"Elena, I wanted to apologize for those things I said earlier-"

"No," Elena interrupted, "I'm the one who should be sorry. Your friend had just died, and I didn't make the situation any easier on you. So Damon, I'm sorry." She wrapped her arms around her torso protectively and dropped her gaze to the floor. If this was out of embarrassment or guilt, she wasn't sure. She did know, however, that she owed Damon an apology; for everything. For her recurring bitchiness; her mind games she had played with him; for her constant pressure on him to become something that he wasn't; she owed Damon an apology for murdering his friend; she owed an apology for the guilt she had for his brother's death. Even though Damon owed a few pleads of forgiveness himself and had said a few harsh words, she too had spat out noxious remarks. There was no way Elena could escape that reality; it loomed over her agonizingly. She desperately wanted to keep her anger towards Damon, and not give into his alluring blue eyes, or the way he made her heart flutter, and especially not give up her opinion and beliefs just to get him back. But alas, love has a funny way of making people go against what is so obviously right. Love makes people do what the heart wants; not what the brain does. And Elena's heart pointed straight towards Damon Salvatore.

"Elena," Damon whispered guiltily, "You were going through the same situation, and I was being a jerk about it."

"Yes, you were a jerk," Elena admitted, but quickly added, "but I wasn't too kind either. I think we can both agree we were a bit out of line." Elena finished her statement with a small smile. Her damn heart and love had won the battle of where she stood on this matter. She figured there was no use in hating the one person she truly loved. All that would achieve would be making her life a living hell, and make Damon's no better than living without color.

"That's true," Damon said distantly, "but, don't you think we should talk about the things we said? I mean there must be some logic to why we said them." Damon leaned against the wall, bracing himself for her reply. He needed to know. Was there some truth behind what she had said about him; some dormant view of him that could be parallel to how she had felt about him when they first met? It was a taunting question, and could only be answered truly by Elena. As he looked into her chocolate eyes, though, they didn't convey the look of truthfulness. They possessed a vibe of 'I'll say whatever it takes to make this situation go away'. This was not the look Damon wanted; not by a long shot. If he and Elena were going to talk about all of this, they needed to truly talk; not have the illusion of problem solving.

"You know the saying 'some things are better left unsaid'? I think this is one of those things. We were both so flustered by Rose's death that we couldn't think straight. Even if there had been some truth or logic in our words, it doesn't matter. " Elena hated keeping things from people; especially people so dear to her such as Damon. She desperately wanted to tell him how what she had said did matter; it mattered a hell of a lot more than the hopeless conversation they were in now, that didn't even begin to graze the surface of their complex issues. Down in the cellar, she had spoken her mind. She didn't fully trust Damon; how could she? A year or so of genuineness does not make up for virtually a life of lies and jest. He had played girls the way some might take a breath; every second he had a new conquer hanging from his arm. It wasn't that Elena was bitter or jealous about that; Damon was now hers. What did eat at her though was the too real reality that Damon's lifestyle couldn't simply be gone in the blink of an eye. Old habits die hard; and Elena was sure how far his habit of being a player had decomposed.

"Well, Elena," Damon said numbly, "it might not matter to you; but to me, it does. What happened that morning isn't something that can just be let go." A shadow of the usually passionate fire that Damon possessed flew across his face, but disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

"You're depressed Damon," She pointed out to him with the small intent of steering away from the topic of that dreadful morning, "and rightfully so. You just lost your brother; that's not an easy thing." Elena gazed at Damon with empathetic eyes. She knew too well the pain of losing someone that was close to the heart. She could hardly fathom, though, how Damon must feel. Stefan had been in his life for one hundred and forty five plus years, and in the blink of an eye, he had vanished. As she looked at Damon, something in her heart snapped. His eyes were raw; his body numb; the gleaming vibe of blitheness was nowhere to be found. Damon was completely broken. To the untrained eye, he would've seemed fine. A little dull maybe, possibly tired, but they would never have guessed broken. In the time that Elena had known Damon, she became very fluent in the language of Damon Salvatore, and he most certainly was crushed. As crushed as a man could possibly be. No glimmer of hope sparkled in his eye, no ghost of a smile was apparent on his lips, and no fire was burning in his heart. Damon was a cold, numb, and shattered man.

"Not an easy thing," Damon echoed almost bitterly. He looked to the ground and began to rub his hands together rapidly. The mere reminder that his brother was dead was enough to send Damon off the edge. Sure there were times when he had disliked Stefan; even hated him. But no matter which way he tried to justify his loathing, Stefan was still Damon's flesh and blood; and therefore one half of him. His mind was in a state of utter shock. No logical thoughts could be made, and no reply to Elena could be formulated. All that there was, was a jumbled mess of cobwebs that seemed to be poisoned with the deadliest of venoms. It trickled into the bloodstream making it go cold; it dripped into his stomach causing the most horrid of stomach pains. Stefan was gone. Damon was the only Salvatore left. Although he was surrounded with friends- Scotty, Caroline; and enveloped by his love- Elena, he still felt more alone than ever. Damon had no one who knew him inside and out now, other than himself. He no longer had any constant person in his life; a person who when times were the worst, gave the support of a better tomorrow. Everything Damon had known; everything he had been before he turned, seemed to die with Stefan.

"Of course it's not an easy thing Elena," Damon finally said hoarsely, "but you know that already. It's tougher than that though, Elena; it's something you wouldn't understand." His ideas were a jumbled mess, numbly blubbering themselves out into the world for anyone to hear. Damon had experienced death before. It wasn't any new sensation or discovery. For many years, death was a familiar friend. But now, in this moment, death wasn't just a ghost tagging along for the ride, which Damon had forgotten was there. No, this was something else entirely. Death, more specifically Stefan's, seemed to be the end. Unlike before, death stood for more than just its obvious connotation. In this case, death stood for change; forced change. Life for Damon, and to an extent Elena and the rest of Mystic Falls, would be changed forever. Personalities would be altered; morals of the people would shift. Until this moment, Damon had never fully grasped the concept of the ripple effect death has.

"I know I have no way of understanding, so explain it to me. I want to be able to help, and I can't do that if you won't open up to me." Elena took a step towards Damon so they were only a few inches apart, and placed a soft hand on his shoulder. It felt right for her to be in this position. For her to touch him, gaze at him, helping him; love him. After all of her blind searching, Elena had finally found the missing piece to her puzzle. No longer did she care about what wicked things Damon had said or done to her. All that mattered, and all that ever would, was them being together.

"Look," Damon replied slowly, "it's not that I don't want or appreciate your help. The wounds are just too new to be able to talk about it just yet. It all happened so fast, I don't even know what I feel about it quite yet. Someday, we will talk about all of this. That could be tomorrow, that could be five years from now. It'll happen at some point or another, but not today. Today is reserved for us solving our problems." He brought his hand up and wrapped it around hers, which was still lying gently on his shoulder. A small smile found its way onto Damon's face, and his eyes brightened the slightest bit.

"And that's okay with me. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Just know that I'm here for you; always. I know that sounds totally cheesy, but it's the truth. As for our problems, in all honesty they don't matter. We technically don't even have a problem. We went through a rough patch; big whoop. We'll get over it. Well, I've already forgave and forgotten. I don't know about you, but too much has happened now, for a few mean words to hurt us." Elena smiled at Damon. It was as simple as she had put it: life happens, and all people can do is go with it.

"You're right. Too much has happened for it to ruin us. But just like with- with Stefan, we'll talk about it at some point. But for right now, we're finally at peace. So, Elena, what now?" Damon raised a dark eyebrow at her, and anticipated her reply.

A mischievous smile pranced onto Elena's lips, and she leaned in closer to Damon and whispered: "Can I keep you?" Her breath tickled its way down Damon's neck, and he could hear her taunting pulse in his ears. The sensation was one of total ecstasy.

He chuckled deeply, causing Elena to feel a vibration on her chest, and Damon whispered back: "Forever." With that, he pulled Elena in closer to him, and encircled his arms around her tiny waist. He tilted his head, causing his dark locks to fall in his eyes slightly. Damon's blue eyes were electrified by the shadow of his raven hair, and Elena felt as if she was melting into utter bliss. A tiny smirk appeared on Damon's face, and he leaned down and kissed her. It was more than a kiss. It was a quiet promise- a promise of faithfulness; a promise of eternal love. A silent promise of forever.

~Okay, so that is chapter 21! The last chapter of Unholiest of Tortures. I really hope that you guys have enjoyed the story. I know it had its rough parts, but this is my first completed multi-chapter stories, so please be kind. Haha. And I know that this chapter was extremely short, but I thought that this would be a good place to end it, and I didn't want to drag it on longer than it needed to be. The question now for you readers is: SHOULD THERE BE A SEQUEL? I'd be overjoyed to write one (and make it ten times better than UOT) but the decision lies in your hands. Let me know in a review! Again, I hope you guys have enjoyed this story as much as I have loved writing it! I also have a new story out called "Caught In a Fading Daydream". It's a multi-chapter story, and I'd love it if you'd check that out too! (:

Remember, reviews are love, people! ;)