This is what we've been waiting for. Well, the wait is over...
Chapter 20
The taste was different as was the feel of the lips beneath his.
He tasted of bourbon and smoke—an aftertaste of regret Damon had never cared for.
Or maybe, he was just addicted to the sweetness of Elena's lips.
Alaric was in turns sweet and frantic in his touch, tender and animalistic in his hold. Damon could feel his desperation.
Did Alaric feel his indifference?
Attraction was simple, was it not? You could get attracted to the man you didn't know, the man you once shared a lift with, the man you caught a glance from afar, the man whom you admired for his confidence, the man who was equally ignorant about you as you were about him.
Attraction was all about touch, smell, taste and feel.
Attraction was easy to incite and forget.
As Damon pushed Alaric in the wall, his teeth sank in Alaric bottom lip, tugging viciously; he left a mark he didn't care for.
What was Elena doing? He had not wanted to leave her alone, but it was Stefan's birthday party and Elijah would be attending it despite Katherine's presence. She needed all the time she could manage with Elijah for her love story to progress.
'Damon,' Alaric panted.
Damon covered his mouth with his lips. He didn't care for words Alaric was about to say. Intimacy often made you incoherent with the need to profess any and everything to your partner. Damon was not in the mood to lend Alaric an ear.
Alaric was hard. Damon's hand slipped inside his pants, his thoughts still centered on Elena.
Was she dancing with Elijah?
Or had Elijah dragged her to a dark alcove like he had dragged Alaric?
Were they kissing?
'Damon!'
Damon loosened his hold on Alaric's cock, aware that he'd squeezed a little too hard.
He looked at Alaric, aware that he could fuck this man tonight and it would not mean a damn thing despite the fact that he liked Alaric.
'I'm sorry, Alaric. I have to go,' he said after a moment.
'Back to her I presume?'
'Yes.'
'Why?'
It made Damon stare at the man he could fool himself into liking. Alaric stared at him mulishly, his mouth set in a frown, his eyes determined.
'I love her, that's why,' Damon answered simply, ready to turn and walk away.
'Then what were you doing with me? Am I supposed to be your secret, Damon?'
Damon laughed at the insinuation. 'Secret implies I want to continue this Alaric. I don't.'
'Was I some sort of sexual experiment then?' Alaric snapped.
'Yes and no.'
'Were you bored with your sex life with Elena that you wanted a bit of spice? She knows about it, doesn't she? After all, she was the one who called and told me that you'd be at the gallery. Pretty open relationship you two have, don't you?' Alaric remarked snidely.
Damon wanted to laugh at the immaturity in front of him. Alaric sounded like a spoiled brat, a side effect of probably getting whatever you wanted in life.
'You and me here, Alaric, was only to confirm something.' Damon took a step in Alaric's direction, his eyes predatory. Alaric stepped back.
'I can fuck you if you want. God knows you're attractive enough and after few drinks I'll be attracted enough. But all the while I'm having sex with you, I'd be thinking of her. Did she get home safely? Is she asleep? What is she dreaming about? Did she miss me? Did she have the glass of warm milk that she often forgets before bed?'
'I kissed you because you wanted me to,' Damon whispered as he caged Alaric's body between the wall and his body, tilting his head to run his nose at the side of Alaric's throat.
'Every time you looked at me, I could see the desperation in your eyes. I found it refreshing after so many late night hook-ups where I let men do whatever they wanted to me because I wanted my father to be humiliated because of me. Your desire was new and something I'd not paused to think about for such a long time.'
'I…I didn't—'
'I'm not gay, Alaric,' Damon stated kindly. 'If I wanted to make you fall for me, I could've played the card of a man scared of his sexuality and afraid to come to grips with it. I know what I am. I've always known. I just made choices that took me too far from one person who would've accepted me just as I am—flawed and fucked up. But then that's past for you. It influences you in ways that you sometimes regret when you get older.'
He pressed a kiss on Alaric's lips. 'I know I might lose her, but I can't let her go. Not just yet. She might not need me in future but right now, she does. And I'm gonna stay by her side till the day she herself tells me to go away.'
'I don't know what to say,' Alaric admitted.
Damon moved away from the man, ready to depart.
'Had…had it not been for her, could we have had something together?' Alaric asked timidly.
'Maybe. Maybe not. You are rather immature at times, you know, and it is exhausting,' Damon replied in humor and walked away, leaving Alaric standing in a darkened corner of his father's manse…
Elena didn't know where Damon had run off to.
He'd not been in the party, or on the first floor.
Now, she was climbing the stairs to the second floor which housed Giuseppe's study and Stefan's private wing. The immaculate walls interspersed by the carefully curated paintings were a testament of how much money Giuseppe could throw to hide his chauvinistic classlessness.
He'd erased Damon's existence from this house, not that she minded.
After all, Damon didn't belong here.
'…still the same, boy,' she heard Giuseppe hiss.
She hurried in the direction of the voice.
Giuseppe was standing in the front of an ostentatious portrait of himself, his face contorted in hate and disgust as he stared Damon down.
Damon looked distracted and bored, as if he'd heard all of it before.
'So, the Gilbert girl is just a cover? I should've known. How could I think that a degenerate like you would change? Still like taking it up your ass, boy?'
Elena saw red at that comment. She affixed a smile on her face before making her presence known.
'There you are, love. I've been searching all over for you,' she said as she came to stand beside Damon, and slipped her hand in his.
'I…I was coming to find you,' he replied slowly, eyes rapt at her face, mesmerized.
'Had you told me you would be having a chat with your father, I wouldn't have worried so much.'
She tore her glance away from his beautiful face and concentrated on Giuseppe who was sneering at her.
At them.
She wanted to punch the bastard. She barely restrained herself.
'Now that I've found you here, Giuseppe, I wanted to talk about something,' she said sweetly.
'And what would that be?'
'Next time you dare address my Damon in such derogatory fashion, I will forget you're his father.'
'And what will you do?' Giuseppe asked in a mocking tone.
'Oh, I will simply hand over the photos I have of you and your lovely wife engaging in a very questionable sexual act with one Matthew Donovan to all the newspapers around the town. I'll even bother myself with sending some to national television networks. You can only imagine what that will do to the stocks and shares of your company.'
'You—'
'And then, when the shares of Salvatore would flood the market, I'll buy all of it and gift it to Damon. I can bankrupt you with a single call. This house that you're very proud of, the noxious masculinity that you preach, that snake of a woman you keep arranged on your arm—I can take it all away.'
'All this anger because I pointed out few key truths to your "boyfriend"?' Giuseppe ridiculed. 'Did you know what your Damon was doing? He was trying to fuck Saltzman in a nook just few steps from my study.'
'So?' she countered instantly. 'We have a pretty open relationship. I don't mind his sexual experimentation. He owns what he does, Giuseppe. My Damon doesn't need to hide who he is with me. He doesn't beg his wife to put a strap on and fuck him in the arse. He doesn't frequent a club where he prefers to wear a collar and crawl after whoever tugs the leash. He doesn't beg Matt Donovan to let him clean some strangers arse with his tongue after Matt is done fucking.'
'You frigid cunt,' Giuseppe roared. His hand moved to strike her hard across her face, but it never reached her.
Damon held his father's wrist in a vise-like grip. 'Don't ever utter that word for her,' he growled. 'Don't you ever dare to talk to her that way, Giuseppe.'
'Why? Do you love her, boy? This girl who's insulting your father in front of you? This beard who has been keeping your secret?'
'Yes, I do. And if I ever hear her name pass your lips, I'll rip out your tongue,' Damon imparted calmly. 'Say what you will about me, but leave her out of it.'
'Virgin bitch,' he leered at Elena. 'Has anyone fucked you, little girl? I can if you say "please".'
His vision tunneled. There was a ringing in his ears and he could hear nothing but Giuseppe's words in his head. It brought back memories of a time when he'd hurt Elena, when he'd made her bleed. His fists rose automatically, meeting Giuseppe's nose with a sharp crunch. 'You bastard! What the fuck did you say?'
His fists continued punching, his mind blank except for the rage he felt.
How could Giuseppe say something like that, something so vile to his Elena?
'Damon, it's okay,' a voice whispered in his ears and a pair of arms snaked around his chest, restraining him from causing any further harm.
'No, Elena, I'm gonna—'
'It's enough, love,' she murmured. 'You've done enough.'
Damon stared at his father. Giuseppe's face was bloody. Damon's knuckles were raw.
'I-I—'
'I love you, you know that, right?' she said.
He could do nothing but nod and stare at her.
She looked otherworldly tonight.
Clad in a column of black, diamonds glittered at her lobe and winked at her throat. Her red lips were plush and he wanted nothing more than to kiss the color away. Her almost bare face was radiant.
He'd not even danced with her once in the masquerade that had been organized in the honor of his baby brother's birthday.
She turned in his father's direction and dropped a tissue she'd fished out of her impossibly flat clutch near him.
'Wipe off your face, Giuseppe,' she advised. 'And just for the record, Damon is a sex god. I wonder where he gets it from. Not from you, I'm sure.'
She turned away from his father, holding out her hand. A smile was on her lips and his heart—it was ready to burst out of his chest.
He let her tug him out of the corridor, following her in a wondrous rapture.
She was the one.
His Elena—she would always be the one.
She leaned against an elaborately carved column and pulled him to her.
'Marry me,' he said tenderly.
'Marry me,' she said shyly.
They had spoken at the same time.
'Don't you love Elijah?' he asked.
'Don't you fancy, Alaric?' she questioned.
'Will I be enough?' he queried uncertainly.
'Could I make you happy if I tried?'
They looked at each other. Damon and Elena who'd loved each other since perhaps the very first day.
'You're more than enough,' she said as a tear slipped out of the corner of her eye.
'I'd be the happiest man in the world if you married me,' he whispered, words choked.
She clung to him fiercely. His hold was equally tight.
A sob broke free from her throat.
'I love you. I love you. I love you,' he repeated as tears wet his cheeks, and he kissed the top of her head.
She sobbed, her face hidden in his chest.
'I'm sorry it took me so long, love. I'm so sorry.'
Despite his avowals of love, her tears didn't stop.
'Elena, look at me, love,' he cajoled. 'Look at me, Elena.'
She raised her head, drops of moisture clinging to her spiked lashes. His fingers wiped away the tears from her cheeks.
'I love you. I've always loved you. I will always love you.'
'I know,' she said in a small voice.
'Then why are you crying?' he asked, bewildered.
'I'm happy and relieved, you idiot,' she huffed, punching him in the chest.
'Elena, I—'
'I know,' she said.
'When did you know? How long have you known?'
'Does it matter?'
'No, it doesn't,' he replied. 'So, you're really gonna marry me?'
'You bet!'
'And make love to me?' he sibilated.
'Every damn night,' she answered, the blush staining her cheeks a soft pink.
'And have kids with me?' he asked in an aching whisper.
'I'm thinking about one to start with, but we will have three.'
He pushed her against the column at her back and leaned over her, staring. There was only wonder in her eyes and love. Her lips were curved in a smile and her scent tantalized him. He leaned closer and she raised her head.
It was supposed to be a brief touch of his lips on hers, but the moment her hand touched the side of his neck and his lips her mouth, something broke free inside them.
She wound her arms behind his neck; he hoisted her legs around his waist. His mouth devoured her taste, her tongue played with his.
It was by no means perfect. They bumped their noses and she bit his tongue, he pushed her a bit too hard against the surface, his teeth biting her skin.
Her nails left scratches that would heal, his palm bruises that would fade. They drank from one another till they couldn't take one more breath. Short on breath they broke apart, faces flushed, grinning like teenagers who'd made past the first base.
'I didn't even get to dance with you.' She pouted. 'You look dapper in a tux.'
'You look sensational in that dress. Do you really wanna dance?'
'Yes. I like dancing with you,' she said.
'I like dancing with you too. So, let's dance.'
'Here?' She frowned.
'What's wrong with here?'
'I wanna dance downstairs,' she demanded.
'Want to show me off?' he jested.
'Yep,' she answered candidly. 'So, put me down.'
'Can't I carry you downstairs?'
'You can carry me over the threshold…'
You're the right time at the right moment,
You're the sunlight that keeps my heart going…
She swayed in his embrace. It was perfect.
People barely noticed them in a sea of couples dancing together. Even when they did, it was nothing new. Elena Gilbert had always been in the arms of Damon Salvatore.
'Let's get out of here,' she whispered to him.
'You wanted to dance!'
She gave him a veiled glance, peering at him from beneath her lashes.
'God!' He took a deep breath and twirled her. When she came back into his arms, he held her still amid people in motion.
He looked into her eyes and smirked. 'Let's get out of here, Elena…'
The words of the song are from Henry Lau's "It's you". Just one more chapter left. To all the people who've left me sweetest of words, thank you. You don't know how much it means to me. I just didn't want Damon and Elena to be buried, broken dreams. I hope I gave them an ending they deserved. Just one more day, one more chapter. I feel weepy all of the sudden. Must be dust...