Does this feel wrong?
The words chanted in his ears.
Does this feel wrong?
He tries to block the sounds, the motions emanating from her.
Does this feel wrong?
He shuts his eyes.
Does this feel wrong?
If he can't see her it won't be real.
Does this feel wrong?
A tear slides down his cheek. There's a lump in his throat, preventing him from speaking. The pain all this sirebond has caused. It's building up. It's crippling. He doesn't know how much more he can take of this. This hurt. There's a pain in his chest. Not a physical one but a metaphorical one. His heart doesn't beat at least not physically, but it does for her. It's kind of ironic; her being sired to him. He would do anything for her. He tried so hard to do everything for her. And still they seem to always be at odds with the rest of the world. They didn't understand how well they worked together. She made him feel worthy of living. She had his back and he had hers in their times of need. They were meant to be. But the world would just not let them run their course.
"Does this feel wrong?" she cries out again moving to cradle his face.
She watched him fall to his knees, watched as his will weakened and his desires fled. She let out a sob as her heart wrenched inside of her, she sank to the floor to be by his side. The most beautiful, the bravest, and last but not least, he was the most selfless man she had ever known, but he was also the most broken and right here he had seemed to have lost it all. She had watched it all leave his eyes earlier. Any chance that he could have been happy had been stripped from him. And just this morning he had, had it all. She could not let this happen. She wouldn't let it happen. He was better than this. They were better together. She grabbed him by the face.
"Open your eyes" she commanded gently. "Damon" she said fiercely. "I want you to look me in the eyes."
His beautiful eyes befell hers as she fell into his roaring ocean. His dark blue eyes captivated her every time. She only hoped it held the same effect it had on her on him.
"Look at me" she whispered. "What you feel—I—we feel, its real. It's real. When it's real you can't walk away. You can't. I won't let you. How I feel about you hasn't changed. I will fight for you. I will not go down like this. Do you hear me? I will fight for us Damon. I'm not running. Please." She begged tears running down her face.
"This morning you said this was right. Remember that Damon. You told me it was right a long time ago. I didn't want to believe it. So I said it wasn't right. I was wrong. I was so wrong and you told me it just wasn't right, right now. And now I'm telling you. It's right and it's right now. It's right. " She pleaded desperately as she kissed every part of his face, his forehead, his nose, his lips, and every place she could reach and touch.
"Damon" she softly cries—please, don't give up on us—you promised me you'd never leave—please, please don't give up" she says as she wraps her arms around, vowing never to let him go.
"I can't lose you. Not now, not after all we've been through. I can't bear losing you. There is no world without you Damon. Not after everything. I need you. Please." she continues.
"Please say something" she whimpers. "Please—I want you Damon. I want you. After all we've been through it's you I need. Not Stefan not Caroline not Bonnie not even Jeremy. It's you." She says as she holds him even tighter. "Don't leave me. Plea—" She sobs her entire body shaking as she cries. She can't lose him.
Damon finally moves from the uncomfortable position on his knees to situating himself on the floor in an upright position. He cradles Elena into a hug as if she were a toddler. Her arms and legs wrapped around him. He pets her hair soothingly as she cries. She keeps murmuring please. His hearts breaks in two at the sight before him. How can he break her heart? How can he break his own again? He inhales, the scent of her hair, hoping to calm himself down. He told Stefan he would handle this but as he is faced with Elena sobbing her heart out. He doesn't know if he can do it. Every will in his body forbids him from going through with this. He can't—his tongue tied his lips dry—If he didn't know any better due to the vervain he consumed every day, he could have sworn he had been compelled, and the compeller had forbade him of speaking. The lump in his throat grew bigger and more painful. He didn't know what to do or how to solve it; he the master diabolical planner. He lay frozen. Unsure of what his next move would be.
She was supposed to be his.
And he was supposed to be hers.
He let out a sob as he held her. What had he done to deserve such fate, where the world would not let him love and be loved.
Does this feel wrong?
It couldn't feel more right.
A/N I am literally crying my eyes out. I'm sorry I'm such an emotional mess. I can't even with myself.