Title: Counting Stars
Summary: They loved each other like this summer would be their last. Post season four graduation, Damon/Elena centric
Notes: Of course I decide to write a lighthearted group of one shots, and it's already turned into drama and such. The next one will be fluffy I promise!

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Loving Stefan was easier, Elena decided one morning. She guessed she had always known it, but as she stood looking into her bathroom mirror with tears in her eyes and her hands in her hair, she owned up to it.

Her and Damon fought a lot. He frustrated her to no end, like the night before. They'd been in a club, reminiscent of their college visit a few months back, except this time the dancing with dirtier and more meaningful, and Bonnie wasn't lingering disapprovingly on the outskirts.

But it had happened.

It was an accident.

But she killed someone nevertheless.

"He had a heart condition," Damon had pleaded with her. "The stress of feeding was just too much. It could have happened to anyone."

"But why me?" she hissed unreasonably, her fist flying to the nearest lamppost. "Leave me alone, Damon. You think since I killed people when my humanity was off, that makes everything okay. Well it doesn't."

"I never said it did, Elena," he reasoned, walking up to her with both hands up. "I'm just saying there's some baggage that comes with being a vampire. Accidents happen. You have to get past this kind of stuff."

"You don't understand!" She turned away, beginning to walk back to his car, hands stuffed in her leather jacket and eyes streaming. "You'll never understand."

"You're right, Elena," he finally said, eyes narrowing as he stopped his advance. "I'm never going to be Stefan. I thought you knew what you signed up for. I'll be there for you until the end, and you know that, but I'm not going to pretend I'm okay with this. You're going to hurt yourself. Here..."

She looked like she was internally arguing with herself over what he said as he approached her, reaching for her hand.

Being with Damon was about learning to accept who she was. It was about being stuck in hard situations and having to think and fight her way out. It was unconditional love without the coddling and sheltering; he was the raw everything, raw emotions, passions, anger, and understanding.

She didn't have to hide.

"No," she whispered, jerking her hand back. "I can't, I – "

"Elena," he said, straightening her out, his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes. "Shh. Get it together."

And then she punched him repeatedly, hand after hand, fists flying against his chest. She wasn't sure if she was screaming, if her mind registered that the searing noise was coming from her mouth, but it didn't matter in that moment. Damon backed up to the lamppost with a dent from her fist earlier as she shoved him, tears showing no signs of stopping.

"It's – not – fair!"

After a few more jabs, he tried grabbing her hand again; this time she froze, eyes locking with his, searching. Then she pulled her hand away for the second time. It rested with the other at her side, hesitant and taunt.

She kissed him in a flash, on him in the speed of lightening, and he didn't even seem surprised.

Full on, desperate, trembling hands fiercely pulling him closer until they found a place to hold onto his shirt in tiny fists. She kissed him hungrily, her body flushed against his, and he stood there, following with a matched aggression but letting her have her way. When she pulled back, her forehead rested on his, her chest was rising and falling rapidly.

She didn't shake anymore, and she wasn't crying.

"You're going to be fine," he whispered into her ear, pressing a kiss against her forehead and then nudging her to start walking towards the car.

She grabbed his hand and didn't let go until they entered the boarding house.