Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or this storyline. I'm just writing from a different perspective.
He thinks about it all the time.
Sometimes he forgets that he compelled it from her mind, and he almost says the words again.
I love you, Elena.
He almost says it when he drops her off on her front porch after the long days they spend at the boarding house or in Ric's apartment. He almost says it the night Katherine acts as her decoy because after all of the fighting and the work they did to keep Elena alive, he's so flooded with relief that she's still the feisty, warm, passionate human she's always been. He almost says it the night that Bonnie "dies" at the school dance. When he lets Elena slap him, he doesn't feel the pain, but he does when he looks into her broken eyes. And he almost says it then.
Later, when she apologizes, he doesn't slip and say it outright. Instead, he chooses to mix and match his words, finding the right way to say it out loud.
I will always choose you.
And the look in her eyes tells him that she hears it the way he wanted her to.
I love you, Elena.
Later still, when he is certain that she is willingly walking to her death, he tells her in a new way. A way without words. A way that she hates and may never forgive him for. And as her eyes get wide when she sees his bleeding wrist, he doubts himself for a second. Until he remembers that she may never let him tell her he loves her the way he wants to. So for now, this will do. And he forces his blood down her throat. So that when the plan inevitably fails, she will at least not be gone forever.
When their plan actually works, he's so wrecked with guilt that he thinks of a new way to tell her. He knows he'll die from the werewolf venom anyway, but he'd rather be in control until the very end. And in the stillness of the afternoon, standing in a beam of warm sunlight, he slips off his daylight ring as an apology to her. And when Stefan tackles him to the ground and his skin stops burning, he curses himself for failing. For not helping her by ridding her life of his miserable presence.
When he starts to go off the deep end, losing the line between hallucination and reality, succumbing to the venom, he focuses on her face in his mind. But every now and then he feels it slipping away from him, so when she gently pushes him into his bed, he wants to believe it's real but cannot be certain. She holds him and comforts him, and he wants it to be real so badly. But how can it be when he betrayed her and coerced her and hurt her. He's dying, and sweat and tears mix together as they slide down his face. And he knows that it's ok right now. That he doesn't have to remember that he made her forget. That if he's going to die in this moment, she really should know it. And so he says it.
I love you.
And she hears it. And with tears in her eyes and on her face, she brings her lips to his, and if he was any more conscious, he would have smiled or rejoiced or reveled. Instead, he thanks her and rests his head on the pillow, ready to die. Receiving almost all that he wanted from her. To think that she might love him back is too much, but this affection and her presence is almost enough, and he is ready.
So when the door opens and she enters (the one that seems so much more than her but is really so much less than her) to give him the cure, he lets Elena slip out the door. Because what could he possibly say in that moment to keep her with him? He couldn't say a thing, so they both pretend like she was compelled to forget this time, too.
Summer comes and things fall back into place. He plays the role of the cocky noncommittal like he always has, and she pretends not to feel anything for him. Everything seems normal but feels awful. Until one night, when they come home from one of their Stefan rescue missions. He knows he's pushing her limits, but he just has to hear it from her. Hear that she wants him to be safe and happy, that maybe one day she will love him. Her words and her attitude are cold, but her actions have betrayed her, and he wants to hear her confirm it.
I care about you.
She says it with annoyance, but still something in him soars. She may be frustrated, but he knows she's not lying. And when he frames her face with his hands and tells her to remember these feelings later, her eyes stay locked on his with sincerity and wonder and questions. And he holds onto that look and doesn't feed for days because he can survive just thinking of the way she's changing him. To know that she is almost reciprocating his affection. It might be the most terrifying moment of his existence.
When he fucks up and leaves town without giving her any protection, he realizes his mistake too late. And when he walks into the hospital room, she's laying there, with her blood being taken from her veins. And he curses himself as he gently picks her up and carries her home. And all down the hallway of the hospital and through the streets and through the door of the boarding house, his mind alternates between I fucked up I fucked up I fucked up and I love you I love you I love you. And he doesn't know if he's more mad at himself or more in love with her. But when she wakes up and looks in his eyes with so much pain, he sees that she really did trust him. And she might have started loving him. But he hurt her again, and he wonders how many times he'll accidentally tip the balance the wrong way before he gets something right. But for once, redemption comes in the form of his brother when Stefan enters the room and he finds that Elena is more scared of Stefan than she is of him.
Days go by, plans form, and it feels like she really is softening to him. He lays in her bed some nights, waiting for her. He settles on top of the covers, pretending to be flippant and cocky, but feeling all the weight of her presence and all the weight of that moment, so many months ago, just feet from where he lays now.
I love you, Elena.
He doesn't have to stop himself from saying it anymore. Instead, he just lets it play on repeat in his head and it's almost as good as if it had come out of his mouth. She slips into bed beside him, and he wants more than anything to be under the covers, holding her and feeling her warmth. So he stays as still as he can and listens to her talk about her day. She talks about love and passion, and when her eyes drift closed and she asks if she can tell him more tomorrow, he obliges. He turns to face her as she falls asleep. And when her heartbeat steadies and he's sure she's sound asleep, he moves his body closer to her and carefully lays an arm over her and pretends that she asked him to stay the night.
Things have been shifting for a while, but everything really changes in one instant on one night. When he finds out that his brother saved his life and simultaneously realizes that all of this guilt and pressure that has been on his shoulders may never go away. And he's never really cashed it in. His guilt exists because of the way she feels, not the things he's done. And in that moment, he makes a decision that is spontaneous, though it's been planned for eternities, calculated to the millisecond. It's a new idea, and it's all he's ever thought about.
He moves slow enough to judge her reaction. She can see him coming. She has to know what he is about to do. And she doesn't flinch, doesn't protest, doesn't move away. She stands strong and confident and true, and that is why he loves her. And when their lips meet for the first time since he was on his deathbed, his entire existence implodes, and it takes all of his strength not to hold her too roughly or squeeze her too tightly or get on his knees before her and beg for her undying love. And he can feel it from her, too. She may never say it, but she does love him. He will hold on to this moment forever. He may not get all that he wants in this instant, but he will enjoy what he does get. And he pours his heart into her mouth and doesn't try to move beyond that. He just holds her face, her body close to him, and feels all of the warmth and sweetness of her perfect existence.
But it seems as soon something good happens, it turns around again. And he finds himself waltzing with Elena in the middle of the house of their enemies. And when she uses Stefan to put herself in danger and keep him from stopping her, it tears into his heart more than anything, more than if she had said she hated him. But he can't do anything because he still loves her just as much. And so he tells her.
I'm mad at you because I love you.
And the second the words slip out, he realizes how much he's let himself get lost in her. How she's weakening him and molding him to become something he's not. And he hates himself for it. So he goes and fucks up on purpose. And when he holds the blonde in his arms, he growls when Elena's image invades his mind and he can't focus on what's in front of him. And all through the night, he wishes it was Elena in his bed, but it may never be. So he does what he can to take his mind off it. And when he opens the door in the morning and she's standing there, he doesn't care but he does so much.
There is no normal anymore. Elena forgives him every time, but there is always something standing in between them. But that doesn't stop him from dreaming of her when he is caught and tortured and weakened. And it's the sweetest dream he's ever had, their roles reversed for once. And when she comes in to pull him from his chains, he lets himself believe it's real. And when she offers her wrist to him, he can taste how sweet her blood is, and even when he realizes he's been tricked and that none of it happened, it still sustains him in some way.
When Stefan sends them to Denver together, he doesn't know why it's happening, but he'll take what he can get. And he can feel her eyes on him throughout the trip, and he wishes that vampires had the ability to read minds. That night, at the motel, he catches her again, her eyes locked on him from across the room. And he's tired of being passive about it. So he saunters over to her and lays next to her, not bothering to worry about how close they are, or if she may be uncomfortable. He lays there and tells her such a small piece of what's in his heart, and it seems to frustrate her and open her up to him, the former more than the latter because she's up and out of the room in a heartbeat. But he won't relent. So he follows her, and as she wraps her sweater tighter, she looks like she's trying to wrap up all of these things and keep them from coming to the surface.
When he takes a step towards her, he doesn't yet see how right he is. And how torn she is. And how she's about to crack. He doesn't see it, and he's about to give up. So when she turns and starts moving towards him, he assumes she's about to run past him, always running past him and away from him and through him. And he isn't fully prepared for what happens next. And in one swift movement, their lips meet again. And this time, he lets himself be more reckless than the last because he can feel she wants it. His hands are in her hair, tongue sliding across her lips, fingers brushing the skin on her hip, legs pushing and moving her back against the wall. He tries so hard to slow down and appreciate the moment, but all he can smell is her blood and her skin and her lavender vanilla hair. He wants to consume her and be consumed by her. And she reciprocates with a ferocity he wasn't aware of before. His Elena was sweet and measured and calm. This Elena, his new Elena, is wild and clutching and needy and molding her body to his, and he loves it. And he's kissing her neck, her chest, her shoulder, her cheek, her lips. Every second of it is agony and hope, and it's over too soon.
For now, it's forgotten, but he will never forget it. But when he realizes that she is here to make a choice between he and his brother, the satisfaction diminishes and the anger returns. No, he will not become the benefit, the second choice, the consolation. And he will not make it easy for her to decide. He wants all of her, all the time, and he holds on and believes she will really give it all to him. One day.
Again, time passes and life resumes to whatever is supposed to be normal for all of them. And as they deal with Alaric, Klaus, and all the other horrors, he is always looking to her for cues that something has shifted. But it's never obvious. So when she calls him to say a sort of goodbye and makes it clear that she's still choosing his brother, he doesn't tell her the truth. When she speaks of meeting Stefan first, he can't bring himself to tell her about the time they met that she doesn't remember. How her eyes sparkled when he walked across the street to her. How she answered his questions freely and openly, with a wild, unbroken heart. How he probably could have had her for himself then. But he knew there was something special to her. So he let her go on with her normal life. And she had. Until 15 minutes later. And now their entire universe is coming full circle as he holds Alaric's dying body in his hands, which undoubtedly means that she is also dying. He doesn't know she's sinking down into the river again, but he knows she's gone, and for the first time in years, he almost flips off his emotions because of the pain and the knowledge that his joy no longer exists.
When he learns that she is alive, or some version of it, there are no words. He sits by her bed, and when she wakes up, he covers the dread and guilt he feels with sarcasm, like he always has. She never wanted this, and somehow it will always be his fault. And on that first day, there is so much to say and explain. Because she'll remember. She'll remember all of it, and then what?
I love you, Elena.
Then what?
Nothing.
When she struggles to adapt, he helps her. He feeds her and pretends like it's a selfless act. But really the feel of her teeth and lips and tongue on his skin are enough to drive him crazy just thinking about it. So he pulls her aside and gives his blood over to her. And she takes it, and for a moment, he thinks she may be coming around to him again. But she's just hungry. Still, when Stefan punches him in the face for it later, it feels like it was worth it.
The hunter comes and puts them all on edge. Elena feeds on Bambi and all his furry friends but can't seem to keep it down, so he gets her out of town to simultaneously distract her and help her focus. She plays the part of innocent victim very well, and when she's finally able to feed from a human for the first time without death and without guilt, the joy in her eyes is contagious, and he gets lost in it. They dance, and in that dance is everything he's ever wanted for her. Freedom, adventure, and happiness. The smile on her face is enough to break his focus, and even though it's a stupid college kegger party, he almost says it again.
I love you, Elena.
But at the end of the night she snaps back to reality, and claims that she doesn't want to be like him, though she is so similar to him by now that it's laughable. No matter what happens, she will never be able to fully separate herself from him again. And they both know it.
He realizes for the first time that things will truly never be easy for them when she snaps the hunter's neck and turns it back on him. If he hadn't told her to kill, she would never have killed. Not sweet, innocent Elena. But she did, and now there are consequences. And when she starts to hallucinate, everything feels out of control for both of them. And after keeping his distance and watching his boundaries, he knows he needs to find her. So he goes to the bridge because where else would she be? And when he gets there, she keeps turning back and forth and she looks so utterly heartbroken. But he can't see what she's seeing, and he's afraid to ask. So he just talks. He talks to her. And more than anything, he wants to tell her how he feels, how much he cares and needs her to be happy and safe. But he doesn't know what's right in this moment. And he talks until her head is clear again, but by then it's almost too late.
First he pulls her into the river, and then he pulls her up from it, clasping her daylight ring in his hand. And he keeps a vigil by her bedside until she wakes up. And while he does, he thinks of all the times he sat at this windowsill, watching her, waiting for her, trying to protect her, trying to scare her, trying to get her to admit her feelings. It feels as though his whole life has happened on that bench, and when she wakes up, the pattern continues. He holds her hand and breathes in the feeling right before he admits that Stefan was being honorable. But his words don't seem to change the look on her face, and he has to squash his hope down before it rises out of his throat and spills out into the room.
But later, he sees her in her black dress, hiding behind Caroline, and she looks so nervous but he has no idea why. She fidgets and shuffles, and he's never seen her less sure of herself. So when she follows him downstairs to talk, he has no idea what's coming, what could be going through her head. He tries to stay calm, but he's predicting the worst. She's leaving town. Maybe Stefan proposed. What could be worse than that? So when she says the one word he was least expecting, his entire world freezes, the rotation of his planet stops, and he can't do anything but let every wash of emotion show on his face.
You.
Disbelief.
Shock.
Surprise.
Hope.
More disbelief.
Then,
Understanding.
Relief.
Joy.
Love.
You.
And he's still questioning, but her face says it all. The way she looks at him softly, willing him to understand all of the meaning packed into that one word. God, she looks so beautiful. Even more so because she's looking at him and saying what he's always wanted to hear from her.
You.
So when the moment is broken by an intruder, he feels like he's been punched in the stomach and he almost folds over with the weight of disappointment and the aching in his heart at not taking the opportunity to kiss her or say something. He walks away, but his mind doesn't leave her for the rest of the day. And he stares at her from across the crowd and he thinks about her, somehow more than he ever had before. He didn't think it was possible for her to fill his mind even more, but she does now. And all he wants is to hold her, kiss her, and feel her reciprocate completely for once, body and heart.
When she shows up at his house that night, he puts his desires on the back burner because she needs someone to just be there for her. The hurt she feels of betrayal, judgment, and uncertainty doesn't make the timing right. So he offers her his best bourbon, sits with her and listens. But when she says she's not good at this life, he can't help but put it out there. He has never seen her more beautiful, more confident, more fully alive. So he tells her. And somehow that opens her up because a minute later they're dancing together. And he feels her eyes on him like a physical touch, and the way she places her hand in his is so purposeful and real. And the connection between them is undeniable, and he's never been more nervous in his entire life. But when he spins her and she hurtles back at him, a comet blazing through his life, lighting up his world and burning through every protective layer, he knows. He knows it's right, and he pulls her into his arms and their lips meet again, somehow more perfect every time.
Even though he's wanted it this whole time, he's not expecting her to go this far, to give it all to him. But the mask of indifference and uncertainty she's been hiding behind all these months has been ripped away, and she is completely clear about what she wants. So he gives her what she wants and takes what he needs. And her hands are tangled in his hair, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her fingers pushing into his chest and ripping away his shirt. He wants to freeze this and make every moment last an hour.
When they reach his bed and he's laying there looking up at her, there of her own volition, looking down at him with lust and affection in her eyes, he almost stops to pinch himself and make sure it's not a dream before leaning up into her and molding his form to hers. She's so beautiful and perfect and lovely and he lays kisses across her body and runs his fingers along her soft skin, smoothing over her arms until his hands meet hers and intertwine with them. And every time she stretches her long, slender neck to reach out and kiss him, he breathes her in as deeply as he can, tasting her tongue, inhaling her scent. All of his senses are invaded by her, and he feels like he's drowning the sweetest death. And he can't believe it when their bodies meet and push and pulse together. Part of him never thought this would happen, and here she is, with her whole life in his hands. His hands that touch and squeeze and caress and push and slide. His hands that pull noises from her he's only dreamt about. And even though he knows she's coming undone as he kisses her mouth, slips his hand behind her neck to grip her tightly, hooks his fingers beneath her knee to lift her closer to him, and takes her for his own, there's something so stoic and calm about her that grounds him. She doesn't exaggerate or embellish, crying out dramatically. She sees him and knows him and feels every molecule of him. Her small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, enough to tell him she's enjoying herself. But everything else about her is steady and true, and she pulls him down like gravity and breathes life into his lungs and pumps blood back into his heart. And even though he wants so much more than her body, even though what he truly craves is her heart, her love, he savors this moment, this sweetness that makes him feel more human than he has in a hundred years.
In the morning, when he first opens his eyes and she's not warm in the sheets beside him, his heart sinks. He pictures her face filled with panic, regret, disgust. He softly calls out her name, just to be sure, and when she appears in the doorway, relief floods him, though he tries not to let her see how vulnerable he is to her. She gets back into bed, wearing not much more than one of his shirts, and it takes effort to stop himself from taking her again, right in that moment, she's so incredibly sexy. Instead, he takes a second to soak in her sunshine and smile. He brushes the hair from her face and plays with a tendril, moving the silky strands in his fingers. She's still here. She's here, and she's willingly with him. No games, no uncertainty, no fear. She's watching him as he basks in her, and she asks what he's thinking. She sounds like she's intrigued, but she also sounds like she's playing with him a little. Like a little girl with a mischievous glint in her eye who already knows the answer but asks the question anyway. When he tries to hide a smirk and dodge the question, she pushes it again. He can't meet her eyes at first because he's part embarrassed, part vulnerable, partially afraid his love will shoot out of his eyeballs if he looks at her. But he wants her to know, so he tells her.
I'm happy.
And when she smiles, he knows that she already knew the answer and that she feels the same. And it floods him with so much love that he doesn't stop himself now, and he loves her with every inch of his being. He loves her with his fingers brushed across her cheek and her lips, his hand cupping her chin, asking her to look at him because he can't stop himself from being possessive of her. He loves her with his lips skirting down her hips, his tongue dipping beneath her panties to make her gasp his name. He loves her when she looks up at him and he can see she knows exactly what she does to him. He loves her with his hands moving from her soft breasts down to her thighs, burning like a trail of fire down her body. He loves her while she clutches at his skin and drags tracks down his back and consumes all of him, and he loses himself in her for good.
When they finally manage to separate and get out of bed, he stops her in the hallway and forces her to take a moment to feel how right it is. How perfect they are for each other. He holds her face in his hands, drifts his thumb down her cheek and soaks in the moment, knowing with their luck in this town, nothing this amazing can last for long. He almost tells her again right then, partially to reassure her but mostly because he just feels it all over his skin, in his bones, sitting on his tongue, waiting to spill out.
I love you, Elena.
But even though he knows it's right and knows that she feels it, he needs to hear it from her. She said it with her body and her hands and her skin, but he needs to hear the words fall from her lips.
Because he predicted it, he's almost not surprised when Stefan drops the bomb. Stefan tells him that he inadvertently sired Elena. He doesn't know then how the phrase "sire bond" will haunt him for weeks, but he knows he hates the whole situation with the deepest ache in his gut. And when he goes to her to secretly confirm it, he almost vomits when she downs the blood bag like it's lemonade on a hot summer day. Instead, he plasters the smallest smile on his face, and the minute she goes back to class, he and Stefan leave to find a way around it. And when he gets home the next day to break the news to her, she already knows, and her knowledge gives her the upper hand. He knows he has to let her go, that he can't stay with her if it's all been a lie, both for her sake and his own. When she reaches out to hold him to her and tell him that she knows it's real, he can feel the hope rising in his chest, but he beats it down. If it rises and doesn't win, it will kill him. So he kills it first. And when she reaches out to touch his cheek with her soft, warm, compassionate touch, he fights like hell to not feel a thing.
The next few days are torture. They wake up together one day, resisting the urge to rip each others clothes off, but by the end of that same day, they part ways. He tries his hardest to tell her to leave him and to mean it permanently, but he knows it's weak at best. She gets in the car to drive away, but the softest brush of her lips against his gives him a tiny flash of optimism that her feelings are as true as he wants them to be. The days following are even worse because that hope is crawling around his brain, making a mess and trading places with doubt every few minutes. He goes through the day, trying to act as normal as possible. Every second is a wasteland of waiting, until she calls him. And he listens to bits and pieces of her day and soaks in the inflection of her voice, holding to every word. He's concentrating too hard and he almost misses the way her tone changes when she says she realized something. But he picks up on it and listens to each word come out of her mouth so specifically that he has to stop himself from crushing the phone in his hand. And then it's out there. And she says it. Each word like gold from her lips.
I love you.
He almost can't believe it, so he doesn't say anything, he just soaks it in. And in the pause, she says it again.
I love you.
And it's the sweetest thing, and it has to be real. It has to be. But he doesn't feel like he'll really know until she's standing in front of him and he can see her lips move and hear her heart beat and touch her cheek as she says it. So he asks her to come to him so he can experience this moment he has always wanted in person, with her in his arms.
She does, but of course, by then it's already been ruined. Her brother is on a vampire killing rampage, and in the course of everything, he's been compelled to hunt and kill Jeremy. Regardless of how unbearable it would be to hurt her, he genuinely doesn't want to hurt Jeremy either, and he struggles with all his power against the compulsion. When she calls out to him to help him fight it, he tries so hard to fight with her. To listen to her words and turn away from the hunt. But whether it's because the compulsion is too strong or because he's still afraid of what loving her might mean, he just can't. And when he wakes up later in the basement of the boarding house, kept separate from Elena until further notice, he's upset but not surprised.
A few days later, he's free with no clue as to what's different. By the time he makes it upstairs, he realizes that a lot has happened and plans have changed, but he almost shakes with relief when he sees the look on Elena's face as he walks in. And when she stands and reaches out for him, he wants to kiss her and thank her and tell her he loves her, but her brother and the Bennett witch are there watching everything. So he squeezes her and breathes her in. And when Stefan comes mouthing off about him controlling Elena, he punches Stefan in the face. If it was really up to him, he'd rather stake Stefan in the heart for all the trouble he's caused out of jealousy and bitterness. The best part is that Elena doesn't seem to mind.
When they all leave for some deserted island to follow a crazy professor who's promising the cure for vampirism and an introduction to an ancient named Silas, he's nervous as hell. Almost everyone who could possibly cause a problem is there on that island and several people more than likely want to kill him right now. He knows that every step is bringing them towards a cure that might turn Elena away from him, so he keeps an eye on her while trying to keep his distance. That night, he tries to brush her affections off and not cling to them too tightly. She does everything she can to promise him her feelings won't change. He wants to hang on to every word like a life raft, but now he's just afraid that when each promise proves to be false it will drown him. Even when she asks him to become human with her, he can't believe it, can't accept it, can't entertain the thought. And he falls back on all his bad habits and walks away.
But it doesn't matter because everything goes horrifyingly wrong when Jeremy is killed. His blood is drained and his neck is snapped and Elena's sanity goes out the window. There is no comfort. There is no hope. There is no love that is strong enough to pull her from this right now. He watches her as she denies it for a while, but he's there standing behind her in the room when she opens her eyes for the first time and sees her brother's lifeless body. He swears he can feel his own heart splintering and cracking as the reality rushes across her face. There's a hole forming in his chest and the ragged edges grow wider as he watches her fall apart. She has grounded him and brought him back to life, but he can't do the same for her right now and it's killing him. He watches her tear the house apart, pouring lighter fluid and bourbon on every valuable memory and lighting the flame. When it burns to her fingers while she cries, he catches the match before it ignites her whole world, and for a brief moment he hopes that they can pull her back from the dangerous edge she is balancing on. But she keeps on going, barreling down tracks of grief, unable to stop it from bearing down on her. Finally, he kneels with her and holds her in his arms, wanting to pour his love into her and promise it will all be ok. But it may never be. So he gives her permission to do the one thing that might help her. Turn it all of. He touches her face and soaks her in one last time, knowing that she may not feel the same about him afterward. He looks her in the eye and tells her he wants her to turn it off. And she does. And she lights the match and walks away from everything she loves, including him.
Every minute of the day, he has to remind himself that he asked her to turn it off for her own good, for her safety and for her sanity. When everyone you love has died or abandoned you, there's no reason to feel and sometimes no reason to live. At least not for a little while. And he hopes it only lasts a little while because the soft, warm girl he has loved in one way or another since the day he laid eyes on her is now a version of herself that rivals her evil doppleganger. She is all manipulation and selfishness, leaving him behind for her own agenda. But no matter how many times she runs from him, he follows her. She ran while she was human and while she still had her emotions on, and he followed her then, so why should he stop now?
His tactics change, but his love doesn't diminish. He can't help but feel like an ass when he finds himself wishing they could have a normal prom together. Of all the things he wanted from Elena, a typical high school life was never one of them. Still, anything that might keep her with him is worth a shot. So he follows her even when she doesn't want him to, and he slips in words like "boyfriend" and tries to flirt with her like he used to. And of course, none of it works and he knows he's just fighting against something that he asked her to do himself. And even though he knows Stefan is only trying to help her find herself again, it rips into him when he sees them dancing, their faces close together, sharing some moment he doesn't want to know about. But nothing at prom works, and the only hope he feels is when her brain is being turned into goo by Bonnie and she calls out for him. But that doesn't last long.
Things manage to get worse, to the point that she sets herself on fire to prove that they could never hurt her enough to snap her out of her emotionless state. But her taunting brings him the idea that will eventually get her back, and he takes what might be the biggest risk of his life when he slips Jeremy's ring on Matt's finger and shoves him in her path. And he knows that she can't resist. Her childhood friend and her first love will stand in front of her, begging for his life, but she won't be able to stop herself from feeding, not after being locked up for days. She'll go after Matt, and he will be there to snap the boy's neck. And when he does, he looks up to see real pain and real heartache flash in her eyes, and he knows it worked. She thinks she's lost him, and somehow more death is what she needed to flip it all back on. Because when she realizes that Matt is still alive, it births hope in her that she had forgotten about. And in the midst of this shitstorm of her dead heart and her broken open life, she wakes up again. Even though he knows the fight isn't over, he clings to her new hope like it belongs to him, too.
He watches her recover slowly, letting in a little emotion at a time. But part of him wonders if she really flipped it back on at all because she's still so cold and detached. And she's choosing to focus on the wrong things, namely killing Katherine. He knows she's young and needs to cling to whatever is going to get her through the day, and he tries to be supportive and helpful. But all day long his heart aches for his Elena back. The girl he thought he'd get back when she relearned her emotions. The girl that stole his heart with her wide smile and her softness. He clings to that version of her as he watches the version in front of him obsess over her enemy, pigeonholed into one motive. And she tries so hard to convince him that killing Katherine will assuage all of the horrible things that have happened to her, but as much as he wants to give her everything she asks for an infinitely more, he knows her well enough by now to know he can't. Not in this moment.
And in retribution for his love that comes in the form of defiance, he gets a knife to the gut. She stabs him and runs after her misguided motive and he's left on the floor, wondering how he can possibly love her better than he already has. And before he can come to a conclusion, the only person besides her who could ever comfort him reaches down and lifts him from the floor. His confusion and distrust are short lived and disappear completely when Alaric pops open locker 42 to retrieve their hidden bottle of scotch.
Bonnie has been playing games with their greatest enemy yet and in the process, the supernatural veil comes down around them, explaining Alaric's presence but not much else yet. They stop Silas, and Jeremy saves Elena from Kol, bringing her fully back to them in the process. He watches Elena face each of them and apologize, himself, Stefan, little witchy. And hope flares in his chest once again because she finally seems real, seems like herself. But he knows that her reunion with Jeremy is the most important thing so he lets it all go for now so that she can be happy and have more time with her brother. And he knows that he's growing and changing and breaking and bleeding and learning and all of this pain she's brought in his life is worth it in this moment.
She gets two members of her family back with no idea when they'll disappear again, and he gets shot with venom bullets. And that's how they realize that not only did Alaric, Jeremy, and Lexi show up but all of the hunters and collateral damage from Bonnie's expression triangle have returned, too along with Kol. He knows that no matter how much luck has been on his side in the past, there's no way he can survive two werewolf bites in one lifetime. He won't tell her about it yet, but he knows Klaus would never set foot back in Mystic Falls just to cure his dumb ass. He's in his room trying to think of how to tell her and wondering if his impending death will prove that she does or doesn't care when she comes in to talk to him. He tries to hide it, but his heart is beating its way out of his chest as he fixes his face to stay nonchalant and hands over the cure. When she smiles but won't accept it, he stays calm on the outside but can't help but wonder if in refusing the cure, she's refusing him. Until he realizes she's being the martyr she's always been and won't take it until the ghosts and hunters are gone and done threatening their home. So he pushes through, gives it to her, watches her sigh and give it right back, and hopes that he's doing the right thing. It's the only thing he ever hopes for anymore.
When she does discover the unhealed wound in his shoulder and immediately wants him to take the cure, his heart drops yet again because martyr Elena just went back on everything she ranted about a second ago and he doesn't know if he's mad at her inconsistency or floored that she would give it up to save him. Maybe there's more hope than he thought.
He sacrifices his own body to more venom bullets just to buy them more time. To buy Elena her graduation. To buy Jeremy time with his sister. To buy himself some redemption before he goes. He does all this just to find out he didn't need to because Klaus does the unexpected and shows up to let him live. He knows Klaus really showed up for Caroline, but if his own life is restored in the process, who is he to judge.
Elena comes in to his room that night. And when she slaps him so hard he tastes blood from his own broken skin, he can only seem to find pride within him. She's always been a fighter, and the day she stopped, he thought he lost her forever. But here she is again, and that makes him feel more alive and strong enough to take a thousand hits for her and from her. But his pride is short lived and quickly replaced by more fear and self loathing.
Later, when she finds him by the fireplace, he's drinking and sulking. She just slapped him and walked away and didn't say anything else. She just hit him and left. And he knows that whatever he did, it was too far. Too far away from her, too selfish. And it hurts too much, so he doesn't let her talk first. He needs to say exactly what he's feeling for once. It doesn't matter how true or untrue it is. How self-righteous or self-deprecating it is. He just needs to say it.
So he says it all. Words that might be comforting or sweet if they were said differently. Words that try to convey his heart and how much he loves her entire being, vampire, human, bitch, sweetheart, all of it. How a drop in the ocean is not enough for him when he is desperate and parched and aching for her whole heart, for all of eternity. He can't apologize, he won't. But in his own twisted way, he will tell her exactly how much he loves her once and for all. Because if she's going to let him go now that her humanity is back and she's not sired, then he might as well crash and burn while he pours his love out in the space between them. So he says it all and ends with the thing they both know but have chosen to ignore so far.
I'm wrong for you.
And each breath after those words feels shorter and shorter because he's letting her go and loving her with it. And he can't stand the sad look on her face or the goodbye she's about to say, so he turns back to the fire with resignation and waits for her to leave.
But she doesn't. Not even figuratively. She stays. And she talks. And with every word, hope grows and stretches inside of him, but he pushes it down again because he can't let himself believe her. But she won't let him run this time. And even as she admits that he's bad for her, she's admitting just as much that he is good for her. And that her choice may be wrong but it's not something she's going back on. And she talks and he breathes and he can't believe it until suddenly he can. And she finally says what he has waited to hear, what has felt like lifetimes coming. And it is untainted, whole, intact, undamaged, and perfect.
I'm in love with you.
And those words break apart everything inside of him. And if he were a bigger man, he would probably cry because her face and her heart and her words are all finally coming together to give him what he needs and craves. And his body has taken over and he can't stop himself from reaching out to her and kissing her and feeling her skin against his hands. Hands that have bled for her and fought for her. Hands that have loved her before but never like this, under these circumstances. Hands that have given everything to her but have never known complete reciprocation. Hands that belong to her, on her, with her. Hands that will never ever let her go. And a heart that is finally full and complete and wholly here because she's given him the thing he has always wanted most from her, and there is nothing else in the world.
I love you,
Damon.
Eeep! I love their love story. I worked on this for weeks! It was so hard to smush in all the details of the last two episodes of season 4, and I had to go back and watch both episodes completely to get it right. This story was mostly for me and the way it made me feel, but I hope you enjoyed reading it! I love seeing stories from Damon's perspective. Thank you for reading!
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