Author's note: Wow! Just delighted at the love this story is getting. It's incredibly motivational, so here's the next chapter, sooner than perhaps expected. :D

The entire outline for the rest of the story is complete. Looking at probably 11 chapters, and a total of about 70K words. With that said, it's much easier for me (and for my continued creativity) to focus on only one archive, and for a few reasons, my main place of publication is on AO3, where I have the same username (to further illustrate the point - Eros and Philia has 18 chapters out there versus 6 here), where you'll see this story reach its conclusion sooner. So, if you're eager to get to that faster, I'd recommend reading there, instead. But if you don't mind waiting and prefer to read on FFN, every chapter should be here eventually, too. :) Whatever makes you happier! :D

Thank you all for being utterly delightful! :D


Returning to the place Elena had dubbed 'Hypnogogia' hadn't filled her with despair like it had after her first encounter with past Damon. Instead, she felt energized, hopeful – full of joy and optimism that she'd see him again – that perhaps they'd solve this mystery and find a way out.

And so, as she found herself whisked away from the realm between life and death yet again, only to rematerialize elsewhere, she was quite stunned at the tension that permeated the room. She was at her family's lake house, she immediately realized – wondering if perhaps this was a night during that amazing Summer when she proved that they'd broken the sire bond, and she chose –

The thought lodged in her throat when she caught a glimpse of Damon standing in the corner of the room, clad in his leather jacket. There were Christmas ornaments scattered about, with only some of the decorating completed.

Definitely not Summer, then.

And if she was reading the tightness in Damon's jaw correctly, then she could hazard a guess as to precisely when she appeared.

It was as though he sensed her eyes on him, or perhaps her presence, because his gaze immediately snapped up to hers. She caught the instance of vulnerability, longing, love – before it gave way to shock. "What are you doing here – how!? I thought I told you to go home?"

How did she overcome the sire bond command to go home, he wondered, at once hopeful and afraid. He wouldn't move from his spot, couldn't. Frozen in place, he only allowed his eyes the freedom of motion – to glimpse her, savor her, take her in. The breath left his body slowly, an exhale of pure anguish and relief and trepidation at having her so close.

He had come so close to being happy – truly happy. She finally returned his affections, chose him, loved him – and then …

And then it all came crashing down when reality caught up. Of course, she didn't. Of course, she'd never choose a monster like him. Would never love him, because no one ever would, or could – especially her. Because 'it'll always be –' he felt bile rise in his throat, refusing the finish the sentence, even in his mind.

And now she was bound to him; her free will, taken away.

He knew he had to stay away from her, but he was too weak – too in love. It took everything within him to rip her away from his arms and send her home.

He doubted he'd be able to do it a second time tonight. So, he'd keep his physical distance on the other side of the room. Everything about this situation hurt him down to his very soul.

"I'm afraid I'm not very good at following orders," Elena replied cheekily, letting her head tilt to the side as a playful smile curved her lips. She took him in again – just looking at him felt like the warm glow of a fire after the agonizing frost of the place she dwelt between her visits.

She seemed different than the last time he saw her, Damon surmised. More vivacious, self-assured – happy. And when did she change into a dress?

Elena waited for the merge of consciousness that previously happened in her presence to occur again, fascinated as she saw the physical evidence of change within Damon take place.

He shut his eyes tightly, as images and memories and feelings started to flow into him – Elena in his parlor, telling him about future events, about Enzo, about their life together; kissing in his room, telling him how happy he'd made her, how alive, how whole; the continuous astonishment and elation and awe he felt at her unwavering declarations of love for him.

At least now it all made sense.

When he finally reopened his eyes, he wore a far less surprised look in his face. Instead, he looked like he was in agony.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, repeating the sentiment, although this time he sounded considerably less surprised, and more resigned, like everything suddenly fell into place and a great mystery was solved. Of course. Of course, this was why she claimed to love him.

"And yet, I am," Elena replied matter-of-factly.

Damon turned away instantly, like it hurt to look at her, like the very sight of her – of the love in her gaze –was tearing him apart. A joke. To even think that he'd ever get what he wanted, that he'd ever be loved, especially by her –

He felt like a fool. The last vestige of idealism, of hope, of some vulnerable softness that finally saw safe to rise to the fore again at this Elena's declaration during her last visit – only to be crushed with this agonizing realization.

She was sired to him. None of this was ever real. She never really loved him. He was right to believe that he was unlovable. He was right all along. What an idiot to ever think otherwise, even for a moment.

"You didn't tell me you were sired to me," Damon said without turning around, defeated.

"I'm not – not anymore," she soothed. The despair in his tone cut into her very heart, wounded her soul, just as it did the first time it had, when she actually was sired all those years ago.

"I knew this was too good to be true, but it certainly does explain everything," he barked in caustic laughter, all attempts at carefree joviality failed, leaving him to sound pained and bitter.

"You're not listening to me – we broke the sire bond, Damon," Elena urged, taking a cautious step closer.

"Or the sire bond is telling you to say that, just like it told you to avoid any mention of it to me," he finally turned around to look at her, having collected himself enough to infuse the wryly musical façade into his voice, the forced nonchalance that neither of them believed.

Elena narrowed her eyes, starting to become annoyed with his stubbornness – again. He knew for a fact that that was not how the sire bond worked, didn't he? "Fine, then order me to leave – to never return," she began in a huff, her irritation growing with each step. "Use the sire bond to tell me to…" she trailed off, trying to think of what would make the greatest effect. Narrowing her eyes briefly, she found the perfect idea. Though it would hurt him in the moment, it would have the most effective impact. "Tell me to appear to Stefan instead!"

He reeled back like he'd just been slapped, for a brief instant, the cerulean expanse of his eyes reflecting agony, then he schooled it into acceptance. "If that's what you want," he ground out, hating how his voice caught at the end.

"I thought this wasn't about what I wanted?" she asked, rounding on him shrewdly, pointedly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Since you're so convinced that the sire bond tells me what to want. So do it," she challenged, an echo of yesteryear.

"I want you to leave, Elena, and never appear to me again. I want you to appear …" he swallowed, forcing himself to say the words, "to Stefan."

"You're not done," she said casually, almost in a mockery of cheerfulness. She knew it was mean, but it would make the payoff that much sweeter. "You're supposed to tell me that this is what you want, and that it's what would make me happy."

He felt a grinding in his teeth, in his soul. "This is what I want. This is what would make me happy."

She stood still for several seconds, hoping that this beat would help him absorb the impact of his complete failure to use the sire bond on her. "Liar," she breathed, a gentle smile rising for the occasion of her victory.

"You have to leave, Elena – go be with your Sulky Knight in Self-Righteous Armor, and leave me in peace," he growled, becoming agitated by the hope fighting to instill within him despite his best efforts to keep it at bay. He couldn't take any more heartbreak – not like this, not tonight.

Not with her.

"No," Elena said firmly, practically reveling in the word, tasting its power on her tongue as she watched with distinct pleasure the shocking effect it had on Damon. He stayed quiet for several long seconds, trying to wrap his mind around the unexpected turn of events, before she stepped forward – boldly, unapologetically, as she had on the night of her graduation – a night this Damon had yet to experience.

"I'm not sorry that I met you."

"I said no," she repeated. "I refuse your order and I refuse your command. So, take that!" she added with a cheeky, flirtatious smile.

"I'm not sorry that knowing you has made me question everything."

"Want to try again?" she dared him. "Tell me to leave, tell me to run away, stop loving you – and my answer to all those will be an unequivocal 'nope!' Elena, one; sire bond, zero."

He just stared at her, his mind trying to come to terms with it all.

"Are we done now? Are we done playing this silly game? Do you finally believe me?"

"That in death, you're the one who made me feel most alive."

It was as though all the anguish and despair left his body with a single breath, as he pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry. I just –"

"I know, Damon," Elena soothed, closing her eyes to savor the closeness she never stopped craving. "I know." Whole seconds passed of them as the shared air mingled, danced, whispered the secrets deep in their hearts.

"I'm not sorry that I'm in love with you."

"But you're wrong," she said forcefully, boldly, as her eyes snapped open and she pulled away to look at him, urging him to face her a though will alone. "You deserve every bit of love I have for you – and more. You're worthy of all the love of the word, and I'll keep proving it to you," she insisted, knowing him well enough to deduce the precise source of his quick willingness to believe everyone but her about the validity of her feelings during this period.

Elena recalled that it wasn't until they got together officially – when she fully committed to her choice – that Damon pulled away, leaving her in a whirlwind of confusion. The Damon who urged her to admit her feelings suddenly seemed to disappear, giving way to one who insisted that he was bad for her and that she'd be better off without him. At the time, she was profoundly confused, but as time passed, she dug into the potential causes, investigating them – and the answer quite suddenly became clear.

Even while he chased her, believing her to be unattainable – 'his brother's girl' – he'd given her the clue, albeit it came in the form of a heartfelt confession that he compelled away.

Even then, he said that he didn't deserve her.

She'd have to prove him wrong.

Elena let one of her hands settle on his cheek, while the other took his, bringing it to her heart. She smiled at him, the love she felt reflecting in her eyes. "I'll ask again," she said. "Does this feel wrong?"

Her smile widened as she recalled her anguish when she asked this last, lost in the throes of encroaching despair as all her friends unwittingly gaslit her, telling her over and over again what a bad vampire she was, how she needed the Cure, how she didn't know her own feelings.

And yet, she'd never been more sure of her own mind. She'd never until then felt so alive as when she and Damon danced after her transition.

He placed his hand over the one she had on his cheek, his own reaction worlds away from what he felt mere hours ago, from his perspective, a genuine smile finally breaking through. "It feels perfect."

"Good," she said, allowing a shaky exhale in relief.

"It's really broken?" he asked, achingly hopeful, to her assertive nod. "How?" he asked, turning his head slightly to kiss the pulse point of the palm on his cheek.

The shiver she felt at the contact swallowed the forthcoming wince at telling a less part of the story, so she pivoted to a slightly less angsty version. "Turns out that turning off my humanity does the trick." She saw the question in his eyes and pressed on. "The sire bond forms from love. You don't know this yet," she said, interrupting the flow of her sentence to allow her lips to meet his for a soft kiss. She knew he needed it. "But the sire bond only exists because I was already in love with you when I turned."

Now he looked utterly bewildered, and Elena utterly failed to stifle a laugh at his reaction. "You loved me as a human?"

"Uh-huh," she hummed, closing her eyes to let the memory wash over her – still feeling grateful and utterly whole to have this vital moment back. "It was when you gave me my necklace back for my birthday – even though it hurt you – all you cared about was my happiness. You were so selfless that any resistance I'd still manage to put up against my feelings for you overwhelming me was snapped. It was like being swept up in a current – I was consumed by it – and all I knew how to feel for you after that was love," she breathed, finally opening her eyes to take in the dreamy expression in his. "Not the first time you did it, mind you. Maybe if you didn't compel a certain memory away, I'd have fallen for you even sooner," she teased.

"Could have fooled me," he grinned, finally wrapping his arms around her, the tension leaving his body like great wisps of smoke from an active volcano. "I thought nothing was going to shake your raging lady-boner for self-flagellating brooders."

"I don't know, Damon," Elena teased wickedly, knowing exactly what she was doing. "You were self-flagellating pretty hard when I first got here. Made me so hot," whispered sultrily into his ear, pulling back with a wink. "All you need to do is up that frown line count, and I'll practically be handing you your Hero Hair badge."

"You take that back!" he shot back, aghast to her musical laugh, melting any restraints he held against his heart into mere puddles, stealthily flowing into every crevice, screaming of his undying love for her. "I'll show you Hero Hair," he growled, seizing her lips with his in a kiss that rivaled any they'd previously had in intensity. Immediately, her laughter morphed into soft moans, as she let herself be walked backward, pressed into a wall. He tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss, as his hands roamed everywhere. Hers immediately reached for his shirt, prompting him to pull back with a chuckle. "Going for three? Four if you count yesterday, though you weren't – you - yet."

"I'm starting to find your need to wear buttons personally offensive," she breathed, sending the garment accessories flying to scatter on the floor below them.

"What else on me do you find offensive, E-le-na?" he purred, pressing himself so firmly against her that she had to stifle a gasp of need.

"Everything," she growled, reaching for his belt. "Just stop wearing clothes," she said lightly. "Do you think that's the pattern? I arrive when you need to get laid?"

"It's when I need you most," he said softly, and with utmost confidence, cupping her face with both hands. Elena stifled a gasp as in a fraction of a second, his gaze shifted from lustful to openly warm, vulnerable, loving. "You show up when I need you so much that I can barely breathe."

"To keep you from fully embracing self-flagellation, Hero Hair, and a perpetually brooding expression?" Elena asked with a mischievous grin.

"There can only be one, Elena, and I'm not taking that away from baby bro," he said sincerely, then leaned in for a conspiratorial whisper. "The forest animals might actually stage a revolt if their tormentor's replaced by someone as dashing as me."

"There'd be no forest animals left!" Elena gasped in mock-innocence. "They'd all be too busy surrendering after falling in love with you."

"Exactly! I'm glad someone finally gets it," he concurred.

"Good on Stefan for taking on that burden," Elena smirked.

"Yeah, good for Saint Steffie, keeping our ecosystem alive by chasing the woodland creatures away with his self-righteous speeches," he breathed, pressing a string of kisses down her neck while his hand slid up her inner thigh.

Elena's breathing became erratic, her hands annoyingly refusing to cooperate as she struggled with his belt.

In fact, they were so wrapped up in each other and their attempt at a tryst at last that neither noticed a third figure walk into the room.

"Damon, who are you talking to?" asked a decidedly sleepy Jeremy, a bit annoyed at having been woken up by the noise downstairs.

"You have got to be kidding me –" Damon groaned.

"Not again –" Elena whined, letting her head rest on Damon's shoulder in frustration, before realizing that her brother walked into the room. She quickly straightened her dress and pasted a winningly innocent smile on her face. "Hi Jer!" she chirped in forced excitement.

But Jeremy didn't even so much as glance at her direction. Instead, he just leveled a bewildered stare at Damon. "And why is your shirt ripped? You okay, man?"

"Seriously?" Damon asked, gesturing to Elena. "Do you really have to ask, Captain Bad Timing?"

Jeremy just looked confused for a second before a grin snuck up his face. "Looking a bit flushed there, Damon. What, did I interrupt a session with your hand? It likes a bit of role-play first?"

"He can't see me," Elena breathed, the wind knocked out of her at the realization. "Or hear me," she frowned. She boldly took a step forward, trying to poke Jeremy in the shoulder, but her hand passed right through him. "Or feel me. I can only touch inanimate objects or you, Damon," she deduced. "Or maybe I can only touch vampires?" This would need further investigation.

"Don't project your sad little wet dreams onto me, Little Gilbert. All my hand's concerned with is getting some rest after all the face-palming I did watching you train today," Damon drawled flippantly. "I didn't even know those muscles could hurt," he mock-pouted.

"Dick," Jeremy smirked. "I'm going back to bed," he announced, before slowly lumbering back upstairs.

After Jeremy left, Elena turned to Damon, her mind a whirl. "One of the patterns is that I always seem to visit you at night."

"That first time you came – on the night of Miss Mystic Falls – the you from this time period woke up immediately afterward," he said, frowning. "I think she has to be asleep for you to be here."

Elena nodded, slowly walking toward the couch to take a much-needed seat. "Did she – I – say anything to you?"

"Just that she had this dream – about this wide-open field – that she'd never felt so alone, so cold," he said, taking a seat next to her and pulling her hands onto his lap.

"We switch places," Elena breathed. "Mentally, at least, we switch places. She goes," she shivered. "There."

"We're going to figure this out," he said, squeezing her hands in reassurance. "I'll get you out of there. I promise you."

She allowed a ghost of a smile, not sure if this is one he'd be able to keep, before she remembered that he never broke a promise – not even the one he gave her before he was whisked away to a prison world with Bonnie; it was only delayed. "I love you," she breathed, feeling like it had been entirely too long since she said it.

"I love you, too," he smiled, pulling her onto his lap to press another kiss to her lips.

They stayed in that position for several whole moments, Elena's head resting on Damon's chest as he wrapped her tightly in his arms, his face buried in her hair as both attempted to think through this curious dilemma, while savoring the ability to just be together – taking solace in the warmth of each other's bodies, each other's presence.

"What happened to the notebook I wrote in?" Elena asked, her voice muffled from being pressed into him.

"Blank," he noted in disappointment. "The pen just rolled under the desk again. Rose did accuse me of sleepwalking and talking to myself a few days later. Now I know why," he mused wryly.

"There has to be a way to leave you a message," Elena groaned in frustration. "What if you write one?"

"Way ahead of you!" he answered with a grin, taking care to lift her off his lap and gently place her on the couch. He found some stationary in one of the cupboards before walking back to her. "Where did you say Enzo was kept?"

"The basement of Whitmore Hall, why?" she queried, confused, before her eyes widened in epiphany. "Are we –?'

"Yep," he interrupted, a bit too quickly, his voice clipped from trying to keep the images away as flashbacks of scalpels, acid, electric jolts assaulted him just at the mention of that word – Whitmore. As it was, he barely kept it together when he brought Elena and Bonnie to a party there when he taught the newly-transitioned vampire to safely feed. But back then, he was convinced that he eradicated the last of the Augustines. To know that they're back …

He swallowed the lump in his throat before asking, almost afraid of the answer. "How do you know?"

She bit her lip, unable to meet his eyes, afraid of his reaction. "We were there once. Briefly. They caught us."

"What?" he gasped in horror, rushing at superhuman speed to get to her, to gingerly cup her face, willing her to face him. "Oh, Elena, no. Please tell me they didn't – not to you. Tell me they didn't." Elena falling into Augustine hands might be his actual worst nightmare.

She squeezed the hands on her cheeks soothingly. "It was only for a little while, and it wasn't anything like what you went through, I promise."

"Did they hurt you?" he persisted, unable to let go.

"Not really. They just injected us both with a ripper virus, and we were quickly cured," she reassured, skipping over some of the more painful details.

"Good," he breathed a sigh of relief, closing his eyes to release the tension before he registered her words. He opened one eye experimentally, then the other. "How much do you know exactly?"

"Everything," she said. When he looked at her dubiously, she pressed on. "When we were caught, I asked you how you escaped, so you told me your story. I know about Enzo, New Year's Eve, the Whitmores – everything."

He pulled away, feeling ice strike straight into his veins. How could she even look at him? Making to remove his hands, he was surprised that she kept them there, squeezing them in a firm grip.

"Damon, no," she insisted. "Don't push me away. I'm not judging you. I have no right to judge you after what you went through – I know that's not what you want to hear," she continued when she saw he was about to interrupt. "But it's true. When I found out last time, you tried to pull away, but I won't let you pull that this time. I'm here, I love you – we'll get through this together."

Refusing to meet her eyes, he finally pulled his hands free, to step away and write the note. "We'll talk about this when we come back," he said, relatively sure that she'd be gone by then, anyway. He just had to make sure that they got to Enzo first. If their past two meetings were anything to go by, all his memories if this interaction would be gone the instant the Elena from his time woke up.

"You're being very annoying," Elena complained, standing up to join him.

"And you're staying in the car when I rescue him," he countered.

"What!? But –"

"No buts. I won't let them capture you again," he insisted. "It sounds like you got very lucky last time. They're not getting their hands on you."

"They can't see, hear, or touch me, Damon!" she growled. "I'm the perfect asset to this little mission."

"You don't know what they're capable of, Elena! By now, their technology might be advanced enough to notice and catch you. I'm not risking you," he pleaded.

"Fine," she deflated, seeing the desperation in his eyes. She could always just sneak in after him to make sure he was okay, that he wasn't caught either.

As they made their way to Damon's Camaro, Elena gingerly took his hand and stopped, refusing to move until he was forced to do the same. "Will you please look at me?"

"How much do you know about my past exactly?" he finally spoke, so quietly, after a brief period of silence.

"Probably not nearly enough," she said honestly. "You're not very forthcoming. I doubt you ever planned to tell me about the Augustine Society, and maybe you never would have if we hadn't gotten caught," she reasoned, walking around to face him, feeling the slightest tremors of a victory when he finally met her gaze. He didn't deny her claim, just as she knew he wouldn't. "But I know something must have happened to make you believe that you aren't deserving of love." He looked away again, unwilling to pursue this line of conversation, and Elena pulled away with a sigh. She wouldn't push him more tonight. It was too much, too soon.

Instead, she wrapped his hand in both of hers and led them to the car.

Once they were on the road, she noticed that Damon grew quiet, pensive. The only sign of him acknowledging her presence were the occasional caresses of her palm with his thumb in their joined hands.

"What did you write in the note?" Elena asked, no longer able to contain her curiosity.

"Went to free Enzo from the basement of Whitmore Hall. Send reinforcements if I'm not back. Save Elena from being placed under the sleeping beauty spell by Kai, or whatever the fuck his name was," he answered tonelessly, but Elena knew him better to assume that he was dispassionate. He was overwhelmed, not the least of which was her knowing about what he felt was a shameful part of his past. She wisely chose to withhold that she knew a lot more about him than he realized – like his visit to Mystic Falls in 1994. It wasn't time for that yet.

She nodded. "How long until we get to Whitmore?"

"An hour and a half, give or take," he answered.

The tone in the car was silent, tense. Elena felt herself wilting under the self-admonition which she was certain he was feeling.

"I love you," she breathed, cried, the heartbreak in her voice apparent.

His head shot up, feeling each painful note in her tone. He squeezed her hand. "I love you, too, Elena. It's –" Not your fault, not you, he wanted to say. "I – I'm –"

"You're not bad for me, Damon," she cried, exasperated at almost having to hear those words again. "You saved me. You made me better. We make each other better."

She leaned back, frustrated. Sire bond and post-Augustine nightmare all in one. At least they were attacking all of Damon's insecurities in one fell swoop. She hoped.

"I just need some time," he finally admitted. "This – you have to understand what a huge change this is for me. I need time to wrap my mind around it."

She nodded vigorously; her breath shaky with relief. "Yeah – yeah, I get that. I can understand that, Damon."

"Thank you," he said, the first genuine smile on his face in what felt like ages as he made eye contact with her, prompting her to smile in return. He looked so beautiful when he dropped his mask, Elena mused in wonder.

"We'll rescue Enzo, and then my main priority will be to make you understand just how much I love you," she purred, leaning over to rest against his side.

He wrapped an arm around her and dropped a kiss to the crown of her head, unable to fight the curve of his lips. Everything about this moment felt so perfect, soothing, it was almost surreal. "Not if I show you first."

She laughed, leaning up to kiss him, when she noticed that in all the excitement, he never changed his shirt. "You can always pretend to be an escort to sneak in," she teased, running her hands over the expanse of his chest.

"Trying to make driving with you in the car an extreme sport, Elena?" he asked with a sultry lilt to his tone, pulling her closer, sneaking a hand under her dress.

"You never seemed to mind the excitement before," she whispered in his ear, as she reached for his belt again, only to be dismayed that her hand passed right through. "No!" she cried as she pulled away. "Not yet!"

Suddenly, the playfully sexy mood shifted to abject horror and disappointment as Damon could no longer feel Elena next to him. He pulled over, desperately feeling for her, but she was no longer corporeal. She and any memory of her would be gone in moments – he would forget why he was on the road – unsure if he would ever see her again.

"I'll see you again, Damon," she said with considerably more confidence than she felt, as though reading his mind.

"I love you so much, baby," he soothed, caressed with his voice. Elena may have thought that she sounded assured, but he knew her better. He caught every tremor, every ounce of fear and sadness in her tone. "You're the most important person in the world to me. I didn't know what love was until I met you. You'll make it back to me."

She nodded, feeling tears flood her eyes, as she disappeared before his.

Mere moments later, Damon was surprised to find himself in his car, pulled over by the side of the road. His shirt was ripped open and he felt – he felt profoundly like something was missing.

Of course, he did. Happiness was finally within reach, only for him to find out that Elena was sired to him. He must have hit the bourbon extra hard last night and gone out for a late-night drive.

As he walked through the door, a strong gust of wind blew in, whisking a piece of paper on the desk of the lake house living room out of sight before he even noticed its presence. The buttons that lay scattered on the floor trembled with magic, unnoticeable to a vampire's not quite attuned ability. As he slept, the buttons on his shirt reformed, bewildering him further when he awoke, convincing him that even this was a dream.

He'd had so many strange dreams lately.

On the nightstand, his phone waited with several voicemails from Elena. His heart seized, caught in a vice. Against his better judgment, he pressed 'play' and allowed himself to indulge in the pleasure of hearing her voice.

"Damon," she breathed longingly in the recording on his phone. "I miss you. I had that awful dream again – the one with the open field, where I'm all alone, surrounded by nothing…"


Soooo, the paper flew away. Is Damon's handwriting still on it? We'll find out eventually. :D

The button-down took longer to reform this time because it was physical separated from its buttons! Or was it just because the Specter's growing increasingly stronger? :D

Jeremy and his perpetual need to walk in on Damon and Elena making out! :D

With a story called "Random Walk," you can expect all the chapters to have Math-y/Physics-y titles.

I really love associating fire imagery with Damon and water imagery with Elena. I even made them a Fire Witch and a Water Witch in Serendipity! :D

Much love to everyone! Here's to happiness, health, love! :D