A/N: I just wanted to thank everyone who took the time out of their day to leave a review on the first chapter, as it means a great deal to me! My apologies that chapter two was a bit delayed; I wanted to be meticulous and make sure that I was happy with the end result! I'm thinking another chapter or two before I conclude this story, but rest assured that I am currently working on the outline of a new story that will be greater in terms of longevity.
With that out of the way, please enjoy this chapter! :)
"We're vampires, meaning that we can virtually travel anywhere in the world at only the mere cost of a compelled travel agent, and you're telling me that you would choose Florida?"
It was four am, mid-July. The height of summer was upon Mystic Falls, meaning that every day and night alike was spent in sweltering, humid heat that made her toes curl and the kisses she shared with the love of her life sticky and sweet.
If possible, Elena swore she would've given anything to burn the current moment into her memory for the rest of eternity: warm breeze blowing in through the open window of Damon's room, bodies intertwined under crimson red silk sheets, and not a single care in the world between the two as they spent the better part of an hour bantering back and forth.
"Don't be an ass—Florida is fun! My family used to always go there when Jer and I were kids."
Elena was indignant on the subject matter of where they would go on their hypothetical honeymoon. Even though Damon pretended to be annoyed at her stubbornness, she didn't need to be able to see through the darkness to know that there was currently a gleam of joy in his cerulean eyes.
"You do realize that a honeymoon location is supposed to be someplace ridiculous and over-the-top, right? Not a nostalgic trip down memory lane? I'm not so sure you'd want me doing unspeakable things to you on your favorite childhood ride at Disney World."
This time, she knew without a doubt that there was a gleam in those eyes as she shoved him.
"Alright, Mr. Picky. Please tell me what location you have in mind that is superior to Florida?"
She didn't expect him to have an answer eagerly waiting, and the fact that he did made her heart flutter in her chest more than usual.
"Europe. Italy, specifically...maybe London. I haven't been overseas since the '90s, and I think you would enjoy it over there, being a hopeless romantic and all."
She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the smug remark.
"Fine, but do your fancy vacation spots have Epcot and Animal Kingdom? I don't think so!"
She giggled as she was met by his lips crushing against hers in response, a sentiment that simultaneously warmed her heart and set her body on fire.
Every moment they had spent together that first summer had made her come to terms with the fact that her immortality, although not ideal, would be spent living magnificently and lavishly with the one person on Earth who never failed to put a smile on her face.
How ironic then, she thought as she stared at the unfamiliar off-white ceiling that permeated her vision, that she had been living in cheap hotel rooms with a penchant for poker faces over the last several decades.
She sighed, sick of feeling sorry for herself as she rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. It seemed that the only nights she got to experience uninterrupted sleep that wasn't plagued by dreams of what she had lost were the nights that she went to bed drunk.
Perhaps this is why he always drank; she couldn't help but think as she eyed the hotel room's mini bar in the corner of the room. Was he plagued by demons from his past when he slept, too?
She was in Colorado currently, chasing another likely dead-end lead...or was it Wyoming? Grief consumed so much of her thoughts and sadness so much of her brain that it was no wonder she had trouble remembering such mundane things.
Deciding that getting a drink for hydration was a better idea than one for sleep aid, she stumbled across the dark hotel room and into the bathroom in search of water.
Flicking the light on, she drowsily filled a cup perched on the sink with water, but not before examining her reflection.
Upon doing so, she realized rather bitterly that she was no longer the woman that had held Damon Salvatore's love.
Yes, the same doe eyes were staring back at her; the same button nose and pursued lips still graced her face, but she somehow looked different. Maybe older.
So many times during her human life she had found herself pondering how some of the creatures she crossed paths with were so far disconnected from their humanity. It had seemed so foreign to her, a human, as to how a person could truly become the monster they so vehemently pretended to be.
She didn't ponder anymore.
While she of course was no monster and had not flipped her humanity switch since the death of her brother, she couldn't help but feel like the years and years of loneliness and yearning had changed her. Hardened her.
A rather uncomfortable thought, one that questioned if Damon would still love this version of her crept up, but she did all that she could to suppress it.
She was not Katherine Pierce. She was still the compassionate, fiery, caring Elena that he and everyone else knew and loved...even if that side of her was a little buried for the time being.
Besides, all that mattered was finding a witch who knew a spell to bring him back. That was the endgame, and she would do whatever she had to do to achieve it.
Even at early dawn, there was a wetness in the air outside the hotel room that moistened her skin and clung to her clothes, so she hastily decided that the less she could wear, the better.
Deciding on a black fitted tee shirt and cut off denim shorts, she quickly packed the sparse essentials she traveled with into her suitcase.
Perhaps 'essentials' was a strong word...while she did travel lightly, she couldn't deny the fact that she had more than a few unnecessary items.
Damon-related items.
With shaking hands, she gently stuffed all of her Damon memorabilia on top of her already-packed wardrobe: his favorite book—Call of The Wild by Jack London, a nearly empty bottle of his aftershave, one of his many button ups that his scent was barely clinging to after all this time, and his daylight ring.
For years after the incident, Stefan had been adamant on keeping the daylight ring in his possession. You can take anything else, but just let me have the daylight ring, he had begged her on the first of many unsuccessful attempts to sort through Damon's things.
Staring at the cold and unforgiving antique ring all these years later, all it did was bring her great sadness. Not because of the obvious, but because she couldn't look at it now without remembering the day Stefan had given it up to her.
The day he had decided he was done grieving his brother, done looking for him.
I don't expect you to move on, she remembered how resolute and detached he had sounded, but I can't spend another day looking for a way to bring back someone who is gone forever. I'm sorry, Elena.
Still to this day, Elena could not wrap her head around how Stefan had possibly managed to get past the death of his own brother.
Was she doing something wrong? Should she force herself to move on?
She almost found the thought amusing as she zipped up her now packed suitcase. She had been there, done that at least a dozen times over during the course of the past half century, but she could never pull it off.
The problem was that she cared too much. Long ago, she had accused Damon of the same thing, and his retort back had been some snide comment about being a liability.
She supposed that was what she was now; an embarrassment, a grief-stricken girl clinging to nonexistent hope.
She suddenly felt an incredible empathy for all those years Damon had spent searching for a way to bring Katherine back. If she had been in his shoes and had reached the light at the end of the tunnel only to find out that it had all been fruitless…
In retrospect, she wished that she had done a lot more than hug him in consolation that night.
Tugging her suitcase off the bed in an attempt to disrupt her thoughts, she wrestled it out the hotel room door before heading downstairs to meet the Camaro for their next adventure.
Another day wasted on what had turned out to be a trivial lead; this, unfortunately, was beginning to sound like the story of her life. All the hassle of tracking down the witch that taught an occult study halfway across the country, and for what? Only for her to crush what little hope Elena had left, apparently.
Sitting in a bar in the middle of nowhere, drowning out her sorrows with a drink that was the favorite of her former boyfriend seemed like the only appropriate way to spend the evening of such a disappointing day.
As she busied herself with studying the behavior of the bar patrons around her, she couldn't help but let her mind idly wander back to the soul-crushing words of the witch just hours prior:
Pulling someone back from a spell of that caliber is not the kind of power I possess nor care to. It would do you well to move on with your eternal life, dear. I would bet my bottom dollar that you'll never find the answer you're looking for.
Had she been right? Would Elena never find a witch who was both willing to help and strong enough to do so?
The thought depressed her even further, and she decided then that she was due for a distraction.
A distraction by way of quenching her thirst, perhaps.
Just as she had set her sights on the perfect candidate for Damon's signature snatch-eat-erase method, which she had been a passionate advocate of for the past half century, she heard a voice that took her by such surprise that her predatory mindset was immediately discarded.
"Elena?"
She quickly turned around on the bar stool at the sound, doing a double take in disbelief at the figure that stood before her.
Bonnie.