Damon's breathing was the first thing Elena became aware of while she drifted halfway between dreams and reality. Without opening her eyes, she used his steady inhales and exhales as a tempo to fully bring herself back to complete consciousness. Curled up on one edge of the bed while Damon was as far away as possible on the other side, Elena let the miles of blankets separate them. Despite the expanse stretching behind her, one of Damon's hands had breached the invisible border and was resting gingerly on the contour of her hip, the pads of his fingers scarcely making contact with her flesh, as if he was sure she'd disappear into smoke if he gripped with any real resolution.
Damon's touch reminded Elena of the promise he had made last night and she dwelled over if, even in sleep, he was attempting to rescue her a little.
A falter in the cadence of his breaths, along with his hand slipping off her skin and withdrawing, enlightened Elena to the fact he was waking up. She sighed deeply, the dull throb of a headache behind her temple a grim reminder of all the drinks she had consumed several hours ago, and then she turned over, opening her eyes to see Damon narrowly staring back at her with puckered brows.
"Why haven't you left him?" he questioned immediately, behaving as if they could just pick-up the conversation from last night like there hadn't been any break at all. The issue was visibly one he had been chewing over for a while, maybe even one that'd been keeping him up.
The buzzing in Elena's head grew louder and her mouth became increasingly more parched. "We're doing this again? Right now?" she retorted, doubting that she was ready for another intimate tell-all just yet. "While I'm laying in bed with you?"
"I want to understand and it's good for you to talk about it. If I let you stop now, it'll go back to being like getting blood out of a stone." He paused, anticipating an answer, his black hair a sublime contradiction to the cream pillowcase he was resting on. When Elena kept silent, he sat up and shook his head in frustration, turning away from her and swinging his legs over the side of the mattress.
Studying the map of muscles and sinew rippling under the span of his back, Elena bit her lip. She didn't want to regress after finally getting some of the weight off her shoulders. Besides, she felt a perplexing longing to make Damon understand how her justifications and rationale had landed her where she was today. There were, of course, a multitude of reasons why Elena stayed with Stefan and why she would always return. There was nobody else to rely upon and she'd never been good at being alone. Plus, she was nothing but a empty shell, and had no craving to better her life. Especially when she recognized there was not, by any means, any grass that was greener on the other side. She was weak.
But Elena chose to discard all those reasons and only divulge the most substantial explanation.
"There are times," she began, swallowing painfully and rolling onto her back, adjusting the sheet around her shoulders "when I really believe it's all my fault he is the way he is. Maybe I didn't love him enough, or do enough to save him." She sensed the bed dip and Damon recline back down next to her while she continued the flow of speech. "And if I'm to blame, how could I abandon my husband?"
While she waited for Damon to formulate a response, she scrutinized his ample bedroom for the first time. Not having the mental competence to do it last night, now she could discern glimpses of his personality reflected all around the sleekly decorated room. He was in the stack of classic books piled high next to his bed, in the lavish tub in his bathroom and in the dark tones of wood that surrounded them. It was strangely comforting.
"I could argue with you that it is just not true until I was blue in the face and you still wouldn't believe it." Damon eventually replied, the low, rich tones of his voice encircling her. "It not being your fault is something you're going to have to understand on your own." Another interlude followed. "Are you still in love with my brother?"
Together they turned onto their sides with a rustling of the comforter, finally facing each other again, intuitively knowing eye-contact was needed for the reply to a crucial question that even Elena wasn't certain on how to tackle.
"Do I still love him?" Elena repeated shakily, her gaze flitting from Damon's scrutiny "I don't like him." Trying to be as honest as she could, she elaborated "But I think I still love the man I married. Problem is, I'm not sure he exists anymore."
Something in the set of Damon's jaw and the way he looked at her as if he was truly seeing her made Elena consider that he possibly understood exactly what she meant. Perhaps he even comprehended without her having to explain the comatose state she spent her life in now. Maybe he knew all about her long forgotten dreams and the bad case of self-loathing she was infected with.
It was hard for Elena to have someone see under every layer she had created, and admittedly it had been like this since they were kids. Even when they were being hateful to each other, the insight was there, making it impossible to really hide. "Damon?" she probed uncertainly, going back to chewing on her bottom lip "Why is it always like this between us?"
"I don't know, Elena. I really don't know." Damon twisted over onto his back again and stared resolutely at the ceiling. Groaning, he pushed himself up, carded his hands through his hair and walked over to the wardrobe. "You going to be okay while I'm at work for a couple of hours this morning?" he asked, distracted as he yanked the hangers around trying to find a shirt.
Elena propped herself up against his mahogany headboard and rested her chin on her knees. "Actually, I was thinking," she hesitated and then rushed froward, scrunching her words together "maybe I could go with you?" It had been niggling at her for a while to see what he was really like in the place he'd been so driven about and had built up from the ground. "I wouldn't be in the way, I promise" she added, smiling shyly and holding her breath, anticipating an immediate refusal. Stefan had always hated her being anywhere near his office.
"Sure" Damon shrugged, attempting to cover a look of surprise and throwing a smirk over his shoulder. "If you're not too hungover to function."
Disregarding the headache that was slowly dimming, she was actually feeling a lot better than she deserved. "I'll live."
"Then go get changed into these." He hurled a scrunched up ball of clean, frayed sweats and a white T-shirt into her lap. "I know what you're like about getting dirty and the auto shop is pretty damn grimy."
Rolling her eyes, Elena had to begrudgingly concede he was correct. She watched as Damon chose his own set of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of the shower water hitting tile following seconds later. Swinging her legs over onto the floor, she shrieked as her bare feet hit the chilled hardwood. "Fuck me" she cursed, springing up onto her tiptoes.
Damon's head peered around the door, his hair wet with remnants of shampoo and his chest shaking with suppressed laughter.
"What?" Elena snapped defensively, crossing her arms tightly and trying not to smile back.
"Just always a shock to hear that filthy mouth on you, no matter how many times I've witnessed it before."
Elena felt behind her and grabbed a pillow, haphazardly tossing it in his direction and missing by a good amount. "Jackass" she emphasized, quietly laughing as he ducked back into the shower. Catching sight of her grin in the mirror, she was staggered that even after the night they'd experienced, Damon had still managed to make the morning bearable. She was even more shocked that she'd willingly suggested spending time together.
The car journey was silent in an easy sort of way, Damon tapping his long fingers along with the hits that crackled from the radio. When they arrived at his workplace and had parked, Damon turned towards her, slipping his Ray-Bans off and tucking them into the front of his shirt. "Go easy on Steve this time? The poor guy is terrified of you."
"Steve?" Elena echoed, looking confused before a flash of recognition crossed over her face. "Oh Steve, the man who works for you that I met when I first arrived?"
"Yeah, him." He lifted his eyebrows "The one that you cut to shreds with your tongue on the forecourt."
Blushing, Elena winced "Oops." Contrite, she offered up a pinky "I swear, best behavior."
Damon smirked and got out of the car, waiting for her to catch up while he put the key in the lock and pushed the office door open with his foot.
"Hey Boss." Steve, who had apparently determined on his own that it was break time already, was reclining in an overstuffed chair with his back to the entrance. Flipping through a copy of Playboy, he held a cup of steaming coffee in his right hand and turned around to greet Damon. He saw Elena, fumbled the magazine behind his back and almost dropped the drink he'd been holding into his lap in the process. "Shi-, I mean damn, didn't know we were expecting visitors."
Elena had to look away to hide her smile. Damon snorted and said "Obviously, going by your reading material."
"I only read it-"
"For the articles" Elena finished the age-old adage, eyes sparkling. She offered out her hand. "Hello Steve, I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot the other week."
Damon watched her curiously as Steve stood up and wiped his oil stained hands on the back of his jeans before accepting her handshake. "It's no problem ma'am."
Already exiting out of the office into the adjoining garage, Damon motioned with his head to Elena "C'mon, there's something I want to show you." He walked out and yelled back at Steve over his shoulder "Now that you know she's not going to eat you alive, you can enjoy the rest of your coffee break."
Elena smiled briefly once more at the harmless employee and then jogged out to reach Damon. Four cars in various states of quality sat side by side with Damon at the vintage cherry-red Porsche at the end of line. He had the hood popped and his head ducked underneath, his toned arms tense as he braced them against the sides of the car.
Damon glanced over and caught Elena trying to covertly eye-ball him. He beamed, all his teeth proudly displayed. "You have a dirty mechanic fantasy I should know about?"
"Not in this lifetime" Elena pledged, her mouth twitching into a smile as she moved forward and put her head beside his to see what he was investigating. "What does this do?" she indicated with her fingernail towards the area Damon had been touching.
"Why don't you open it and find out?"
Conflicted, she studied him for a moment and then bent forward to unscrew the cap. As soon as she did, several, spasmodic squirts of oil covered her chest and neck, staining the clothes she had borrowed. She shrieked and leapt back, glaring at Damon who was now resting his back against the car and watching her gleefully.
"You're a dick" Elena declared, incredulous as she wiped at the mess and only succeeded in making it worse. "You knew that was going to happen."
Chuckling, Damon held out his arm and playfully pulled a reluctant Elena into his side "I just thought you would want to look the part and fit in. I promise it'll all come off in the shower."
"It better" she grumbled, pushing herself away from him. Out of the corner of her eye, Elena unexpectedly noticed her nails, jagged with chipped clear polish. She stared in surprise, holding her hand straight out in front of her.
"What is it?" Damon asked, confused at her change in attitude and focus. "If you're that worried about the oil-"
"I don't care about the oil" she cut him off. Lowering her hand, she smiled awkwardly. "It's stupid really, but I just realized I don't remember the last time I had a manicure."
"Okay? So?"
Elena shrugged, attempting to explain it to make him understand. "Back in Chicago, I had weekly manicure appointments, always the same day, same time. It was such a insignificant thing, but God forbid if someone caught you with a hangnail or the wrong color of varnish." She met his blue eyes. "It just feels nice not to care, or have anyone else care about the state of my hands."
"That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard" Damon countered, sneering. "Why would anyone give a shit about that when there are kids starving in Africa."
"I'm not saying you're wrong. However, ridiculous as it may be, appearance was a pretty important currency."
Taking in her too-large sweats that had been rolled at the waist, the shirt that was slipping off one shoulder and the swipes of black from the oil that were smudged all over her, Damon shrugged and turned away "I've never seen you look more beautiful as you do right now. You should remember that."
Elena balked at the unexpected, tender statement. The bewilderment that anyone would find her attractive while she was currently looking like the mess she did was superseded by Damon's venture into unknown territory. Softly, Elena rebuked "You can't say stuff like that Damon. I-"
"Why? Because of my fucking moron of a brother? He has no idea what he has."
"Please don't bring him into this." Elena sighed, hugging herself, her waifish frame looking even smaller if possible. "We've been having a good time today."
Damon's face darkened for a split second and then he plastered a smirk onto his lips. "You're right, the next few hours will be a Stefan-free zone." He walked over to her, palmed her shoulders and placed a sweet, chaste kiss onto her cheek; the corner of his lips brushing against the corner of her mouth. Before she could protest or even register what had happened, he was back under the hood of the car.
Elena brushed with her fingers at the phantom sensation she could still feel, the place where his caress had been slightly off-center. It was slowly sinking in that it had been the first time they'd kissed that hadn't been fueled by anger or revenge, the first time they'd showed affection outside the boarding house. Taking her cues from Damon, Elena swept the moment aside and went back to standing next to the car he was working on, both acting like it hadn't happened.
Surprisingly, Elena enjoyed the next couple of hours. She sat crossed-legged on the floor while Damon repaired the engine, handing him the tools he needed, laughing at his rolling eyes when, in her ignorance, she would inevitably give him the wrong one.
Apparently, around Damon she cried a little less and laughed a lot more.
And that's how her last week in Mystic Falls continued. They talked ad nauseum about her life, about her marriage with Stefan. Damon was relentless in his questioning. He had a way of looking at her while she spoke that made her believe he really wanted to understand every part of her fucked up existence. Nonetheless, he had a uncanny proclivity to know when she'd had too much and then they would go somewhere and he'd make her forget and laugh till her ribs hurt.
They never verbalized it, but unavoidably each night Elena ended up back in Damon's bed. Not that there was any intimacy involved, they hadn't been like that since he'd found her passed out on the bathroom floor and had learned the whole, ugly truth. No, as darkness fell, they would lay on their detached, respective sides of the bed.
Yet, without fail, every time Elena woke up she would find Damon's hand resting on her hipbone, lighter than air and revoked as soon as he stirred.
"You didn't have to go to this trouble for me, Elena." Alaric reprimanded pleasantly, watching as Elena bent to open the oven door. "I would have been happy with a delivery from The Grill."
"I know I didn't," Elena replied, pulling out a freshly cooked casserole and waving the steam from the glazed terracotta pot. "But I promised you dinner last week and it's my last night here. Besides, I don't usually get the opportunity to cook, so I'd hold that praise in case you get food poisoning."
Alaric followed her into the dining room carrying the breadsticks and salad. "I'm sure it'll be great. It's not like we get a lot of home cooked food around here anyway, so our grading curve is pretty simple."
Damon, who had been sitting at the table waiting for the food, looked up at their entrance and grinned. "About time."
"Always humble aren't you Damon?" Elena smirked, rolling her eye while she busied herself with serving everyone's plates with the ladle.
When they had finally settled, taken their first few bites and Elena was assured her cooking was above par, the conversation started.
Alaric reached across and poured a glass of white wine. "So the house is officially yours now Damon?"
"Got the deeds signed today." Damon replied between mouthfuls. "Everything went through."
Elena glanced down at her meal. Yesterday when Damon had shown her his bank account slips, she couldn't deny anymore this transaction was happening. He'd come up with the money just as he'd promised and suddenly, once again, she was bitterly reminded of the real reason she was in Mystic Falls. It had been nice while it lasted, but she suspected Damon was more than ready to get his life back.
Breaking the news to Stefan went about as well as she could have hoped for. When she finally had to reveal to her husband who the buyer of the house really was, he had raged for a few minutes on the phone before calming when he realized he'd be getting the money either way. The promise of financial gain trumped his urge to humiliate his brother. With the papers signed on both ends, they were pretty much done.
Over the clink of the cutlery, Alaric tried again to get rid of the strangely somber atmosphere. "This really is pretty delicious, Elena. I'm surprised Stefan doesn't have you doing this every night."
"They have their own cook who does everything for them." Damon answered for her, sounding vaguely sour. "Elena doesn't have to lift a finger. She never has to reach her full potential. Ever."
Ignoring Damon, Elena smiled sweetly at Alaric who was shooting Damon a confused glance. "Thank you, Ric. It's the least I could do for you and Damon after he let me stay here and you drove me to the airport."
Damon violently twisted his salt shaker over his food and grumbled. Also ignoring him, Alaric responded to Elena. "So did you enjoy your time here? Did you get all nostalgic to move back?"
"Oh no, It was nice but I don't think I'll be moving anytime soon." Elena chanced a look at Damon out of the corner of her eye. "It's been... cathartic."
Noticing Alaric's gaze darting between her and Damon, she coughed and started to collect the empty plates. Telling the two men to stay seated while she grabbed dessert, she ran out to the kitchen hoping Alaric had been distracted enough not to pick up on anything occurring between her and Damon.
With what was quickly becoming tradition whenever Alaric and Damon were together, Elena caught her name being spoken in soft tones and she stood next to the door frame on the other side of the wall to them, panicking that Damon had been telling all of her secrets.
"You know this isn't real, right?" Alaric prompted. "The whole Betty Crocker fantasy. Coming home to Elena at night. It's all temporary, she's someone else's wife, Damon. She's going back home tomorrow."
"Thank you Ric for clearing that up, I wasn't aware before." Damon hissed back, taking a pause as if listening to see if Elena was returning. "I know the score."
Ric coughed, and Elena could hear the table creak as he leant over to get closer to Damon. "There's something going on between you two, isn't there?"
"Yeah, there is. She's selling a house to me. How did you manage to crack that one?"
"Don't fucking play that game with me, Damon." Alaric whispered harshly. "You know exactly what I mean. You can't keep your eyes off her."
Damon briefly pondered over Alaric's inquiry. "You have no idea what's going on, Ric. And that's as much as I'm willing to say about it."
Elena let out a silent breath of relief. If she didn't think she could trust Damon before, she did now. He had somehow managed to get Alaric off his case without putting Elena in the firing line or disparaging her marriage to Stefan. To think that she'd been expecting him to use their affair as some sort of bragging rights seemed ridiculous now.
Alaric tightly questioned "Do I need to be worried about you?"
When Damon's answer never came, Elena backed away and loudly slammed the kitchen door. Spreading a smile onto her face, she balanced the trifle on her upturned hands and walked into the dining room, pretending she was none the wiser.
They managed to get through dessert without any further mishaps or comments and when Elena and Damon walked Alaric to the front door, Elena was surprised at the acute sense of sadness she felt at the realization she'd probably never see Damon's best friend again.
They hesitated at the open door, trying to draw out the evening.
"I saw Bonnie the other day." Alaric recalled, balancing on the doorstep and swinging his car keys around his finger. "She said you guys had talked about her flying out to visit you sometime."
Elena remembered calling Bonnie a few days ago, making sure she at least had the decency to give her a real goodbye this time. Bonnie had suggested them meeting in Chicago in a few months. Elena couldn't remember the noncommittal answer she'd given, but it was nice to think that it could be a possibility to look forward to. In reality, she knew it'd never happen, but it was pleasant to have the indefinite option all the same.
"It's a possibility." Elena replied, giving a small smile.
"Well I for one hope you and Stefan," Alaric emphasized, eyeing Damon "come back sometime. We're sorry to see you go."
Elena laughed and leant forward to give him a loose hug, already knowing the chances of her ever returning where slim to none. "I'll see what we can do. I can assure you though, you're better off without us."
Sensing Damon and Alaric wanted to have a final conversation without her, Elena said her goodbyes once more and trailed upstairs, forgoing the eavesdropping this time.
Already in bed with the lights off when Damon eventually slipped under the sheets, Elena moved to face away from him.
"Elena" he whispered, softly touching her shoulder. "You awake?"
Weighing up the pros and cons of what he could possibly want to discuss, she took in a deep breath and turned back over to look at him. "Yeah, what's up?"
"You're going back to Stefan tomorrow." He stated. "To a life that makes you miserable."
Elena suddenly could tell where this was going to go. Damon being inherently a good person was feeling guilty and responsible about her returning to her sucky life. This was the last thing she wanted. The burden wasn't his. "Yes I am. And it's fine, Damon. We all knew that was how it was going to end. I wasn't expecting anything else."
Whispering in the dark, Damon replied "Something has to change for you."
"I'm not as miserable as you think I am, Damon. I know how to handle myself out there. The money from the boarding house will help and I'll never be able to thank you enough for that."
The answering lull was a testament to how Damon didn't agree in any respect with her statements.
"I'm sorry you got caught up in all this." Elena apologized towards the direction where she could just about see the flash of his eyes and teeth.
"Stop feeling guilty, Elena. You did what you had to do." Damon soothed.
But she did feel guilty. For everything she did, for who she was.
"If you really want to make all this worth it, promise me you'll use the money to help yourself and not Stefan. Promise me you'll use it to get out of the hole you've dug yourself into."
Elena sighed "Helping Stefan is helping me, Damon."
"You're so fucking stubborn." Damon paused "Then at least swear you'll call me if it starts to get worse or if you need someone."
"Maybe" Elena replied softly, having no intention whatsoever to drag Damon back into her problems ever again.
Going by Damon's harsh silence and him abruptly twisting away from her, Elena could tell they both knew she had meant 'no' instead of 'maybe'. Feeling a unexpected streak of fear tighten her chest, she knew she needed to do something drastic.
She reached over and switched the overhead lamp on, watching as Damon's eyes blinked against the light. Before he could get a word out she moved over to his side of the bed and kissed him, long and hard and desperate.
"Elena …" Damon said uncertainly, leaning back to look at her "I-"
"I just had to-"
Damon interrupted her by crushing his lips to hers, matching her kiss in its desolation. He moved so he could suspend himself over her, pulling the sheets back up around them and stroked a finger down her cheek. "One last time, Elena. Let me give you one last time."
Nodding, Elena felt like she'd die if they didn't chase that freedom once more before she had to go. One last chance to feel alive. Without looking away from Damon's all consuming stare, she slipped her wedding ring off and placed it on the table next to her. She expected it to be the first and last time she'd ever remove the significant piece of jewelry.
He hesitated, before reaching down and pulling her shirt over her head, barely blinking when he found her wearing no bra. Next, he pulled her sleep shorts down her legs as she watched him, completely letting him control how this was going to go. Making sure he wasn't leaning on her long hair, he swept it away from her shoulders and brought his chest to hers, kissing her hungrily again.
Breaking away from Elena for a second, he leant back and removed his shirt and boxers, throwing them onto the floor and then rapidly returning to cover her.
Elena kept silent as he moved down her neck, to her shoulders, then to her chest, dropping light kisses as he went, lingering over her where he could feel her heart beating. She was terrified of saying something and popping the bubble they had wrapped themselves in. Her eyes closed as he took the time to swirl each nipple into his mouth, only moving beyond them when they became rigid.
Bumping her hips up to his in her necessity, Damon got the hint and hooked his thumbs under her panties, slowly trailing them down her legs so she could feel every sensation of fabric against her skin. She could already tell he wasn't going to let this be quick or dirty like before. Hell, it was going to be the first time they'd done this in a bed.
"Let me in, Elena" he rasped into the stretch of neck that his mouth was nestled against. She spread her legs and he cupped her, sliding his fingers between her drenched labia. She shook as he worked one finger in and then another, biting her lip as they penetrated her. He crooked a finger against her wet walls and he had to hold down her hips and she jerked in response.
"I can't hold on" Elena moaned, feeling the slow burn and clench in her stomach. "Stop, I want you inside me when I come." Fisting her hand into his hair she maneuvered his mouth against hers, and waited for him to remove his fingers. Opening her thighs to cradle him, she crossed her ankles behind him, arching her back as he rubbed his cock against her.
Damon's eyes bore into hers as he held her just on the knife's edge of bliss "Say you want me, Elena. Say it's me who you're thinking of."
She could have combusted from the sheer need to have him buried inside her. His raw yearning making her feel over exposed, she glanced to the side trying to push down the tidal wave of emotion.
"Don't," Damon whispered, cupping her cheek and guiding her face to look back at him. "Don't disappear. Be with me right now."
As soon as she nodded her consent, he surged into her, generating a low keen from the back of her throat. Never breaking from his gaze, their intimacy and lack of any space between them burnt and singed all the way up her spine. "Damon, I-" she mewled.
"You're okay." Damon promised breathlessly, dropping his head to her shoulder, thrusting and filling her so perfectly she couldn't imagine being empty ever again. "We're okay."
He braced himself on his forearms as he continued to roll and work himself into her wet heat, withdrawing and then plunging back to the hilt. Every time Elena got the rhythm down he would change his angle and the coil in her belly would start again. He was obviously dragging it out until they were both worn down to their last resolve, until they milked all they could out of each other.
"God, Damon" Elena swore violently, no longer able to keep quiet. She could feel herself contracting tighter around him. "I'm right there."
Achingly close to his own release, Damon let any curbing of his control go and pushed and ground into her recklessly, intertwining his fingers with hers. Just as his pelvic bone rubbed against her clit, she cried out and climaxed, digging each of her fingernails into his palms.
"Elena" Damon bit out hoarsely, his toes digging into the mattress. Despite the indescribable feeling of her walls pulsing around him, it was the gentle, feather light kiss she touched under his jaw that made him lose it, spilling into her and falling exhausted against her chest. They waited until their breathing had leveled before moving again.
Trying to ignore the great feeling of loss as he slipped out of her and reached above them to turn off the light, Elena rolled to her side, pushing her face into the pillow and pretending there was no moisture in her eyes. She was shocked when rather than pull away from her and restore their usual space, Damon entwined an arm around her waist and nestled her back against his chest.
"That should have been our first time." he whispered into the shell of her ear.
Contemplating that she should probably move out from under his embrace, she instead tried to memorize how good it felt to just be held. Storing and bottling the memory for the future. She would give herself this last night before she went back to being Elena Salvatore. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was Damon's grip and the way his body fit perfectly against hers.
The sun hadn't even risen when she woke again. It was still a watered down black and grey outside as she carefully extracted herself from a deeply sleeping Damon. Quickly getting dressed, she forced her wedding ring back onto her finger and put her already packed luggage by the door.
Glancing behind her to make sure he was still asleep, Elena grabbed a pen and piece of paper and sat on the floor to write her last goodbye to Damon Salvatore.
Damon, You know I've never been good with goodbyes which is why I've left you with this letter. I'm sure you're grateful to skip that whole scene, too. I feel like there have been so many things left unsaid between us, but when I want to write them down I can't think of a single one. Isn't that always the way?
I guess all I can do is thank you. Thank you for reminding me what it's like to feel human again, thank you for caring, and thank you for putting up with me. You've helped me more than you'll ever know.
Whatever is left of the money from the sale of the house after Stefan has used it, I will send back to you for Violetta. I promise that I will do everything in my power to help you with that.
I'm sure this letter is starting to get way too melodramatic for your taste so I'll wrap it up.
Damon- I genuinely hope you'll have the best life you can. You deserve it. I'd say we'd come see you sometime, but you'd know it was a lie.
All that's left to say is goodbye.
Elena x
Never happier that Damon was a heavy sleeper, Elena left the folded letter on his bedside table and turned to leave. Leaning down at the last second to kiss his exposed shoulder, she felt the familiar paralysis wind its way around her body, its grip only growing stronger as she left Mystic Falls behind and boarded the flight back to Chicago.
A/N- First of all, I really have to give a BIG thank to my new beta Sandra (dutchtreat). Truly amazing that she took the time out of her life to help with this story. Secondly, another huge thank you to all that read IAMB, that any of you read this means so much. And by the way, how shocking was that last TVD episode? Eeesh.
