Damon stood by the window, just watching her sleep. He couldn't sleep, but
after the talk she'd went upstairs after bidding goodnight to Bonnie and
Stefan and had soon gone to bed. The moonlight shone through the window,
casting gentle shadows across her face.
She looked so peaceful, so serene, and he wondered if she'd ever have the peace she deserved. He watched her chest rise and fall with each soft breath, and his heart thudded dully in his chest as he remembered the night she had come back.
He remembered the pain; the hurt. Remembered thinking how she was back; she was okay; she wasn't his. Damon remembered how she'd wanted him to return her warmth; her love. To want him to show the simple gesture of caring; a hug. That would have simply broken him, shattered his resolve, his control. He'd tried so hard not to touch her; wanting desperately to.
He'd wanted to run his fingers through those silky strands of hair, to touch her face and kiss her lips. To feel her body so close to his that he could feel her every heart beat.
Damon shut his eyes, still lost in his thoughts. Remembering how he wanted to do those things, how he loved her, hoping she knew it and understood he hadn't shunned her to hurt her, it was to keep himself from hurting more. Besides, he'd wanted to leave her to be happy. If it was Stefan she wanted, so be it. As long as she was happy he was all right. He'd owed her at least that much.
He'd known he'd never stop loving her; even if she wasn't his. And he hadn't. And now she was.
Damon opened his eyes, studying her, every part of her. Smiling at the thought that she was all his, down to every last strand of hair. He moved to the bed, reaching out and stroking her hair, brushing it off her forehead. He placed a kiss on her soft cheek.
A few moments later he got in bed beside her and pulled the covers up around her again. Elena shifted beside him, snuggling closer, and the warmth of her body even brought emotions. He couldn't help loving her. He'd kill anything that tried to harm her. If she died fighting evil again, he'd die--again.
He shut his eyes, arms around her, and his thoughts drifted to the night she died. He remembered when he'd finally gained consciousness and had seen her and Stefan in the middle of the crypt he'd knew something was wrong.
And when he heard what she'd told Stefan about telling her aunt and friends she loved them, he dragged himself over to where they were. The pain had shot through his body but he'd forced himself to get to them, to _her_.
And when he'd reached the spot she'd looked to weak, so frail, so unlike the Elena with that flame he'd been drawn to. Damon remembered being unable to cope--not wanting to accept her dying. And dying for him nontheless.
He'd tried to tell her it'd be okay, that he'd even take her home but she had known the truth. She was going home but not to her house. And as she'd said "just to wait a little while" he'd understood, he'd realized he was loosing her. He'd wanted to hold her, to even just take her hand. To tell her that he was sorry for every single thing he had ever done to hurt her.
He'd wanted to be the one holding her, telling her he loved her. But he couldn't bring himself to say it.
He'd vaguely even heard Stefan telling her she could rest. All he could think about was that she was dying, she wasn't going to come back, and it was partially his fault. She'd risked her life to save his.
That's when he'd felt his eyes brim with tears, and as one slipped down his cheek he hadn't cared. It'd been so long since he'd cried, the last time he'd cried was when he learned his mother had died. And now another person he loved was being taken from him.
Then Elena had reached up, touched his cheek, tracing the tear and he'd almost blurted out his feelings. But instead he'd kept quiet. She'd told him not to be sad, and he'd thought that was it, that that would be the last thing she said. Except, she'd looked worried, like she had just thought of something that she needed to do.
She'd made his brother promise to take care of each other. And then Damon understood. Elena was making sure someone was there to push him like she had, to try and get beneath his mask. But he knew no one could. Not like she had.
Elena was the only one who'd understood him; who'd been able to see things other people couldn't. And then she had closed her eyes and he knew she was gone....
Damon's eyes snapped open and his breathing was labored. He reached out to touch Elena's face; as if making sure she was still there. He tried to control his breathing; the memories had shaken him up.
"_Enough_ ," he thought, and shut his eyes again, drifting into a dreamless sleep.
She looked so peaceful, so serene, and he wondered if she'd ever have the peace she deserved. He watched her chest rise and fall with each soft breath, and his heart thudded dully in his chest as he remembered the night she had come back.
He remembered the pain; the hurt. Remembered thinking how she was back; she was okay; she wasn't his. Damon remembered how she'd wanted him to return her warmth; her love. To want him to show the simple gesture of caring; a hug. That would have simply broken him, shattered his resolve, his control. He'd tried so hard not to touch her; wanting desperately to.
He'd wanted to run his fingers through those silky strands of hair, to touch her face and kiss her lips. To feel her body so close to his that he could feel her every heart beat.
Damon shut his eyes, still lost in his thoughts. Remembering how he wanted to do those things, how he loved her, hoping she knew it and understood he hadn't shunned her to hurt her, it was to keep himself from hurting more. Besides, he'd wanted to leave her to be happy. If it was Stefan she wanted, so be it. As long as she was happy he was all right. He'd owed her at least that much.
He'd known he'd never stop loving her; even if she wasn't his. And he hadn't. And now she was.
Damon opened his eyes, studying her, every part of her. Smiling at the thought that she was all his, down to every last strand of hair. He moved to the bed, reaching out and stroking her hair, brushing it off her forehead. He placed a kiss on her soft cheek.
A few moments later he got in bed beside her and pulled the covers up around her again. Elena shifted beside him, snuggling closer, and the warmth of her body even brought emotions. He couldn't help loving her. He'd kill anything that tried to harm her. If she died fighting evil again, he'd die--again.
He shut his eyes, arms around her, and his thoughts drifted to the night she died. He remembered when he'd finally gained consciousness and had seen her and Stefan in the middle of the crypt he'd knew something was wrong.
And when he heard what she'd told Stefan about telling her aunt and friends she loved them, he dragged himself over to where they were. The pain had shot through his body but he'd forced himself to get to them, to _her_.
And when he'd reached the spot she'd looked to weak, so frail, so unlike the Elena with that flame he'd been drawn to. Damon remembered being unable to cope--not wanting to accept her dying. And dying for him nontheless.
He'd tried to tell her it'd be okay, that he'd even take her home but she had known the truth. She was going home but not to her house. And as she'd said "just to wait a little while" he'd understood, he'd realized he was loosing her. He'd wanted to hold her, to even just take her hand. To tell her that he was sorry for every single thing he had ever done to hurt her.
He'd wanted to be the one holding her, telling her he loved her. But he couldn't bring himself to say it.
He'd vaguely even heard Stefan telling her she could rest. All he could think about was that she was dying, she wasn't going to come back, and it was partially his fault. She'd risked her life to save his.
That's when he'd felt his eyes brim with tears, and as one slipped down his cheek he hadn't cared. It'd been so long since he'd cried, the last time he'd cried was when he learned his mother had died. And now another person he loved was being taken from him.
Then Elena had reached up, touched his cheek, tracing the tear and he'd almost blurted out his feelings. But instead he'd kept quiet. She'd told him not to be sad, and he'd thought that was it, that that would be the last thing she said. Except, she'd looked worried, like she had just thought of something that she needed to do.
She'd made his brother promise to take care of each other. And then Damon understood. Elena was making sure someone was there to push him like she had, to try and get beneath his mask. But he knew no one could. Not like she had.
Elena was the only one who'd understood him; who'd been able to see things other people couldn't. And then she had closed her eyes and he knew she was gone....
Damon's eyes snapped open and his breathing was labored. He reached out to touch Elena's face; as if making sure she was still there. He tried to control his breathing; the memories had shaken him up.
"_Enough_ ," he thought, and shut his eyes again, drifting into a dreamless sleep.