She can feel her tears slowly cascading down from her eyes to her cheeks. She tried to finish packing her things but she can barely move – it feels like her muscles were frozen. Like her whole system just shut down seeing him exit their room. His retreating back is not a sight she is familiar with. Damon usually pushes her; challenges her. It is not like she's secretly hoping for him to stop her from leaving. She knows who Damon is and he is not one to give up a fight. But this is also the same Damon who would always put her interest above his own, the same Damon who can't be selfish with her, and the same Damon who wanted her to live the life she wanted – the life he knows she deserves.

She finished packing her things, making sure she's not forgetting something. She doesn't want to come barging in the next day immediately just because she left a sweater. She scoffed at herself. If there is a reason she'll be here tomorrow it will be because she can't spend more time away from home – away from Damon. She zipped her bag and looked around the barely lit room. She stole a glance at the bath tub, remembering how much she enjoyed soaking in the foamy suds, feeling Damon's naked back while he rubs her arms that electrifies her whole body, making her feel the most loved woman in the world because yeah, she is. She sat down on the bed for a while, feeling the satin sheets on her palms, smiling at the memories of the summer of their lives. How Damon would pepper her with kisses, the nights they spent drowning in each other's love, how she would wake up every day spooned in his embrace while she'll spend a good couple of hours just staring at his beautiful sleeping form. She didn't notice that the tears have been falling once again from her eyes. She took a deep breath and finally stood up, taking her duffel bag with her and sparing one final glance before shutting the door closed.

She was surprised to see him by the door. She expected him to be in the parlor, drinking his finest bourbon until dawn. She wanted to say something but no words came out of her mouth. What is the appropriate thing to say before leaving the love of your life? Is there really a proper way to say goodbye? She just kept her head down, trying to avoid his eyes, those blue eyes she truly adores; those eyes that haunt her in her sleep. Those eyes that she misses the moment he closes his eyes to sleep. But it is no use; she could feel his intensified gaze until she reached the door of her car. She started the engine and looked at the rear view mirror. He gave her a small smile and she was compelled to do the same. She pulled over the drive way, Damon's physique is becoming smaller in sight until he finally closes the door. Nostalgia hit her like a freight train. Not so long ago, he opened his door to her and offered his home to share when her brother was a threat to her life. She kept driving as sweet memories flashed before her eyes. The first night she became his, the night she first told him how real her love is for him and the night she told him that she is not sorry to be in love with him. Until she reached Wickery bridge and can no longer contain her bottled feelings. She pulled over and wiped away her tears with her hands. There's a pit in her stomach that she already felt before. Just 2 years ago, she was driving away from Damon and then died on this same bridge. She doesn't remember how death felt – or even how drowning felt like. It was peaceful; it was serene. But this one is painful, the kind of pain that slowly eats you up alive. The pain that starts from the bottom of your heart and ends up in the tips of your fingers. She's just denying it but she knows exactly what she's feeling. This is how she felt when she let Matt drive her away from Damon – when she chose to let him go.

She cried, oh boy did she cry. She almost felt the steering wheel deform beneath her strong hands but she tried to compose herself. She took her phone from her pocket and saw her speed dial number one. She smiled an actual smile that reached her ears. She had a long internal debate on whether she should call him or not but she decided against it. This is why she didn't let him drive to Whitmore. It would only take one touch for her to crumble; one touch for her to swallow her pride and eat her words. She knows she'd take him back in a heartbeat and so will Damon. She pressed the delete button and when the confirmation box appeared, she just pressed cancel. What's the point? It's not like it will delete him from his mind or her heart – as if that is possible. It is not like it will change anything, considering she has his number memorized, engraved in her mind just like he is engraved in her heart.

The drive to her dorm was a haze. She doesn't remember how she got here but at least she's safe. She changed into her comfy pyjamas and already felt a certain sadness creeping inside her. Ever since she started living with Damon, sleeping in his shirts that end just above her knees made her sleep better at night. She tried to push the thought out of her mind and lied on the bed. The room was dark and to her luck Bonnie and Caroline are not around to grill her with questions she is not ready to answer. Or to relieve how he asked Damon to let her go and how he willingly gave her what she wanted – just like always. She felt her eyes being damp again and stopped it before the tears fall. She's tired of crying and she doesn't want to cry. Not anymore. This is for their own good and she knows they did what they have to do because they love each other. She scooted to his side of the bed and hugged the covers tightly. She still feels cold even when she's under the thick layers of the comforter on her bed. She sighed, knowing that this coldness isn't going to fade. That the only thing that could kill the coldness enveloping her in the dead of night and the coldness inside her is Damon's arms holding her through the night to give her warmth.