver decorative streamers and balloons hinder my vision as I start to become anxious, wondering if I will find him in time.
13, 12, 11…
Here it is, the last ten seconds of 2012. Everyone around me begins to pair up in preparation for their midnight kiss. They say how you ring in the New Year will be how you spend the following one. I don't know if I could handle another year alone with just my small dog, Riley, for company. No, I can't. I have to find someone – anyone – to lock lips with as the clock strikes twelve.
7, 6, 5…
The roar of the crowd gets louder as the countdown grows closer to its end. I've all but given up on my search, standing alone, smack dab in the middle of the room, looking entirely lost and devoid of any New Year's Eve spirit. Everyone else is too caught up in their own partying to even notice me. How pathetic am I?
3, 2, 1…
"Happy New Year, Elena," a voice from my past whispers in my ear among all the shouts and noise-makers around me.
I feel his warm breath tickle my neck as it hits. His body molds to mine from behind and his lips brush lightly against my cheek. I lean into the chaste kiss and start to turn. His hands grab my hips to prevent my movement. A sudden gust of cool air against my cheek makes me realize his lips are no longer there, and I whimper aloud at the absence.
I turn suddenly, only to find nobody there. People around me are lost in their own little world of merriment, some still locked in their embraces, others passing around yet another bottle of champagne. Had anyone even been there in the first place? Or was my mind merely playing tricks on me?
I look around frantically, turning every which way to see if I can catch a glimpse of the man who had just sensually wished me a happy New Year; his dark hair, blue eyes, tall form - anything to prove that it had been real. Pushing my way through the throngs of people, I continue my search, needing proof that I haven't lost my mind completely.
I reach the front door and still haven't found him. My search in vain, I turn the brass knob and walk out into the cold night to make my way home, leaving the sounds of revelry behind me – along with my mysterious ghost of unforgotten love.
December 30, 2012
My desk was smattered with papers, pens, random Post-Its of blue, orange, and yellow. It's no wonder I can't get any work done. I turned my chair toward my laptop resting precariously on the very corner-edge of my desk on top of a phone book. I opened my email inbox, needing to clear my mind of all the figures and percentages running through at a mile a minute.
Most of it was junk, automatically making its way into my trash without ever being opened. I was just about to close out of the internet browser when a party invitation caught my eye.
As the New Year begins and the old one ends,
We'd love to celebrate with family and friends.
Join us in the Countdown to 2013!
December 31, 2012 8:00 p.m.
At the home of Caroline Forbes
530 Mystic Drive
This wasn't my first invite to a New Year's party. The invitation wasn't what had caught my eye; the hostess was. Just seeing that name on my computer screen brought back old memories from five years prior, memories I had tried to forget, but never succeeded.
June 10, 2007
Graduation had finally come. Four years of slaving over textbooks, all-night cram sessions, and boring lectures were finally over. Done. Finito. I would never have to go through any of it again. It was time to make my mark in the real world, and I'd do it with my girl by my side.
The diamond ring I had purchased lay heavily in the pocket of my black slacks as I rang the doorbell at her small apartment. The door was answered by her roommate and best friend, Caroline Forbes, and I waited nervously just inside the entry for my beautiful girlfriend to join me.
When she stepped out of her bedroom, hair layered in soft chestnut waves, deep purple dress showing off her perfect cleavage and just the right amount of creamy, alabaster leg, brown eyes sparkling as they greeted me, I think my heart stopped right then and there. In that moment, all of my anxiety and nerves about my decision flew out the window. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this woman before me.
The food at the restaurant was exquisite, the bottle of wine we shared one of the best I'd ever tasted. She ordered a dessert of tiramisu, her favorite, and refused to share even the smallest of bites with me because it was so good. I, of course, gave her as much of my chocolate-raspberry cake as she wanted.
On the drive home I took her to a place in the hills that overlooked the entire city. The night was perfectly clear and only the slightest bit cool and gave us a spectacular view of the stars and the city lights below.
I lay a blanket I had in my trunk out on a small patch of grass so we could watch for shooting stars, one of her favorite things to do. I waited calmly until one flew over us, whispering in her ear to close her eyes and make a wish. I watched her for a minute, head tilted back to the sky, the moonlight bathing her face in a soft glowing light, her face so peaceful as she wished upon a star. When she opened her eyes, she found me kneeling on one knee before her, diamond in hand, asking her to marry me.
The look of complete and utter surprise filled me with satisfaction. It was hard to surprise her, and I was glad I succeeded. My joy only lasted for about thirty seconds before I became the one consumed with shock.
"Mr. Salvatore, call on line one." My secretary's voice brought me out of my flashback and back to the present.
I quickly ran a hand over my face and through my hair, dispelling the memory of the worst night of my life, and picked up the telephone receiver. I'd relived that night millions of times, each less satisfying than the last. As I half-heartedly talked to one of my clients on the phone, I made the decision to go to Caroline's party, and R.S.V.P'd yes to the email. After I hit send, I wondered if I was more scared to see that Elena was there, or that she wasn't.
January 1, 2012
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
I dragged my arm over to my nightstand, letting my hand crash down onto the snooze button of my alarm clock. I don't even know why I set the damn thing today. It was a holiday after all; I could sleep in. Plus, I didn't want to be awake. Being awake made me think of last night. I would have believed it all to be an incredibly life-like dream if it weren't for the fact that I still had remnants of silly string on my clothes and my cell phone had a million "Happy New Year!" messages cluttering my inbox.
So last night had happened. And Damon had been there. So where does that leave me? Us?
What am I talking about? There is no "us" anymore, there hasn't been for the past five years. Ugh, I don't want to think about it.
I groaned and rolled over, away from the raindrops hitting my window noisily, and threw the blankets over my head, intent on getting a few more hours sleep before I started asking myself difficult questions.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Apparently my alarm clock had other plans. Hadn't I shut this off? Oh, right, I only hit the snooze button.
"Alright, I'm up!"
Tossing the blankets, I sat upright and reached over to be sure to switch the little clock to "off." I contemplated climbing back into bed once again, but decided against it and, after a short trip to the bathroom, went to the kitchen to warm up my latte maker. I stood in my kitchen, shivering a little in nothing but a cream-colored camisole and matching boy shorts. I tried to focus on the present, the here-and-now, but as I watched the milk begin to steam up to create that delicious frothy foam, my mind wandered into memories best left forgotten - even though they never were.
June 10, 2007
Damon Salvatore had just proposed to me. He was still down on one-knee, my hand in his as he waited expectantly for my answer. I sat there in shock, unsure of what to say.
I wanted to marry him, dreamed about it even, but it was too soon. We had just graduated college; the whole world was open to us now. We could do anything, go anywhere. I could travel, move, go on a cruise, do something I'd never done before. And then it occurred to me. All of those thoughts involved "I" and "freedom," not "we" and settling down. That was what he was asking me to do, but I wasn't ready for that. Yet.
"Yet" was the key word in my answer, but he didn't seem to hear it. He didn't want to move backward, and I wasn't ready to take that much of a leap forward. It didn't mean we had to end; we could keep the status quo, pretend like it never happened and wait a few years - months even. He didn't like that plan.
I held in my tears on the way home and gazed out the window. The city lights drew closer as we made our way down the mountain. The car seemed like an oppressive cage with no air, like the walls were closing in on me. Every mile we traveled we came closer to an end; the silence was deafening. The only sound was the tires as they rolled along the pavement and the occasional click of the turn signal as we reached the main part of town.
We both just sat there, still as the night air, in front of my house. I looked over at him and saw that he was gripping the steering wheel with all his might and staring straight ahead through the windshield.
Not knowing what to say and feeling the tears begin to well up once more, I quickly leaned over, kissed him on the cheek, and hurried out of the car. I was halfway up my driveway, tears streaming openly down my face, when I heard the sound of the car window slide down.
"Elena," he called to me in a half-strangled voice.
I reached up to brush the salty teardrops from my cheeks and turned around to see a look that will forever haunt me. Our eyes met and I knew this would be the last time I would see him. Maybe someday we would run into each other by accident or he would change his mind, but at that moment there was no going back. I silently pleaded with him to say something, anything.
I don't know how long I just stood there, arms crossed over my chest to ward off the chill of the air, crickets chirping in the small flowerbed in front of our house, his sad eyes communicating what he couldn't say: good-bye. Finally, after an indeterminate amount of time, I saw him sigh heavily, his chest rose and fall once before he turned to face the road, pulled out, and drove away. I watched his car until it disappeared around the corner before I finally broke down. I was told, after the fact, by Caroline that she found me crumpled into a ball in the driveway, crying as if someone had died.
It was worse. He wasn't dead, but he was gone.
The timer from my latte machine announcing my coffee was done brought me back to the present. I tried to clear my head of the past, but failed miserably. I never saw Damon again. That was until last night. Not a day had gone by that I hadn't thought of my decision that night and regretted it; I should have said yes. I should have jumped into his arms, screaming from the mountaintops that I would love to be his wife. Now it was too late.
I'd wanted freedom, independence. What's that saying, be careful for what you wish for? How true that is.
I poured my coffee and added some cinnamon and brown sugar before letting Riley out into the backyard, watching her get mud all over her brown and white fur by rolling around in the wet grass as I sipped my morning caffeine, still lost in thoughts of what could have been.
A knock sounded at my front door and I turned curiously. I glanced down at my sleep-wear and ran into the bathroom to grab my navy fleece robe, calling out to whomever it was that I'd be right there as I pulled it on. I rushed over to the door, unlocked the deadbolt, and pulled it open to reveal a sopping wet man with disheveled dark hair, large purplish bags under his eyes, and wearing a slightly crumpled dress shirt and wrinkled slacks that were dripping from the rain.
"Damon," I breathed.
December 31, 2012
I don't know what possessed me to do it. I saw her as everyone counted down to midnight. She was standing in the middle of the room, searching for something, or maybe it was someone. I had been watching her for most of the night and didn't see a date of any sort. So who was she looking for?
In five years she had only grown more beautiful. Her hair that always smelled like vanilla was down and styled in shiny waves. The emerald dress she wore accentuated her olive skin beautifully, and I couldn't help but admire the way the strapless design pushed her breasts up.
At ten seconds to midnight, I made my decision. I didn't know what her reaction would be as I nervously made my way over to her. I reached her with three seconds left of 2012, but hesitated. What if she was waiting for someone?
One second left and I couldn't resist. My whispered "Happy New Year" made her tense and then had her melting into me. I hoped she didn't think I was someone else as I kissed her cheek, not letting her turn around. If it was rejection in her eyes when she saw me again, I didn't want to see it. And, well, if it was something more, I still wasn't sure if I would be able to handle the emotional roller coaster again. She had broken my heart five years prior. What's to say that wouldn't happen again?
I left quickly and without a word out of self-preservation. I was intent on catching a cab, returning home and drinking until I passed out, but for some reason I decided to walk instead.
Walking helped clear my head a little. I had prepared myself before arriving at the party for the chance that I might see her, but all of my careful prep work went completely out the window the moment I saw her. It was like we were in college again, and I just wanted to walk up to her and hold her in my arms.
But this wasn't college. For all I knew she had a boyfriend, or a husband even. I had guiltily sought out her left hand at the party and smiled to myself when I didn't see a ring. That still didn't prove she was single, but wouldn't he have been there with her?
I passed a park as I walked and thought for a moment about stopping. The moonlit swing reminded me of a night a long time ago during sophomore year.
I shook my head and moved on before I dragged myself down memory lane. It was like seeing her again had dredged up all these unbidden memories.
Everything I saw I could relate back to her or the time when we were together. The trees reminded me of the picnic we had in the woods. The few cars driving down the road brought me back to when we went car shopping together, or when we would fog up the back of my Camaro fooling around. The residential section had me reminiscing to when I helped her and Caroline apartment hunt, and how I wanted to ask her to move in with me, but they had already made an arrangement before I could work up the nerve. Even the telephone poles had me thinking back to the first time I kissed her.
I was no longer paying attention to where I was going. I was lost in the happy moments of the past, thinking of things I didn't even know I remembered. My mind sifted through various recollections as I continued to walk in what I hoped was the general direction of my house.
I walked by a liquor store and contemplated going in; Jim, Jack, and Johnny would help the memories fade, at least for tonight, as they did on so many other nights.
A phone booth on the corner caught my attention – mainly because I was surprised they even had phone booths around anymore – and I went there instead, a plan beginning to form in my mind. I picked up the thick Yellow Book and turned toward the people listings. As I scrolled through the "G" section, I worried that she might not be listed. My finger ran up the white page: Grissom, Goldstein, Gilbert, Genchy. Wait a minute. I went back up and saw what I wanted: Elena Gilbert… 347 Pine Rd… (555) 510-3580.
I copied the information into my cell phone before sitting down on the curb, lost in thought. I don't know how long it was that I sat there, pondering whether or not I would use the address and/or phone number.
I stood up and walked some more, weighing the pros and cons in my head. She could turn me away or she could invite me in with open arms. Either way I had to know. I couldn't let this opportunity pass me by and wonder "what if" for the rest of my life.
The sky was turning lighter, a faint pink glow showing in the East through the gray clouds as I pulled up the address on my phone and found directions to her house from the street I was currently on. It was a couple miles away, but walking there would give me time to figure out what I would say when I arrived.
About a half a block down the street, it started to rain. It wasn't a light sprinkle either; no, it was a full on downpour out of nowhere. I started jogging to pick up the pace, all the while running different opening lines through my head.
It took almost half an hour to get to her house - it didn't help taking a wrong turn on Meadow Lane - and by the time I reached Pine Rd I was completely drenched even though the rain had begun to let up.
343, 345, 347.
I stood in the steep driveway of a small gray and white house. It was probably no more than two bedrooms and had a one-car garage. The small lawn was freshly cut and a tall tree occupied the rest of her front yard. I walked along the small gravel path that lead up to the pewter-colored door. I raised my hand to knock, but hesitated when I took in my rumpled and dripping self.
What kind of an impression is that going to make? I should go home and sleep for a few hours, shower, and clean myself up before showing up on her doorstep unannounced.
I half-turned, intent on doing just that, before realizing that if I didn't do something now, I never would. I turned back and knocked solidly against the hard wood, cringing from the loud, hollow sound it made. I was happy for the small eave I could stand under out of the rain as I waited impatiently, my fingers tapping against my leg. I heard her sweet voice call out that she would be a minute and then her footsteps as she approached the door. The click of the lock had me standing up straight, trying to compose myself somewhat and running through my head one last time what I would say to her.
However, all my carefully thought out words disappeared when she opened that door. Fuck, she was a sight to behold. She must not have been up very long, especially compared to the all-nighter I had just pulled, but she was still gorgeous. Her hair was mussed, and I could tell she must have hastily thrown a robe on because it was still untied and slightly open, revealing the skimpy pajamas she wore that hugged her curves in all the right places. The shock and surprise showed on her face, and I may have detected a tinge of happiness as she said my name.
"Elena… Err… Hi?" I responded, suddenly unsure of what to say.
I brought my hand up and rubbed the back of my neck uncomfortably and waited for her to say something more.
"Hi," she said in return.
I continued to stand there awkwardly, silently berating myself for coming here. Why did I come here?
"Oh my God, you're completely soaked. Come in!" she exclaimed and stood aside to let me in.
"Thanks," I mumbled and walked into her house.
"Let me get you a towel."
She left, and I took a moment to look around. It was very tidy and organized. The door opened right into her living room, which was very simply decorated, housing a couch and a big-screen TV that would be any man's fantasy. There was a small brick fireplace that looked unused, and I could see a small archway leading to the kitchen in the far corner.
Elena returned with a fluffy blue towel and wrapped it around me. I shivered slightly and apologized for dripping on her carpets.
"Don't worry about it. Why are you so wet? I thought the rain was letting up."
She was rubbing the towel against my arms, attempting to warm me up. I hadn't realized how cold I was until now.
Her robe had fallen open completely, and I couldn't help but notice her nipples pointing through the light cotton. Some less than innocent memories flooded my thoughts and I tried to push them away, cursing at the timing and hoping she didn't catch my downward glances.
"Yeah, it is. It was pouring on my way here though," I replied.
"What'd you do, walk?"
"Uhh, yeah," I admitted sheepishly.
She looked at me incredulously and stopped rubbing.
"Well, we have to get you warm and dry otherwise you're going to get sick. You should take a hot shower. I can toss your clothes in the dryer while you're in there."
I tried to object but she wasn't having it. I removed my saturated shoes before she ushered me into her bathroom, telling me to place my wet clothes outside the door after I removed them. I did as she asked and stepped under the warm spray of water.
I knew it would take a while for my clothes to be dry, so I lingered longer than I should have. The hot water and steam felt good as I just stood there, allowing my thoughts to take over and letting the heat seep into my bones to warm me up.
Unfortunately my thoughts began to take that improper path again and Elena's nipples and perfectly sized breasts came to my mind. I thought of how they used to feel and taste, how responsive she was under my touch. I could feel my body reacting to my fantasies and halted my line of thought regrettably.
What the hell was I thinking? I can't picture Elena naked while I'm standing in her shower, after imposing on her uninvited!
I willed "it" to go away and turned the water off, deciding I had been in there long enough. At least I wasn't shaking with cold anymore. I looked around the room, but didn't see any towels. At the same time that I stepped out of the shower, thinking that maybe they were around the corner on a shelf or something, I heard Elena's voice.
"Hey, Damon, I just realized there aren't any t—"
She cut her sentence short as she walked in, towels in hand, and saw me standing there naked and dripping wet.
"I—I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed and turned around to walk back out, towels still in her possession.
"Wait, Elena," I called before she could leave. "You still have the towels."
"Oh, God, I'm sorry. I should have knocked. Here."
She thrust the towels out behind her, keeping her eyes averted, and practically ran out of the bathroom. I chuckled at her reaction as I toweled off, aware of the fact that my clothes were still drying.
So, do I just stand here and wait until they're done?
I felt a little uncomfortable walking around her house in just a towel, but I didn't really see any other option.
"Hey, Elena," I called after opening the door and poking my head out.
"Just a sec," she yelled back from the direction of what I supposed was her bedroom.
She returned with a pair of gray sweatpants and a large t-shirt, I recognized them at once and looked at her with widened eyes.
"Um… your clothes aren't dry yet so I figured you could wear these in the meantime. They should fit. They are yours after all… or were, whatever."
Her face was inflamed with a pink color as she handed me the clothes. She moved to turn to let me get dressed, but I grabbed her wrist. She looked up at me questioningly.
"You kept them?" I asked her.
"Well, yeah. I mean, obviously…" she drifted off and motioned toward the clothes, clearly embarrassed.
"Elena, I—" I began, but she cut me off.
"You should get dressed. I made you a cup of coffee, so feel free to come in the kitchen when you're done." And with that she turned and walked away.
Elena's POV
I was still mortified as I stood in the kitchen, adding two spoons of sugar and cream, just how Damon liked it. First, I walk in on the guy naked, and oh, what a sight that was. I had only gotten a glimpse before I turned my back, but it was enough. He had obviously continued to work out over these past five years, and his chest was just begging me to run my hands down it like I used to.
Then, I had to embarrass myself further by pulling out some old college sweats of his that he had given me over six years ago. When he called me out on it I froze, unable to say anything to explain why I had kept them after all this time.
What was I supposed to say? I made a mistake ever letting you go, and so I kept everything that you ever gave me or that reminded me of you? Well, the stuff I didn't throw out in a drunken fury one night after deciding my unhappiness was all your fault and I would never forgive you. Yeah, because that didn't sound pathetic or anything. Nor the least bit psycho, right?
And so I had just mumbled something and run away to my kitchen, where I now stood stirring his coffee for I don't know how long.
"I think it's pretty well mixed in by now," Damon teased.
His sudden appearance startled me, causing me to jump back, the spoon clattering against the counter.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said in a voice so full of sincerity I had to look at him.
His blue eyes bore into mine as if routing out all my secrets. I saw him take a step closer to me, and I knew that I shouldn't let him get too close, but his gaze was mesmerizing. After all, he had just shown up this morning, without a word, after barely even speaking to me last night. What was he doing here?
I blinked a few times and turned to the mug on the counter, picking it up and holding it out to him, noticing how he was only a few feet away now.
"Coffee?" I asked.
"Yes, thank you," he replied and took a sip. "It's good."
"Cream and two sugars, right?"
He nodded and smiled; his blue eyes had me under a spell once more. I couldn't help but smile in return.
Suddenly, and without warning, he closed the gap between us, cupping my face in both his hands and pressing his lips to mine. It was brief and I blinked in surprise after he pulled away, wondering if that had just happened or if I had imagined it. The guilty look on his face and his muttered apology told me it was not my imagination, and I felt a half-smile creep onto my face as I found myself wishing he would do it again.
I found his eyes searching my face for something, probably some form of reaction since I had not responded to his apology. What do you say to someone who apologizes for kissing you?
Hoping my actions would speak louder than words; I stood on my tiptoes and placed my lips firmly against his. I felt him kiss me back and melted into him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him.
He parted my lips with his tongue and I moaned at the feel of our tongues intertwining. Damon had always been the best kisser, and that hadn't changed over the past five years. It was like we were in college again and nothing had happened; that's how right it felt between us. We were merely picking up where we left off.
I vaguely registered him lowering his hands to my ass and picking me up to place me on the countertop, moving his hands to my thighs. My legs parted of their own volition and he stepped in between them as we continued to make-out in my kitchen.
Trailing my hands from his neck down to his chest, I ran my fingers along his chiseled abs like I had wanted to earlier. He responded by sliding his hands upward, but not far enough. My lust and longing and everlasting love for this man had quickly taken over my thought processes. I decided that I could no longer be held accountable for anything that happened next.
I reached the hem of his shirt and broke our kiss to pull it up and over his head. He looked at me with lustful bedroom eyes after I tossed it… somewhere. Instead of returning his lips to mine, he began kissing my neck, sucking and nibbling as he worked his way down to the top of the lavender tank top I had changed into while he was showering. Meanwhile, I turned my attention back to his chest and his sculpted arms.
He brought one hand up to pull the top of the shirt down in order to kiss lower. Frustrated that he wasn't able to access where I wanted him to, I quickly pulled my shirt off and discarded it. I brought his mouth back to mine and sucked on his bottom lip greedily as he palmed my breasts with one hand and moved toward the button of my jeans with the other.
While I was not entirely opposed to sex in my kitchen, I was feeling rather confined on top of the counter with the fridge on one side and the stove on the other.
I pulled away from him and pushed on his chest, making him take a few steps backward and hopped down from the counter. He looked at me curiously and opened his mouth to speak, but I placed one finger against his lips and then turned to walk toward my bedroom. I glanced back, gave him a seductive little grin and motioned with my finger to follow me. He happily obliged.
I shut the door behind him after he entered my room. He looked at me then bent down to kiss me while simultaneously pushing me toward my bed. Instead of walking backward, I jumped into his arms and wrapped my legs around him, placing kisses all over his face and neck and feeling through his sweatpants how eager and ready he was.
He laid me down on my bed and crawled on top me – not that he had much choice considering my legs were still around him. I pushed my hips into him, enjoying the low moan that fell from his lips. Taking my position to his advantage, he reached underneath me to unhook my bra, one-handed, and then slowly slid the straps down, kissing along their path and giving me goosebumps. Once the bra was completely removed, his magical tongue began to lavish my breasts, causing me to arch into him, desperately seeking friction.
He pushed my hips back down while dragging his teeth lightly over my nipple. I moaned and frantically reached for the top of his sweatpants, annoyed with the small knot he tied in the drawstrings that I couldn't get untied. Knocking my hands away, he undid the knot while simultaneously kissing his way down to my jeans.
I was distracted from what I was doing when he managed to use his teeth alone to unbutton my jeans and slide the zipper down. That's new.
"God," I sighed.
He looked up at me, his mouth hovering over where I wanted him most, and it was the sexiest sight I had ever seen in my life.
"Not quite," he replied teasingly and then placed a kiss over my underwear before using his hands to remove my jeans, pulling my underwear along with them.
After that, I wasted no time in removing his sweatpants, watching as his hardened cock sprang free. It's been a long time, friend. I brought my hand up to stroke him a couple of times before placing him at my entrance. He looked into my eyes as he pushed in slowly, my eyes nearly rolling in the back of my head at the feeling.
"Jesus, Elena," he groaned.
Once he was fully sheathed inside of me, we began a steady rocking rhythm, one that soon increased in tempo and pressure until we were both breathing heavily and about to tip over the edge. I couldn't describe the emotions running through me at that moment even if I tried. Lust, longing, love, wanting, desire, more; they all consumed me and brought me closer to my impending orgasm.
He moved his mouth to my breast and his fingers to my clit. I gasped at the feeling and urged him to continue, my pleasure rising with every nibble and thrust.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I let go and let the waves of bliss roll over me as I moaned Damon's name over and over. He followed soon after, his breathless "Elena" bringing a smile to my lips before he rolled off me and collapsed. I heard his heavy breathing mingled with my own and my pounding heart, but everything else was silent.
"I didn't come here for this you know?" he said quietly.
"Oh really?" I teased. "Why did you come then?"
He hesitated and I cupped his chin, tilting his head up so I could see his eyes. I gasped. The love I could see reflected back at me made my heart race. Was it possible that he believed he had made a mistake five years ago as well? That his choice to say goodbye that night haunted him, just as it did me?
"It's ok, Damon. You can tell me anything."
He sighed before speaking. "I've never forgotten you, Elena. You, or what we shared. Not a day goes by that you haven't been in my thoughts. I've tried to move on. It never worked out because my heart was already taken, as cheesy as that sounds. I was up all night debating whether or not to come here, and in the end the thought of seeing you – even if it was only for a moment – was worth any risk."
Tears began to well up at his first five words. By the time he was done, they were falling freely down my face.
"Baby, don't cry," he said as he wiped the tears from my cheeks, but it only made me cry harder.
"I've never forgotten you either, Damon," I said in between sniffles.
I watched him as I spoke and saw how my words had brightened his eyes and lit up his entire face. He kissed me then, slowly, deeply, and passionately. When he pulled away he asked, "Elena Gilbert?"
"Yes, Damon Salvatore?" I giggled.
"Will you do me the great honor of joining me for dinner tonight?" He smiled at me and there was no way I could say no.
"I'd love to."
After all, how one spends New Year's day is how they will spend the rest of the year, right? I certainly hoped so.
I hope you enjoyed reading it as much I loved writing it. Thanks to MistyFate for beta-ing.