Damon went to take a shower and Elena stayed on the bed. It was comfortable, with black sheets and blankets. She'd never been in here before now.
She got up and started to look around. His closet was full of black, with the occasional white and gray. He had a few books, mostly classics. She picked up the journal, and began to flip through it. Then the picture fell out.
It was black and white, like Stefan's, but it was just the same otherwise. Long dark, curly hair, dark colored eyes, just like Elena. She felt the hate and hurt build up in her. Why could neither of them get over her?
"Elena, it's not what you think." Damon whispered behind her.
"Then what is it, Damon?" Elena whispered.
"I couldn't...I tried...I can't throw it away." He sighed.
"Then this, us, won't work." She whispered, putting it down
"No, please, Elena!" Damon said, grabbing her arm.
"I only kept it, because you didn't love me. No one did. And with her, even if it was fake, I felt it." He whispered. "I'll do it. I'll throw it away today, I swear."
Elena sighed. "Are you over her?" When Damon didn't answer she continued. "When I'm with you do you only see her?"
"No. I see you. I love you." He vowed, turning her to face him and kissing her.
"Then do it. Throw it away now. I had this problem with Stefan, Damon, and won't have it with you."
Damon picked it up and ran downstairs to the fireplace. I looked at the picture a last time, whispered "Good bye, my love." Then threw it in the fire and watched it burn.