When the show is over, we find a place in the park to camp out. Once again, he surprises me by having everything we need, including a tent, sleeping bags, and even bug spray. Thoughtful of him. I doubt he even attracts mosquitos.

I spend the whole time setting up thinking about how hungry he must be and how we're going to get him some blood. I don't want to condone him finding some unsuspecting camper or pedestrian for his next meal, but I feel so guilty, like he hasn't been eating because of me. He's never fought his nature this much in the past. He's always been willing to put aside my disapproval and do what needs to be done. I wonder why it's changed now.

He snaps me out of my thoughts when he asks me to check out the setup and make sure I'll be comfortable. I try to give him an answer about the tent and how great it all is, but I just can't let this go. I look away from the campsite and move closer to him, trying to gauge his mood. He's hiding everything so well.

"Damon, I wish you wouldn't have hidden your hunger from me," I start. "Let me help you. There has to be something I can do."

"Like what, Elena?" His voice is harsh. It's obvious he can't stop thinking about it either. "How can you help me? Do you expect me to drink from you? Or do you want to help me track down a wayward hiker and let me feed off of them? What do you suggest?" He's more on edge than I've seen him in a while.

I step towards him, hoping to quiet the moment, not wanting this to turn into an argument. I speak softly, "Damon, what's changed? You've never had a problem finding some innocent person to feed from in the past. You've never even considered another person's feelings when it comes to the hunt. Why would you? It's a part of your nature." I reach out and lightly touch his arm. I want him to know that I don't blame him for the way he is. I don't like it, but I know that it is what it is. "But why now? In the past you wouldn't have thought about how I felt, you would have already fed by now."

"A lot has changed, Elena. Everything has changed," he spreads his arms as if to display the vastness of it all. "My brother has become the thing you hate the most. The hunter. The killer. The thing I've always been known as. And I've been watching that tear you apart. Knowing you can never feel the same way about him. So what am I supposed to do? Be another version of that? I don't think so. If I'm all you have left, I'm going to be a good one." I believe his words, but I can clearly see that it's not easy for him. He's never been the good guy, never been the one to make the sacrifice for others. He's probably never been asked to by anyone but me.

I don't remember ever saying out loud that I was moving on from Stefan, but I guess agreeing to this trip said it well enough.

"Damon, you know that I hate the vampire nature. I hate that people I love feel the need to kill and hunt and feed. I hate it with every part of me. But you know that I care about you. I know who you are at the end of the day, and I don't want you to hide any part of it from me. I don't want you to be reckless, but I don't want you to weaken yourself for my sake. And even though stealing blood bags from the hospital doesn't involve directly causing someone physical pain, it's still immoral. It's still wrong. You have to eat one way or another.

"It's not my place to give you permission or to tell you what to do, but I want you to know that if you need to find someone and feed from them-and not kill them, and leave them as unharmed as possible-I want you to do that. I want you to be healthy, and I don't want you to be on edge because you think you're protecting me."

I take the last step to close the distance between us and reach out to touch his cheek. The trip has been excitement and adventure so far, but all of this reminds me why I'm here. To know him.

He looks down at me, and the struggle is so present, so evident in his eyes that it kills me. I know I've always asked him, directly or indirectly, to deny himself for me, and I've never realized how selfish I was and how generous he's been. I close the small space between us and wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him close. "I'm so sorry, Damon," I whisper, resting my head on his shoulder, holding on to him. "I'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't good enough. For asking you to change yourself."

He pulls away and looks at me, holding my shoulders. "Hey," he says softly. "No more of this. I thought we were getting a fresh start. Who we were, what we've done, it's all over. We're friends, getting to know each other. I happen to be a handsome supernatural stud, and you are my lovely companion. Let's forget all the drama and just keep moving on, huh?"

I sigh, letting the worry and guilt come off my shoulders. "You're right. Let's get some sleep. You can eat in the morning and we can keep moving," I smile. "I'm excited to see what city you're taking me to next."

"Oh you're in for a treat. Tomorrow we head South some more. I hope you brought your bathing suits like I told you." He pauses, raising an eyebrow at me, unashamedly excited at the idea of me wearing less clothing. "If not, I'd be happy to help you pick out a new one."

I laugh as I push him away. He's such a pig sometimes. A pig that I am incredibly grateful for. From the day my old life disappeared off the side of Wickery Bridge, I've had to actually consciously remind myself to have fun and let go. Damon reminds me with every crooked smirk and wiggled eyebrow, and I can't help but be happy with him.