Whenever she woke, whatever day it was, when she reached over the other side of the bed, it was empty. She sat up and found Damon standing by the window, with the last remaining sunlight rays streaming over him.

"Sleep well?"

Celeste stretched her weary bones. "Klaus is dead, right?" Celeste asked. "I didn't... imagine that, tell me I didn't imagine or dream that."

"You didn't." Damon turned his head just a fraction of an inch. "He's gone."

Ding, Dong, De Original mortuus est, she thought, hearing Damon's mental laugh.

"Did you dream of me?" He asked.

"Yes," She admitted grudgingly. She had a very lucid dream about him. She'd dreamed of his hands caressing her, of his mouth devouring her in places she never thought could be devoured.

His lush lips inched into a surprised but pleased smile.

"You were naked," She told him.

His grin spread like wild fire, his eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

"And tied up..."

He arched his eye brows in smug expectation and what she hoped was a bit of surprise, too.

Celeste smiled in satisfaction. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Two and a half days." Damon turned his whole body this time, his eyes sparkling with something she thought was long gone. "It's Christmas Eve."

Was it really? She'd completely forgotten that Christmas was right around the corner, literally. She hadn't even bothered to think of Christmas.

Crap!

She had forgotten gifts for everyone. She scrambled out of the bed, nearly tripping over her own two feet that were tangled in the bed sheet. She froze when she heard Damon's musical laugh.

"Relax, Ivanov." Damon smirked. "Your gifts for everyone are under the giant tree in the living room."

Giant tree?

Oh this couldn't be good.

"It's not." Damon responded. "Mutt, Little Gilbert and Elena are up on the roof setting up Christmas lights while my little brother is supervising them. Bonnie is making hot cocoa with her special witchy juju cook book and Caroline is attempting not to burn my house down, let alone the whole town, trying to bake gingerbread cookies while wolf boy Tyler is making eggnog." He wrinkled his nose is disdain. "Even the three little werewolves are out there running garland all over my nice, trim bushes."

Celeste was hopping on one foot, trying to get her boot on as she listened to him.

"What, you don't like Christmas?"

"Despise it." Damon answered.

"Will you come and take a walk in the snow with me?"

"Don't like the cold." Damon replied.

Celeste stopped to look at him.

Back to the teasing.

Lovely.

"You are beyond frustrating," She grumbled, hopping on the other foot to get her other boot on. "Why can't you do what I ask without issuing a million reasons why you won't first?"

"Because that would require me to get dress."

"We could always go streaking." Celeste shrugged her shoulders, pulling on her leather jacket.

Damon gave her a dead pan look.

Celeste couldn't resist. "Oh right, my bad." She held her hands up. "You're worried about shrinkage. I can see why, too, since you know, you're immortal and all, and I'm fairly certain that they don't make a vampire equivalent of Viagra."

She took off running, screaming at the top of her vampire lungs when she caught a glimpse of his face. It was safe to say she had the whole house wondering what the hell was happening. She managed to not run into Stefan as she took off out the front door, which was a feat in itself, with the size of him and the size of the front door being about the same width.

Damon had managed to tackle her to the ground, while everyone stood around, laughing and smiling. Using her vampire strength, Celeste managed to flip them over, so that she was on top. "Pinned ya."

Damon reversed and was soon on top of her. "I'm stronger, older, faster."

"You like to think so." The golden rays of the moon paid him absolute tribute. He was a buffet of muscles and corded strength. Something that made him so much more desirable. He knew she could take his abuse - so he didn't hold back one bit.

"Shhh." Damon grinned.

"Shush me again, I dare you."

"Shhhh-"

She kicked him in the gut and flipped him off her, landing in a deadly crouch.

Damon regained himself and landed in a lazy crouch.

He had no one but himself to blame, for he'd opened himself up to it.

His face was introduced to a ice cold, wet, mushy ball of snow.

Looking over at Celeste, who was bouncing on her balls of her feet, grinning like a child that had gotten the biggest sucker in the world. The rest of the gang were dumbfounded, staring at one another, wondering what would happen next.

He gave her what no one else had ever been able to give. A past to cherish. A present to enjoy. A future to anticipate.

"You two gonna stand there fucking each other with your eyes all night, or can we get on with it?" She heard Zane shouted.

She couldn't help it.

She fell over in a fit of giggles.

And that's when Damon pounced, sitting on her, pinning her to the cold ground.

Once, long ago in her world, a sunny day in Spring was her favorite time of year, but now a sunny day in winter delights her even more. It is the perfect metaphor for their love.

Sunshine on ice.

She warms his frost.

He cools her fever.

They melted into each other.

Some people bring out the worst in you, others bring out the best, and then there are those remarkably rare, addictive ones who just bring out the most. Of everything. You want to believe in black and white, good and evil, heroes that are truly heroic, villains that are just plain bad, but I've learned in the past year that things are rarely so simple. The good guys can do some truly awful things, and the bad guys can sometimes surprise the hell out of you. That was Damon. He was everything and more. And he surprised her more than anyone else.

Damon had leaned down to whisper into her ear. "You and I are going to have a long talk about smacking me in the face with a snowball."

"Bring it on, Tinker Bell." Celeste whispered back, grinning.

He wasn't handsome. That was too calm a word. He was intensely masculine. He was sexual. He attracted. And he punished those who teased him.

Mainly her.

Damon had picked her up and thrown her over his shoulder.

If he was winter, she was summer. If she was sunshine, he was night. A dark and stormy one. Every time she tried to figure him out and picture what he'd do next, he would go and surprise and do something completely opposite of what she thought he would do.

Damon had carried her into the house and up the stairs, calling over his shoulder that no one was to disturb them. Good or Evil, right or wrong, he mattered to her and she never letting him go.

They got to the bedroom and it was war.

Damon threw off her shoes while Celeste threw off his shirt.

They threw off a piece of clothing each time until they were bare, with Damon pressing his full length against her thigh. Sometimes she worried that there's not enough room in her brain for both her dreams and reality that she's a hard drive with limited gigabytes and one day she won't be able to maintain the firewall between them. She wondered if that's what senility is. Then again, with the way Damon worked his tongue, her reality was becoming better than her dreams.

Leaning down onto his arms, he prowled up the bed to her body, his eyes fixated on her secret skin as if he'd never seen anything like it. When he got in range, wide hands smoothed their way up the insides of her thighs, opening them even farther, so she sat up and captured his face in her hands.

His eyes flashed and he held his position for a split second.

Then he lunged at her, taking her down onto the bed. His tongue shot into her mouth, teeth clashing against each other and his hands tangled in her hair, trapping her head. The hunger in him was ferocious, a vampire warrior's thick-blooded need for the female company. For sex. He was going to take her with all the strength he had, and she was going to be sore when he was through using her. Sore and utterly blissed out.

She couldn't wait.

Yes, she decided, a man can truly change. The events of the past have taught her much about herself, and a few universal truths. She learned, for instance, that while wounds can be inflicted easily upon those we love, it's often much more difficult to heal them. Yet the process of healing those wounds provided the richest experience of her life, leading her to believe that while she has often overestimated what she could accomplish in a day, she had underestimated what she could do in a half of a year. But most of all, she learned that it's possible for two people to fall in love all over again, even when there's been a lifetime of disappointment between them.