His gaze felt like fire on her skin.
She could feel him staring at her. She couldn't see him, but she could feel him. Feel the way he watched her laugh with her friends, sip her drink, brush her hair back from her face. She could always feel him.
She knew how he felt about her. It was hardly a secret. The way he looked at her, when he thought she wasn't looking. He thought he was doing well at keeping his feelings inside, for her sake, but she knew. Of course she knew how could she not? Despite how well he tried to hide it, it was there. He was there. He was always there.
If she was being completely honest with herself, she didn't mind his constant presence. It actually made her feel… well, she wasn't quite sure what. But it made her feel something. She had an idea at least, by looking at photos, that she had lost something significant. But she just had no memory of loving him back. And he told her he needed to let her go, for her sake. Regardless, she felt a little better knowing he was still around, that he hadn't left her completely.
She remembered what he had told her. He didn't finish the memory, but she remembered what little he had shared. The rain. The stars. But most of all she remembered the look in his eyes as he was telling her. How his ice-blue gaze bore into hers, hopeful yet guarded, and sad. She honestly felt bad that the memories didn't return, when he looked at her like that.
And later that night she had asked him to finish the story. She half-remembered the night, and the rain, after stepping over the border into Mystic Falls. A flash of feeling, of something. She wanted to know the rest of the story. But he became distant. Saying he needed to let her go. And when she pushed him to finish the memory for her, he was cold. His answer was that it had gotten wet and muddy, so they got in the car and went home.
She didn't need to remember him, to remember loving him, to know he was lying.
So now she sat in the bar with her friends, pretending like she couldn't feel his gaze, heated on her skin. She pretended she didn't care he was lurking somewhere out of sight, watching her. And when Liam came over to the group, slinging his arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her temple, she pretended there wasn't a small part of her that wanted a different arm around her shoulder, or a different set of lips kissing her. But she couldn't let herself think about that. He said she needed to live without him. So here she was, living without him. She wondered at his way of letting her go however. Yes, she hadn't seen him around since he walked away from her. But she could feel him. It was strange. She knew he was close, even without catching sight of him.
After all, she hadn't completely forgotten the feeling of wanting him. Or she had, but when she opened her door that first time and finally saw his face again, something new happened. That half-smile, those eyes. She knew all the bad parts about him, the terrible things he'd done. But when she opened her door and saw him take that deep breath. Heard him start rambling about how he'd waited for that moment to make his way back to her. And despite all the odds, despite the lack of any good memories about him, she felt something. Or the potential start of something.
She wondered what he was feeling as he watched her with her friends, and her sort-of boyfriend. She could almost see him, sitting in a dark corner with a glass of bourbon in front of him, just staring at her. Drinking in every line of her face, the sound of her voice, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed. She could picture the scowl on his face when Liam arrived and touched her with a familiarity that he was no longer allowed to have. The comfortable way she settled into his embrace.
She wondered what he would think if he knew that she hadn't lost all her feelings towards him. Despite not remembering their life together, or how in love she had been, she felt as if there was something there, just out of reach. Before he'd come back, she had nothing good at all to remember him by. But seeing him again, there was something. When he told her at the ball that despite her not remembering, he did. He would have held on to her, in agony, rather than compelling his memories away. And she had walked out, because the strange half-feeling he stirred in her was terrifying. Here he was back from the dead, desperately in love with her, and she had no memory of it.
But all that didn't matter. She had needed to forget loving him, to survive the torture of losing him. And so she had. Completely. Well, until now. And she thought she'd been willing to try to get those memories back. But when he looked at her with those haunted eyes, she wasn't so sure. She wasn't sure she was brave enough to love someone as completely as he seemed to love her. And yet, if the stories were true, she had loved him that much. Maybe more. She'd taken the box of memories from its hiding place in her closet last night, and stared at each item in turn. The photos, the diaries. She'd held each item and willed with all her strength to break the compulsion. The more she looked at the items, the more she felt that there was something, just out of reach. But no amount of wishing had brought the memories back.
And so she sat, surrounded by friends, in the arms of another man, unable to take her mind off the one who watched her. But just as soon as she recognised the feeling of his gaze upon her, she felt the loss of it just as suddenly. She searched the crowd, eyes peering into every dark corner, seeking him out. But he had disappeared. And she felt the loss keenly.
She excused herself, citing a need for some fresh air, slipping out the side door to take a moment and pull herself together. The cool night air hit her, fresh against her face. She drew in a deep breath, closing her eyes and enjoying the freedom the night air gave her. She enjoyed the darkness, not having to pretend anymore. Pretend that things were still the same. That she was still completely into Liam, that she had no memory of the great love of her life.
The longer she stood outside the less she wanted to go back into inside, paste a fake smile on her face and pretend that everything was still the same as ever. She closed her eyes and tilted her face skyward, breathing the crisp air, enjoying the stillness of the night. But she knew she couldn't stay out there all night. Someone would come looking for her, and she would have to make up a story to explain her need to escape. So with a deep breath, she braced herself to go back in, and opened her eyes.
And there he stood.
He was leaning casually against the bricks, just staring at her. He didn't make a move to speak or acknowledge her. He just stood, and looked. And so she stayed still, and returned his gaze. His mouth quirked a little in the corner, in that way she was so familiar with. She jammed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, not sure what she should do. Should she say something? Did she head back inside? Instead she just stood, waiting for him to make a move, somehow indicate what she should be doing.
He pushed away from the wall and started to move towards her, that slow stalk that she knew so well. She stood her ground, and he stopped an arm's length away. He dipped his head, blue gaze meeting brown. He stared for a moment, and then brushed a stray strand of hair that the wind had blown across her face. His touch was feather light, his fingers as cool as the night air. His eyes burned into hers, searching for something in their depths. But then he blinked, broke their gaze, and the spell was broken. She took a half-step back, trying to gain some distance to clear her head. And when she looked back, he was gone. The faint memory of his fingertips on her cheek the only evidence that he was there at all.
And then it started to rain. And she remembered kissing him in the rain, on the bridge. And she remembered asking him to promise her forever.
She didn't feel like going back inside and pretending. She'd had enough of pretending that she had no memories, no feelings. She sent a quick text to Caroline letting her know that she was leaving, feigning tiredness, so she wouldn't worry, and then headed to where her car was parked. She didn't remember drive home, and then she was sitting in the lot, car idling. She let herself in to the empty dorm, and then before she knew it she was standing alone, not bothering to turn on the light, in exactly the same spot she had been standing where he had left her.
And with only a faint shift in the air as warning, he was there again.
"You remembered something." Somehow, he didn't sound surprised.
"You promised me we were forever."
"Well that's… inconvenient," he replied in that sardonic drawl of his.
"I don't understand. Why wouldn't you tell me the rest of the story?" She wasn't sure if she actually wanted to hear the answer. He didn't look like he wanted to answer. She took a step closer to him. He took a step back.
It didn't make sense.
"I don't understand Damon. You loved me. You still love me. Why aren't you fighting for my memories to come back?"
"Because you didn't fight for ME, Elena." The fierceness in his voice startled her. "I died, and you didn't fight for me. You didn't look for a way to get me back. I was gone for four months, and you removed me from your life. You gave up. I didn't think that was possible. And the worst part of it all? If it was the other way around, if it was you who died, I would have waited. I would have fought for you. I would never have stopped trying. And if there was absolutely no way possible to get you back, I would have gone to you. Because I meant it when I said forever."
He turned to walk away, but she reached out to grab his arm. He looked at her, confused. She could feel tears starting to form,
"What do you want, Elena? What could possibly be left to say?" He looked tired. Tired of fighting, tired of hurting.
"Please don't go. I want to remember. It feels like part of me is missing, like there's a hole that I don't know how to fill, where the memories of you, of us, once were. I want that back. If it's true, if we had this epic love that you say we did, I want that back."
"And what if it doesn't come back? What if the compulsion can't be broken?"
"Then we start again. Build new memories together."
He turned to look at her properly. She took a half step towards him, encouraged when he didn't step back. She kissed him once, lightly.
"Promise me this is forever. Our new forever"
"I promise."