I'm baaack! There are two more chapters after this, and then this story is finished :( I should have everything posted within the next week.
This is definitely one of my favorite things that I've written for this story. I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: TVD is not mine.
"What does love mean to you, Damon?" she asks. She's sitting curled up against him, and he's playing with her hair, occasionally planting kisses on the top of her head. It's the simple intimacy of the moment that prompts her question.
She twists around to look him in the eye, trying to gauge his reaction to her question. He opens his mouth to respond and then pauses.
"Can I hear your definition, first?"
She pauses, suddenly rethinking the answer she had used for years. Defining love isn't as easy as it used to be. It wasn't so long ago that love equaled a shining prince on a white horse; someone who would sweep her off her feet and carry her off into the sunset; someone who would love and adore her, always making grand romantic gestures.
Maybe the fairy tales she so loved as a child taught her that-gave her this sweeping, unrealistic view of love. Maybe it was something she had learned from Stefan, when he came along and she tried so hard to make him her knight and he tried so hard to be her knight.
That was what she was prepared to answer with-some trite and cliché answer about fairy tale love. But that's not right-that's just what love used to mean. And love has long since stopped meaning anything it used to.
It's all his fault. Damon's.
He came into her life, made it impossible to hate him, confused her to no end, saved her on numerous occasions, was prepared to sacrifice everything for her and (basically) ask for nothing in return. He even tried to get Stefan back for her, when he could have been trying to keep Stefan away.
And suddenly she knows. Love is black leather jackets and bourbon. Love is…
"Love is doing anything, absolutely anything to keep the person you love safe. Even if it means hurting and alienating them in the process," She replies softly. "It's the willingness to do anything, to sacrifice everything, for the one you love." she pauses. "Including letting her be with your brother if it meant she was happy."
There's a long pause while he stares at her, eyes full of love and adoration. She blushes and kisses him lightly. "Your turn."
He sighs, stroking her hair thoughtfully as he thinks about her question.
Defining love isn't as easy as it used to be. As a human he didn't think about it much-with Giuseppe Salvatore as your father you married for social status, not love. As a vampire, it wasn't so long ago that love equaled lust, which equaled sex or blood. Or sex and blood. "Love" was just a word, a synonym for "instant gratification," with no feelings attached to it.
Maybe Katherine taught him that-her "love" was certainly completely screwed up and manipulative, interested only in her own satisfaction. Maybe he learned it on his own as he fed and compelled his way through a century and a half's worth of women.
Stopping to think about it, though, he knows that isn't it anymore. That hasn't been it for a long time. It is certainly what love used to mean, but "love" has long since stopped meaning anything it used to.
It's all her fault. Elena's.
She makes him feel. Beyond that, she makes him want to feel, not just for her, but for others. She makes him want to be the better man. She makes him want to sacrifice anything and everything to protect her. She is sweet and kind and compassionate and wonderful, and she makes him feel things he thought he was no longer capable of. She makes him feel human.
Then he knows.
"Love is you."
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