A/N: I'm taking a small break from Dramione (just for a little bit, I promise!) and I'm writing this little Delena story. Hope you all like.

. . . . . .

She dreamed of him sometimes. She couldn't tell anybody about it because it felt like she would be admitting to something that was forbidden, but she dreamed of him sometimes. She could sit around and pretend she didn't, but when she woke up in the morning with the memory of the dream still fresh in her mind, there was nothing she could do but embrace it.

In her dreams, she was free from guilt and free from responsibility, free from the restrictions that held her in place. There was nothing to worry about. Nobody felt betrayed. No feelings were hurt. And so, in the deep recesses of her mind, she produced an imaginary world where she and Damon could be together, no strings attached. In her dreams, they sat on the front steps of her porch with her head rested against his shoulder.

There was conversation, but she could never remember what they talked about. All she remembered was this feeling of content that washed over her as his voice filled her ears. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close, and they would stay that way for a while.

And then, when the timing was right, she took his hand and led him to her bed.

"Are you sure?" he asked her, and she responded by pulling him into a kiss.

Their lips met hesitantly at first. She put her hands on his sides and pulled him closer, and he responded by deepening the kiss. She felt his tongue brush against her lips and his hands traveled up to her back. He touched her in a way that made her aware of every fiber in her body. A flame was already seeping through her skin, heating up her heart.

He broke the kiss just long enough to lock eyes with her and then his lips were back on hers. Something sparked inside her and she moaned into his mouth. Her hands went into the silky strands of his hair and then dipped lower, playing with the little hairs on the nape of his neck. She pressed herself as close to him as she possibly could, but it wasn't close enough.

One of his hands dipped under her shirt and made its way slowly up. He stopped at the curve of her stomach, his fingers running lightly over her belly button, before he continued his path upwards, stopping again at the center of her chest. He moved his hand in circles around her breast. Slowly, the circle got smaller and smaller until her nipple was hard and aching for his touch. In one swift motion, he pulled her shirt off over her head and they fell onto her bed together.

Half-naked, she watched him through heavy eyes as he hovered above her. He met her gaze and leaned in for another kiss before his head dipped lower. He took her nipple between his teeth and she gasped at the onslaught of pleasure. Her hands grabbed the edge of his shirt and she pulled at it, determined to have him just as naked as she was. He obliged.

Their chests pressed together. His legs moved between hers, nudging them apart. He eased himself on top of her and she could feel his hardness pressing against her. They moved together and they kissed again until her head was foggy and all she knew was how much she wanted him.

In her dreams, she gave him everything she had. She made love to him wholeheartedly.

The dream jumped forward. The sex was over and, tired but satisfied, she lay her head down on her pillow. "I didn't mean it, Damon," she told him. "I didn't mean what I said that night."

"What night?"

"Don't make me say it."

He half-smiled at her. "You mean the night I said I love you and you said that was a problem?" She made a face at him, but he took her hand and held on. "I know."

"Good." She closed her eyes. He ran his fingers over her palm, tickling her.

"What about now?" he asked. She waited for him to elaborate. "What if I said I love you now? What would you say?"

She looked at him, at those blue eyes, so guarded and yet so hopeful at the same, and her heart started speeding up. She could tell him the truth. She could tell him that everything was different when he was around – that she couldn't imagine what her life would have been like if she had never known him. She felt her heart knocking against her chest and she wondered if it was a sign. She looked at him and she knew, just this once, she didn't want to hurt him.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her voice was gone. She tried again, but something was wrong. His face was fading away. Something was pulling her back. She tried to hold onto him, tried to stay where she was, but she was moving, moving, moving, and then she was in her own bed. Somewhere downstairs, she could hear Alaric clattering around in the kitchen.

Even in her sleep, she couldn't tell Damon what he deserved to hear.

Her guilty conscience followed her even in her dreams.

. . . . . .

A/N: I KNOW, I KNOW. I wanted to give them a happy ending, but the last two episodes have left me feeling hopeless. I know it's not the end of Delena, but giving these two a happy ending seems much too fictional for now.

However, I gave them sex. Good enough, right? Let me know what you thought.