A/N: OK, here comes the last chapter/epilogue! It's shorter than others, but I decided to split the previous one this way to make it logical. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed this little journey, because I surely did like to write it!
P.S. Seems like the right time to post a chapter with this title. After two weeks of mud and puddles it IS snowing again in my city! =)
Chapter IV
These lands have never known
(These lands have never known)
A snowfall like this.
And snow keeps falling down.
(And snow keeps falling down).
The Earth's magnificent.
Magnificent and clean.
...
Snow's flying, whirling, flying,
Coming closer to the Earth.
Winter's hiding
(hiding) everything -
Everything there was
Before you -
In the snow.
(A Snowfall Like This - Kozlova L.)
Snow Me Up
One. Two... Seconds fly. Leisurely. Lazily... It is eternity creeping up on me and purring into my ear. It is freedom calling out. Nothing is important. Nothing is real, but his touch, his breath, his heartbeat. They are my only guidance in this maelstrom of sensation. It is like we are brought into a dream, because time and space do not exist there. Everything is black, but I feelthe colors burning. Everything is still, but I feel the world moving. There are fireworks, there are lights. Everything is silent, but I feel music and mirth.
We are lost. And we don't want to be found.
Something cold is caressing my cheek, tenderly drawing circles on my flushed skin. How can his ice-cold hand still set me on fire? Burn even. I want to warm it, to share my flame with him. Slowly, I bring my palm to my cheek to cover his hand. Damon takes in a ragged breath. Little by little, my fingers are getting closer and...
...My hand connects with my wet cheek. Confused, I flutter my eyes open and stare down at my palm. A tiny drop winks at me before rolling down and splattering on my knee. I blink. Another drop. Another icy kiss on my cheek. Everything seems to be surreal, something is not right... like I am misplaced. Frowning, I look up at the crying skies. Winter rain is mercilessly striking my face. But why should I care. It's always drizzling here on Christmas... Right?
Like Stefan has put it, everything is... normal, even though it's definitely not. But I am OK with that. Right? All this nonsense about having normal Christmas, about being a normal boyfriend, etc... I am cool with that. I have decided to be cool with that. It's not like I can't pretend for my friends' sake. Or for Stefan's. So, everything is fine. I am fine.
So, what the hell is wrong with me?! Why does it feel like I am missing something?
Another raindrop gives me a sloppy peck on my forehead. I wipe it away in annoyance. I shouldn't be here. No, not here! What am I talking about? Well, yes, I should be at home, casting plastic smiles at Caroline and Stefan, tasting pudding. Not here under the clock tower, soaking wet. Not here... But somewhere else...
I am so engrossed in thought that a sudden hand on my shoulder gives me a jump, a gasp of surprise escaping my throat.
"Dammit, Elena! The hell are you doing here?" As I whirl around I come face to face with infuriated Damon, his eyes scorching. I blink in confusion. Surely you're not going to cry? What...? "Jesus, you are soaked through. Elena..." he complains and makes a grimace as if dealing with a naughty child. Oh, come on! You're better than spilling tears over me! I keep on staring at him, absolutely baffled. "Do you want to catch cold, so that you can use an excuse to spend the rest of this normal Christmas in bed? Really? Duh... Ele-e-e-na..." the elder Salvatore moans theatrically and massages his temples in exasperation. I don't say a word. I wait for another strange remark from him... When none comes, I shake my head violently. Something is very wrong with me. Now I am hearing Damon's voice in my head! How normal is that?!
"Sorry, I was just..." My voice drifts off into silence. Furrowing my brows, I take into my surroundings again. I was just what? Why am I even sitting here? Now fear is getting a firm grip on me as I realize that I have a gap in my memory. The last thing I remember is talking to Damon about... What exactly were we talking about? OK, don't panic. There is a thing that I think that I remember. But there is also another thing I kind of recall... Which one is real?! Is any? Or... can they both be true. "Hey..."
A warm hand touches my cold cheek, and a bolt of energy rushes through my body, slamming right into my mind with a force that breaks all my memory blocks. I recoil in shock from Damon, covering my mouth to stifle a yell. It is Mystic Falls. God, it is Mystic Falls! This last experience (or should I call it reality-travel now?) was very - very - different. It was... all-consuming. It became my reality. The thought terrifies me. I have almost forgotten about my real self! Though, who says that this is my real self and not the other one... No, stop it! Thinking like this is dangerous. I am real, not that other Elena. Me, me, me. And this Damon. As his name crosses my mind, my eyes immediately find his bemused ones. He looks utterly lost and unsure, his sarcastic mask melting away from the heat of worry.
I don't think when I move and lock him in a tight embrace. Ahh, yes, guilty pleasure, to simply lie down and die in the snow. Carefully, like dealing with a wild animal, Damon wraps his arms around my waist, and I bury my face in his shoulder, holding back a sob. This is my Damon, not that other one. The real Damon, who is standing here, with me. In Mystic Falls. Not in the snowy desert at the nameless station. As much alive as he can be. Whiteness flashes before my eyes. Him lying on the snow, breathing hard and still smiling... still joking despite the pain in his wounded shoulder. For my sake... I hate it when you cry, you know? You must be crying just to spite me. A sob finally escapes me, but it doesn't escape Damon's sharp hearing.
"Hey... You are all soaked through without tears," he purrs into my ear while gently stroking my wet hair. "Damn, I hate it when you cry, Elena..." The dam breaks and I burst out in tears. And I can't stop. It's like watching him die from the werewolf bite all over again. Only worse. This time Damon didn't have a brother to save him. He had only useless me. Useless, stupid me! And he did... he...-
I knew what I was doing. It's not stupid. I don't want to let him go. I just can't. All these feelings... They are crushing me... But they also force me to keep moving. To climb up. Just like that other Elena couldn't feel alive without Damon's challenge, I can't live in a reality without my Damon. I feel his chin resting on my head. "What is it about?" he murmurs while rocking me gently. And I can easily discern this persistent note in his caring voice that tells me that he won't leave me along without an answer. A slight smile pulls at my lips despite all the tears. Damon will never just walk away. No, he would fight, and argue, and yell... and die to make sure I am really fine. It's now that I truly believe his words. Damon will choose me over anyone.
He already has once. And he will again. Without hesitation.
It scares me. A lot. But another side of me, the one that other Elena tried to shut down, snickers in disbelief. I let out a defeated sigh. It does terrify me. To realize that someone is ready to literally wrack the world for me is the most scaring thing I've ever known.
And the most heartening, the most delightful one. I can deny it all I want. But it won't become any less real.
I am an awful person. Why can't they see it? ... Because it was me who drew an image of a tough and happy Elena, and hid behind it. Just like my last time. Another portrait. "I am an awful person," I mumble, this time aloud. This is partly a reason for my crying. Damon can take it for my answer. A low chuckle takes me aback and I slightly tilt my head to look at him.
"Then I must be a saint," he doesn't even bother to put sarcasm into the tone. Damon just shrugs at my scowl. "Oh, Elena... Do you seriously need a lecture about 'no-one-is-perfect'? We are all awful. The question is how much awful we are. Well, I'd say that you are very awful at being awful. Don't worry, though," he winks at me playfully then. "I can teach you a thing or two about being really awful. If you ask me nicely."
A small chuckle erupts from my lipa as I open them to say something teasing in reply, but words freeze on my lips as a tiny white flake flies between us and lands on his chest. Damon stares at it in bewilderment. "Snow," I whisper breathlessly. Another snowflake nests comfortably in his hair. And another, and another...
"It is snowing. Damn, it's really snowing!" he cries out in disbelief that is mixed with amusement. We raise our heads and watch in amazement waltzing snowflakes. They sparkle in the street-lamps' light and quickly cover gray roads of Mystic Falls, turning it into a small snow-dwelled town from a beautiful Christmas post-card. Lit by the yellow light we stand there under the clock tower and watch snow fall around us, oblivious to the biting frost or clocks' hands that have already creeped over twelve. At last, Damon shifts his gaze to my face. A grin twists his lips as he tousles my hair, snow falling from it like an avalanche. Laughing, I step back and shove him with all the force I can manage... Well, it was much easier when I did it with Jeremy... He would lose his feet and fall into a snowdrift, and I would stand over him giggling. But Jeremy isn't a 150-years-old vampire who is like a mountain and won't even budge.
The world turns upside down. I blink. Next moment I am half buried in a snowdrift, glowering at the smirking vampire. "Oops," Damon says innocently, easily dodging my snowball. He falls next to me then. "Wow."
"It is so..." I trail off, not sure about the adjective to describe it.
"Romantic?" he suggests playfully, and I give his forearm a light punch, not bothering to suppress a chuckle.
"I was going to say magic," I reply in a mockingly reproachful voice.
"I can pretend that I bought it," Damon whispers as if sharing a terrible secret. I want to shove him playfully, but he suddenly catches my hand and presses it to his warm lips. "Hey, you are freezing." I don't feel cold... Either I am too excited or too my libs are too numb by now to feel anything. "How about something really magic without turning to an icicle?" His voice is ringing with a promise of something thrilling, making me tilt my head in curiosity. He props himself on the elbows then and stares at me with this dangerous mystery I learnt to trust. "Are you up for another journey?"
"Another?..." I repeat under my breath, a soft smile grazing my lips. Damon doesn't know, of course, about the first journey. He is probably referring to our small trip that has nothing to do with trains and snow... But he made a promise once. And, somehow, deep down he does remember.
"Yup. Surely you wanna enjoy a longer journey in my company? Our last one was awfully short," Damon drawls out with a feigned pout. Chuckling, I shake my head in amazement. Is it even possible? Does other me know about this reality...? Is it how...- A naughty snowflake flies right into my mouth, causing me to cough. "Careful, Elena. You don't want to choke on your magic snow. It is very...-"
I don't let him finish as I grasp his hand and spring up to my feet. Who cares about 'how' and 'why'? This is real. So very real.
As I walk away from the clock tower, I toss over my shoulder, a mischievous grin splitting my face. "You coming? Someone promised me a long journey."
And it is finally snowing.
