He would die if it could take away her pain. Not that he'd let her know
that. Not yet anyway. He'd told her he loved her once, and that was more
then enough explanation on his part. He'd felt her hurt from across town.
It hadn't been hard to find her.
Elena stiffened at the feel of a presence behind her, but when she felt arms go around her waist, she smelt his cologne, and the leather of his jacket, she knew who it was.
Neither of them spoke. Elena leaned into the embrace; silent tears dripped down her cheeks as she gazed up at the sky, at the stars and the full moon. Wondering how anyone could actually wish upon stars. Knowing how many she could wish to, knowing not one would make anything better.
Softly Damon lifted a strand of hair from her damp cheeks, not daring to say anything; afraid if he spoke maybe she'd be gone. He could hold her forever, just like this, without Stefan to get in the way, to brake them up. He knew what had happened even without asking. She'd done the unthinkable. Elena had left Stefan.
Have a nice life. But remember I don't want to see you again. He'd said that. To her. The line played over and over in Elena's mind and even the strong arms and warmth from the man that held her could not dissolve the feelings she felt.
Elena sighed, she wondered if she had done the right thing. But when she felt soft butterfly kisses on her temple, a fragment of the doubt went away. She didn't trust her voice to speak yet, knowing that if she spoke she'd crumble, start crying harder again at the thought of how deeply she had hurt Stefan.
I could kill you, brother, for hurting Elena. Damon said in his head, wanting to project the thought to his brother but he didn't.
The fire inside of them, the complete understanding between them, went deeper then words could. There was the fire inside Elena that burned, and the fire inside of himself that burned equally as bright. But at this moment the spark inside the woman he loved was threatening to burn out, slowly it was dwindling and he wouldn't let that happen.
One of the main things that he loved about her was that spark, the fire inside her that challenged his own. In his opinion, his little brother should have known.
When you play with fire you get burnt. It's the same with her. When will you learn, brother? When?
Elena hadn't moved positions, she was leaning her head against his chest, head tilted upwards to the sky. She looked ethereal in that moment, with the moon's light washing over her face, subtly enhancing her looks. Her blue eyes sparkled with the remaining tears, her blond hair shined under the light. Damon held her closer to him, his chin resting on her head wanting to bury his face in her hair.
He held her tightly to him, listening to her breathe, feeling her stomach rise and fall.
I'm not going to loose you this time. I will love you the way you want to be loved. I'll be there when you need me. Damon thought.
He had never made a promise to Elena. Except when she had been dying in Katherine's crypt; when she made Stefan promise them to look out for each other. But that hadn't been Damon saying anything. Stefan had more like promised for the both of them.
His thoughts drifted to that night, when he had felt like his world was falling at his feet, when he realized the woman he loved was going to die, and that he had never told her he loved her.
He'd been unfair and unkind to her most of the time and he regretted it, and she didn't know how much he wanted to take it all back. He'd cried for the first time in about 500 years. He'd cried for her, for the fact that she was dying for him, for his lousy life that he spent treating people like the dirt he walked on. For the life he spent stalking and tormenting her.
Elena was giving her last breath to make sure he got along with his brother.
Even if she didn't know it, he had kept his word.
In his way he had looked after Stefan. It'd been hard, and not easy for either of the two, but he had. And he was going to take care of Elena.
Elena stiffened at the feel of a presence behind her, but when she felt arms go around her waist, she smelt his cologne, and the leather of his jacket, she knew who it was.
Neither of them spoke. Elena leaned into the embrace; silent tears dripped down her cheeks as she gazed up at the sky, at the stars and the full moon. Wondering how anyone could actually wish upon stars. Knowing how many she could wish to, knowing not one would make anything better.
Softly Damon lifted a strand of hair from her damp cheeks, not daring to say anything; afraid if he spoke maybe she'd be gone. He could hold her forever, just like this, without Stefan to get in the way, to brake them up. He knew what had happened even without asking. She'd done the unthinkable. Elena had left Stefan.
Have a nice life. But remember I don't want to see you again. He'd said that. To her. The line played over and over in Elena's mind and even the strong arms and warmth from the man that held her could not dissolve the feelings she felt.
Elena sighed, she wondered if she had done the right thing. But when she felt soft butterfly kisses on her temple, a fragment of the doubt went away. She didn't trust her voice to speak yet, knowing that if she spoke she'd crumble, start crying harder again at the thought of how deeply she had hurt Stefan.
I could kill you, brother, for hurting Elena. Damon said in his head, wanting to project the thought to his brother but he didn't.
The fire inside of them, the complete understanding between them, went deeper then words could. There was the fire inside Elena that burned, and the fire inside of himself that burned equally as bright. But at this moment the spark inside the woman he loved was threatening to burn out, slowly it was dwindling and he wouldn't let that happen.
One of the main things that he loved about her was that spark, the fire inside her that challenged his own. In his opinion, his little brother should have known.
When you play with fire you get burnt. It's the same with her. When will you learn, brother? When?
Elena hadn't moved positions, she was leaning her head against his chest, head tilted upwards to the sky. She looked ethereal in that moment, with the moon's light washing over her face, subtly enhancing her looks. Her blue eyes sparkled with the remaining tears, her blond hair shined under the light. Damon held her closer to him, his chin resting on her head wanting to bury his face in her hair.
He held her tightly to him, listening to her breathe, feeling her stomach rise and fall.
I'm not going to loose you this time. I will love you the way you want to be loved. I'll be there when you need me. Damon thought.
He had never made a promise to Elena. Except when she had been dying in Katherine's crypt; when she made Stefan promise them to look out for each other. But that hadn't been Damon saying anything. Stefan had more like promised for the both of them.
His thoughts drifted to that night, when he had felt like his world was falling at his feet, when he realized the woman he loved was going to die, and that he had never told her he loved her.
He'd been unfair and unkind to her most of the time and he regretted it, and she didn't know how much he wanted to take it all back. He'd cried for the first time in about 500 years. He'd cried for her, for the fact that she was dying for him, for his lousy life that he spent treating people like the dirt he walked on. For the life he spent stalking and tormenting her.
Elena was giving her last breath to make sure he got along with his brother.
Even if she didn't know it, he had kept his word.
In his way he had looked after Stefan. It'd been hard, and not easy for either of the two, but he had. And he was going to take care of Elena.