A/N: I apologize for the delay. I blame my lack of muse. And I want to take a moment to thank everyone who has reviewed my story. We are starting to near towards the end and I am incredibly humbled that you have come along for this journey.

One month later.

Screaming silence. That was the only way that Elena could describe it. So used to Katherine's constant invasion of her mind was she, that now with her gone, it was so quiet. Unnervingly so. She didn't miss her, don't misunderstand. But she had been so conditioned to it, that she suddenly felt strange. The quiet was too quiet. Even the smallest sound seemed amplified. And what about Katherine? Was she simply just…gone? Like that? She didn't know. She didn't want to know, really.

Elena was laid back on Damon's bed. Her eyes were covered with a satin eye mask. Her eyes hadn't quite recovered yet from that night a month ago. She felt their constant pulsating and knew that her body was slow to repair itself. As it was, she still had burn marks across her chest from the Holy water. She would heal, Damon had reassured her. It would just take time.

She heard him walking slowly up the stairs—one foot in front of the other across the floor. She felt her body tense with anticipation.

She was laying in bed, a cloud of pillows assisted in propping her up at her back. Her face turned towards the door when Damon came into the room. He held a tray in his hands. And it rattled softly as he walked towards her bed.

"I brought you things to eat… tea…scones."

A small smile formed on Elena's lips.

"How very British," she said softly.

"Shut up," Damon chided quietly, smiling.

He settled the tray across Elena's lap. He lifted the lid of a small jar—clotted cream infused w/ blood. It tinged the cream to a dark pink. He ripped a scone in half a smeared the mixture across the halved piece. He took Elena's hand and placed the pastry into her grasp. He then poured her a cup of Lavender tea in a charming bone china tea cup. He sat on the bed and watched as she brought the scone to her lips.

It was like an explosion to her senses. Sweet. Savory. The cream was the most amazing cream she'd ever tasted. And the fruit scone was outstanding—sprinkled with dates and nuts. Something about eating this with blood made everything almost taste normal. Like she was alive.

"There's blood in this cream," she gasped, turning her face upward, her mouth full.

"Mmhmm," Damon murmured as he leaned forward and wiped a pink spot of cream off the tip of Elena's nose.

"I didn't know you could cook."

"I'm just full of surprises," he said dryly.

"You are…" Elena said lightly, making Damon's heart lurch.

He cleared his throat and took the plate off of the tray as Elena drank her tea. He pushed forward a tiny plate with four square pieces of chocolate. Each was filled blood mixed with various jams. He hand fed each one to Elena, explaining what she was about to eat after each bite. He watched with a quiet pleasure as her features contorted into their vampiric state. Her veins darkened and bulged and he saw that her teeth had extended. She bowed her head, savoring every flavor.

"You're so damn beautiful," he heard himself say. He clamped his mouth shut and watched her face turn towards him with chocolate still on her fingers.

"You think I'm beautiful," she wondered aloud.

"Always have," he murmured. "And not just outside, but your insides too. It's your mind, your spirit. Everything."

Elena said nothing. She glided her fingers over the tray and found her tea cup, drinking the tea slowly. Thinking. She set it down again and folded her hands in her lap.

"You weren't like this…in the beginning," she said cautiously.

Damon lifted the tray off Elena's lap and placed it on the nightstand. He sat down again, his legs dangling off of the bed and turned his torso towards her.

"I know," he said finally.

"That's it?"

"I don't know what you want me to say."

It came back to her in waves. All of the times that Damon belittled her. All of the times he had threatened her. She sat, unmoving, allowing the memories to bubble to the surface.

"Oh, I don't know," she said, suddenly icy, "maybe you could start with an apology?"

"If I apologize, it wouldn't be genuine," he said calmly. "Do you still want it?"

"Okay, this isn't where I thought this conversation was going to go."

"Where do you want it to go?"

"You said you loved me," she blurted out.

Damon ran his hands over his face.

"I know," he said after a pause and turned his body away from her.

"Why?"

"Why what," his voice grew strained.

"Did you say it because it's true or did you say it because you thought I was dead?"

Damon turned back to her suddenly.

"I would never say it unless I meant it," his voice held a dangerous kind of quiet. He turned his back on her again, his arms folded against his chest.

"Isn't this supposed to be the part where we kiss," she asked crestfallenly, her voice breaking.

Damon faced her suddenly, just in time to see a tear slip passed her mask and down her cheek. He softened instantly and reached up cupping her cheek. She pressed her face into his palm like a kitten as his thumb wiped away her tear. He kissed her forehead softly and bent his neck, pressing his forehead against hers.

"When we met," he said finally, "You turned my world upside. And it wasn't because you looked like Katherine. In fact, you were nothing like Katherine. In the past 146 years, I had conditioned myself to enjoying cruelty that it became something of a sport. Because I believed so much that I was living in a kind of hell, it left no room in my heart for kindness. I embraced the cold, dark place where so many vampires go. And then here you were this…human. And you held this fire inside of you. And you scared the hell out of me. A part of me always felt a magnetic pull to you but I just blamed it on blood lust. And when you had cancer, I told myself I was doing it to stick it to Stefan. But in reality…I wanted you. I wanted you to be mine. And the way that you started to look at me? I could tell that you were starting to have feelings for me. God, I just wanted to grab you and keep you safe. But I couldn't. I didn't trust my emotions almost as much as I didn't trust yours. How could I open myself up to you when I thought that you'd run out the door with Stefan if given the chance? I can't apologize because everything happened in the way that it was supposed to. Because if I changed anything different, we might not be here—in this moment. And I might not be sitting here to say that I love you, Elena Gilbert," his other hand slid, cupping the other side of her face. "I love you so much that looking at you fills me with something I never thought I'd feel: Joy. I've loved you for a long time but I just couldn't face it. Because it meant that I wouldn't have to be miserable anymore. Because it meant going somewhere and standing on a ground where I've never stood before. But now that I'm here, I don't know how I could have ever wanted to be anywhere else. I love you so much that it feels like my heart is beating again. Elena, I don't feel cold anymore. And it's because of you."

Elena was crying, nearly bawling as she leaned forward, capturing Damon's lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, his closed eyelids. He kissed her cheeks, the hollow of her neck, the tip of her nose, her mouth. His hands slid between her shoulders and the bed, holding her tightly as he buried his face into her shoulder. They both shut their eyes, clinging to one another, not wanting to let go for fear that the other would disappear.

And they realized—this was what love truly felt like. And it was warm, exhilarating, and beautiful.

Elena reached up to take off her eye mask but Damon's hands beat her to it. He slid if off of her face and kissed her lightly over her lids. Elena took Damon's hands in her own as she slowly opened her eyes.

It was darkness at first. And it struck terror into her breast. Damon felt Elena's body tense and he in turn too tensed. But her shoulders soon relaxed and she blinked slowly, painfully. It was a dark shadow that she first saw. And that dark shadow was Damon.

Her eyes were red, raw. Her eyes were unfocused until they fell onto him. Her fingers moved deftly across his face, tracing her jaw. They slid over him like a paint brush, absorbing every detail. She wanted to memorize everything.

It was his eyes that became clear first. They were blue, piercing and much like beach glass. It was like a camera coming into focus. And there he was, staring down at her with his heart in his eyes. Damon. Her Damon.

"I see you," she whispered so sweetly.

And Damon smiled, relief flooding his senses, and kissed her mouth and made a trail of kisses down her neck and to her chest.

"I see you too," he said. He rested his head in the valley of her breasts and closed his eyes.

"Do you remember when you said that you weren't my Prince Charming," Elena said lazily.

Damon opened his eyes.

"Yes…"

"You were wrong."

Damon looked up, resting his chin on Elena's ribcage.

"Was I," he looked at her strangely, contemplating.

"Yes you were," she whispered.

The look that overtook his features was one that she had never seen before. It was such a warm look of pure delight. He kissed the side of her breast and moved up, claiming her mouth. He nipped at her lower lip and as soon as her mouth parted, his tongue dove inside. He savored her slowly, like a fine wine. His mouth twirled around hers as his hand gripped the side of her neck. He broke the kiss suddenly and looked at Elena with a strong gaze of intensity.

"Marry me," he demanded.

And it was so very like Damon. It wasn't a question, it was an order. And it was a command that she was more than willing to comply with.

"Yes," she said quickly. "Yes, I'll marry you."