The light is even stranger, the scene before him almost dreamlike. The pad of Damon's right index finger rests on the trigger as he locks on Elena's face. Just one shot is all it will take to blow her head from her body. He stares at her through the scope, his finger at the ready...

Several intense seconds pass before Damon sets the weapon down. He can't kill Elena, he simply cannot make himself pull the trigger.

And now he has another conundrum. He has to find a way to keep her safe from Esther Mikaelson and still remove himself from her life.

Sighing, Damon takes apart his rifle, puts it back in his case, and quickly escapes via the stairwell, walking down all 36 floors before walking out as if he's just another customer. He has no idea what he's going to do.

All he knows with any certainty is that he's in love with her...

Damon knows he's only prolonging the inevitable and as selfish as it is, he had to spend just a few more hours with her. After picking her up, he suggests they go for a drive in the hills surrounding Monte Carlo.

The rental car glides down the highway with a purr. Elena sits nervously in the passenger seat and fidgets with her hair. Damon reaches out and grabs one of her hands. She jumps at the sudden contact and turns to look at him.

"Something wrong, Elena, you seem on edge?"

"No." She shakes her head as she watches the scenery pass.

Soon the car pulls off the highway and onto a dirt road. Elena braces herself by holding onto the door as the car thuds through the gravel and dust. Soon they come up to a building that looks incredibly out of place for its location.

"Where are we going?" she asks, as the sun is beginning to set over the Mediterranean.

"Tonight's the Lyrids."

"The what?"

"The Lyrids," he repeats. "Meteor shower."

"Oh." she pauses. "I've never actually gone out of my way to watch a meteor shower."

"Never?"

"No, but I'd love to see them...with you," Elena states, smiling at him.

"Really?"

Elena laughs. "Yes, really," she says but just as her fingers hit the door handle Damon's hand grabs hers and pulls her close to him. She gasps as she feels his breath on her face and his chest pressing up to hers. He loosens his grip but his fingers still linger on her wrist.

As Elena looks into his icy blue eyes, she feels her heart ratchet up. Her gaze drifts to his lip, they're so full and soft as rose petals. She wants to park in a discreet place and kiss him until the sun rises. She nods and closes her eyes at the feel of his fingertips lingering on her skin for a brief moment.

"Have you been to Baie de Garavan Beach?" he asks and she shakes her head. "It's a bit of a drive, but it's probably ideal for something like this."

Elena nods.

"Beach it is." He pulls away back into traffic as she fastens her seatbelt. Sometime later when he pulls into the deserted parking lot overlooking the beach, Damon parks in a space overlooking the inky black ocean. His headlights shine out into the empty darkness with nothing to illuminate, simply fading into the void of dark night as the engine idles. "This okay?"

"Perfect," Elena replies.

Damon cuts the engine and they both climb out of the car; he opens the trunk and retrieves two fleece throws. He tucks them under one arm and reaches for her hand with the other. The air is a little cool, but the wind kicking up off the water is chilly enough that she's glad he thought to bring them. The heat of his palm warms her hand, and the way he keeps glancing over at her as they navigate uneven ground warms her from the inside. They clamber down the slope to where the earth meets the gravelly sand and draw to a halt as he peers at her through the darkness.

"How about here?"

"Perfect," Elena agrees, and he spreads the blanket out at the foot of the small hill and drops the smaller one on top of it before kicking off his boots and stepping onto the blanket in his socks. She does the same and sits down on the sand. Glancing upward, the stars twinkle down at them, the moon bright white against the black velvet sky.

"The peak activity is supposed to be between midnight and one-thirty," Damon says as he lowers himself beside her, reclining to follow her gaze up to the night sky.

"What time is it?" she asks, and he glances at his watch.

"Eleven forty-five." He returns his eyes to the heavens.

"I hope those clouds don't obscure it," Elena says, pointing to where silhouettes loom in the distance. They watch the sky in silence for a few minutes, her eyes scanning the heavens, hoping to see the light show. "Why do people wish on shooting stars?" she wonders idly, still scanning the darkness.

"Because they're rare?" Damon suggests. "People wish on all sorts of things."

Elena pulls her eyes from the sky to peek at him.

"Know what's funny, though?"

"What?" Elena asks, returning her focus to star-hunting.

"The fact that they're called 'shooting' stars."

"Why is that funny?" Elena looks at him as her right hand sifts through the sand.

"Because they're not shooting, they're falling. Shooting stars are actually falling into the Earth's atmosphere, and they become visible when they burn up. So we're actually making a wish on something that's being incinerated. Beautiful, though," he murmurs. "That people give those doomed dust particles such significance. Placing their dreams onto something destined to burn up in the heavens."

"That's…kind of sad, really," Elena remarks, her eyes meeting his.

"Yeah," Damon says softly, his hand finding hers on the blanket between them, his fingers linking with hers. Then, after a beat, "If you could pick something to wish on, what would it be?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, if you had to give something wish-granting power, what would it be?"

"Hmmmmm," Elena considers as she gazes at the sky. "I want to know who you are, Martin de Porres." She turns her face to find him gazing at her intently. "You're very hush-hush about yourself. Why?"

"There's not much to tell," he obfuscates.

"Martin, you know everything about me and I know literally nothing about you. What are you hiding?" Elena asks, locking eyes with his.

"Elena, let's enjoy the evening. Tomorrow morning, I'll take you out for breakfast, and then we'll go to the Cathedral of Our Lady Immaculate and talk."

"The Cathedral?"

"Yes, it's peaceful," Damon tells her but doesn't offer any more of an explanation.

He certainly is puzzling and Elena wonders if maybe Matt was correct about him engaging in illegal activities? "Alright," she concedes with a sigh and raises her eyes. "What about you? What would you wish for?"

"If I tell you, it won't come true." Damon turns away and raises his eyes to the sky. "I like you, Elena," he murmurs, squeezing her fingers gently, his eyes shining in the darkness.

"I like you, too," Elena whispers, and when she sees him lick his lips she forgets all about the cool breeze coming off the Mediterranean as heat surges through her. He rolls to his side and she mirrors him so that they're facing each other on the blanket. The hand not holding mine curls around her hip, and she inches closer to him.

His lips purse and his fingers tighten faintly against her hipbone as he scoots toward her. "Hi."

"Hi," Elena replies in a whisper as he moves closer still and his lips are on hers. They're warm as his mouth moves gently over hers. She shivers against him, and he pulls back, a slight frown warring with the arousal in his eyes. "Are you cold?"

"No," she says as he draws the blanket over them.

"Do you want to leave?"

Elena shakes her head back and forth.

A smirk, and he's kissing her again, the blanket making a cocoon around them that heats up as their kisses grow more fervent. His teeth nip at her lower lip and she gasps into his mouth. Elena can feel his hand sliding up and down her side, grazing the side of her breast with each pass, and her desperation for his touch grows with every kiss.

He tears his mouth from hers, pressing open-mouthed kisses up the side of her neck. "I swear I didn't bring you here for this." He looks at her earnestly before rolling onto his back and shifting his gaze upward.

The sky has clouded over, and there is only the odd star visible through the clouds, the outlines of which glow silver in the moonlight.

"Oh no." Elena nods toward the sky where silver-silhouetted clouds obscure the stars.

He follows her gaze, but relief is evident on his face as he shrugs.

"I'm sorry we didn't see any stars." She looks at him with a pout.

"Speak for yourself," he murmurs, catching her lips with his.

It's late by the time they get back to Elena's hotel. He knows he should say goodnight, go straight to the airport and remove himself from her life.

Damon might possibly be the most selfish man on earth. This occurs to him as he holds her in his arms, and realizes that the pleasure he gets from having her close like this is enough to drown out the horrible things he's done.

Despite it all and knowing that if she knew the truth, she'd kick him out of her life, he wants to be with her again and for a moment, it doesn't seem to matter how close he came to snuffing her life out.

He is that terrible and fucked up. The world seems to start spinning again and Damon would devour her if he could.

So fucking selfish, he thinks again. His breath leaves his chest in a painful rash, and he clutches a fistful of hair.

He tries to be good, he tries to be decent, he tries to be respectful, but when he looks up at her with hazy, half-lidded eyes, and sees the soft, almost dreamy expression on her face, something in him snaps.

In the end, her lips are just too tempting, and the urge to kiss her again is too strong. And once again she yields to him, all heat and softness like this are all she's ever wanted, and that's all the encouragement he needs to tug her against him even more tightly, to slide his mouth against hers again and take all that she'll give.

Her hands are tugging at his tie before he even realizes what's happening, and then his jacket slips from his shoulders, then her beautiful, elegant fingers are plucking at the buttons of his shirt, kissing him all the while.

Damon takes a handful of her hair, and tugs gently, forcing her to meet his eyes. He hasn't said a single word since she arrived, he realizes suddenly. And even now he can't think of a damned thing to say.

Elena's eyes seem so wild, dark, and even dangerous as she shakes her head like a petulant child.

"I need you," she whispers, in a low, almost breathless voice. "I don't want to think about anything else but us."

With her flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and stormy eyes, she is the most beautiful thing Damon's ever seen, and he can't deny her anything. He nods, his fingers gently sliding along her jaw to pull her back to him for another taste.

But when her hands slip between the folds of his opened shirt and touch his bare skin, he loses all semblance of control, any small bit of finesse that he might possess. He lifts her against him, stumbling backward like he's drunk or stoned - in reality, that might not be too far from the truth. He is drunk on her - and helps her tug up the skirt of her dress so she can wrap her legs around his waist. She is so hot and desperate against him, and it makes it impossible to think clearly. She nips at his bottom lip, licks at his pulse point, and even kisses his closed eyes, so he stops wasting time and carries her to the bed...

He lowers her to the mattress, and it is impossible to doubt the realness of the moment. Her nails scrape against his bare back, her mouth brands his neck hotly, and her thighs tremble against his hips.

They fumble together to tug her dress over her head. Her hair falls into her eyes and gives her a wild look. Lying against the pale sheets in her black bra, panties, and stockings, she is so stunning that she quite literally takes his breath away. His chest aches, and he brushes her hair from her eyes so he can really look at her. She offers up a trembling smile, even as she tugs at the button and zipper of his pants and sneaks her hand inside. When her fist closes around him, so hot and demanding, Damon closes his eyes and hisses out his pleasure.

No one has ever touched him like this.

No one ever will.

He tries not to think that this will be the last time...

Later as they glow in the aftermath, Damon presses his lips to her forehead and sighs.

"I want you to stay and I want to know who you are. Promise me," Elena looks up, her eyes locking on his.

"I'll stay and we'll talk," Damon whispers back in a lie.

And that's that.

She tucks herself against him, and his arms wrap around her, and there's nothing left to worry about for the night.

In the morning, when the cold light of day shines, he'll be gone.

He falls asleep with her breath against his chest, her warm body against his, and her name on his lips.

Everything is right in his world at this moment.

But only for tonight...

Huge thanks to all of you. Blows kisses!

Thank you and love you, Eva.

The Lyrids are a meteor shower lasting from April 16 to April 25 each year. The radiant of the meteor shower is located in the constellation Lyra, near its brightest star, Vega. The peak of the shower is typically around April 22 each year.

Chapter title: 'Shooting Star' by Owl City.

Things will start to intensify in the next chapter ;)

Have a wonderful weekend.