Secret Santa (PART 3)
PART 3
Chapter 6: A Delena Christmas Carol
Prompt #6 (by 123nenagirl): "Damon Salvatore hates Christmas. He's about to spend a lonely Christmas Eve when his mother's ghost suddenly appears beside his bed. She yells at him to stop pitying himself and to do something nice for the people that are less fortunate out in the world. Damon is shaken after seeing his mother's ghost. He goes out in the cold streets and finds a hobo (Elena) of course...He decides to take her home and give her the gift of having a perfect Christmas..."
A DELENA CHRISTMAS CAROL
"Well?" Damon Salvatore snapped, looking up as his assistant nervously knocked on his office door. "Don't just stand there! What do you want?"
Matt Donovan shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, before venturing timidly, "I, ah, was just wondering if tomorrow I could possibly...er, have the day off?"
Damon let the stack of files he was sorting through fall from his hands, and they landed on the desk in front of him with a loud thud. "Why," he demanded, "Would you need the day off?"
"It's..." Matt swallowed visibly, "See, tomorrow is Christmas Day...and my mom is actually planning on visiting this year...and my sister finally got her life together and she's-"
"Did I ask for your life story?"
"No," Matt bowed his head, "Of course not, sir. I apologize."
Damon sighed, waving him off in annoyance, "Just leave. Go ahead and take the day off tomorrow. I have no doubt the union would come after me if I didn't give you at least one paid holiday."
Matt's eyes lit up, "Paid holiday? Oh, thank you so much Mr. Salvatore! You have no idea how much this means to me..." He stopped himself as Damon shot him a warning look, "Right, I'm leaving right now. Merry Christmas Eve, sir."
"Whatever," Damon muttered under his breath, glaring as Matt excitedly gathered his things and nearly skipped out of the office. As he opened the door to leave, he turned around and waved goodbye. The door unfortunately didn't close fully behind him, stopping ajar and sending the sounds of caroling children filtering through the room.
This was simply unacceptable.
Damon gritted his teeth, slamming his bottle of whiskey back onto the table as he strode to the door to close it properly. However, someone pulled the door open at that moment and stepped into his office, grinning broadly. "Hello brother," Stefan greeted, shaking snow out of his hair. "It's really coming down hard out there, isn't it?"
"I wouldn't know," Damon answered grumpily, stomping back to his desk and flinging himself into his chair. "What are you doing here?"
Stefan settled himself into the chair across from him, giving his brother an amicable smile. "Oh come on now, Damon. You know why I'm here."
"Actually, I haven't the faintest clue."
"You haven't responded to our dinner invitation for tomorrow," Stefan began wheedling, "Caroline would really love it if you came...she's been cooking up a feast all day."
"Yeah," Damon pretended to arrange some papers, "I don't think so."
"But-"
"I have too much work, Stefan. I won't be able to make it."
"You're always working," Stefan stood up and heaved a sigh, "Christmas is a time to spend with family, Damon. We want you to join us. Won't you change your mind?"
"Goodbye Stefan," Damon said with finality, "I'm sure you can let yourself out."
"Fine," Stefan sent him one last disappointed look, "Have a good Christmas, brother."
When the clock neared 8PM, Damon begrudgingly put all his files away. He glanced out the window as he pulled on his woolen coat, scowling at the snow flakes falling from the sky. He hated everything about the winter season, starting with the bitter cold and ending with the overzealous fake cheer commercialized by Hallmark. It was all a ruse, and a costly one at that. Muttering to himself, he angrily locked up his office and stepped onto the sidewalk-only to be accosted by two more unwelcome guests.
"Mr. Salvatore!" Alaric Saltzman greeted, his breath releasing into the air with a small puff. He rubbed his hands together, "It's damn cold, isn't it?"
"Yes, which is why I'm on my way home," Damon replied curtly, "Where my fireplace and alcohol will keep me warm for the night."
"I don't believe you've met my new business partner?" Alaric plowed on, either not noticing or not caring about Damon's obvious attempts to sidestep a conversation. "This is Elijah. He works at the diner with me now. He's already done so much for the business, I don't know how I ever got along without him!"
"How nice," Damon responded indifferently, "Well, I really must be going-"
Elijah interrupted him smoothly, "Yes, business has been doing so well that the two of us have decided to host a charity dinner for the homeless tomorrow night. After all, it's Christmas...the perfect time to give back to the community, isn't it?"
Damon narrowed his eyes and sneered, "Well, if that's how you want to spend your time, far be it for me to stop you. Goodbye gentlemen."
"Wait," Alaric called to Damon's retreating back, "Wouldn't you like to donate any money for the dinner?"
He didn't even break his pace, laughing derisively as he continued down the street, "Hell no."
Elijah raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at Alaric, "Would you look at that? It's Ebenezer Scrooge back from the dead."
Alaric shook his head, "Think he's some kind of zombie?"
"Probably more like a vampire," Elijah clapped Alaric's shoulder, "Come on, I'm sure we'll have better luck on the next street over."
Damon let himself into his house, shivering slightly in the cold silence. He didn't bother turning on the lights in the hallway and instead went straight to the fireplace. Once he had gotten the fire going, he made his way into the kitchen to find something to eat.
As he passed through the hallway, he happened to glance at the phone that he never used. To his surprise, the answering machine blinked "1" indicating that he actually had a new message. He curiously pressed the button, only to scowl when his sister-in-law's overly vibrant voice began scolding him. "Really, Damon," Caroline snapped, "Every year you make up some excuse about skipping Christmas dinner, and every year Stefan invites you anyway! You keep ignoring him like this, then maybe one year he'll just stop trying. See how much you like that!" BEEP.
Damon, who had stopped listening as soon as Caroline began speaking, returned to the hallway only to delete the message. He held a glass of scotch in one hand, and case files he had brought home from work in his other hand. He settled himself in the armchair in front of the fireplace and began reviewing his files, getting up only occasionally to refill his glass with more alcohol.
.
He jumped, startled, as he heard the grandfather clock loudly signal that it was midnight. He looked around in confusion, noticing that his files had all fallen to the ground. Not bothering to pick them up, Damon stood up to put out the fire and head to bed. As soon as he got to his feet, however, he swayed and ungainly fell back into the armchair. "Okay Salvatore," he grumbled to himself, "You didn't even have that much to drink. Suck it up."
Truthfully, he had no idea how much he'd had to drink, but he eventually managed to stumble his way back to his room and collapse onto his bed in exhaustion. But just as he'd closed his eyes to succumb to the blissful numbness spreading through his body, he heard the sound of something metal screeching as it was dragged along the floor. His eyes flew back open and he stared at the ceiling for a second, wondering if he was dreaming.
"DAMON SALVATORE."
Now he was going crazy. Maybe he did have too much drink, after all.
"WAKE UP, MY SON."
His mother's voice. Strange, he hadn't dreamt about her in many years. Perhaps it was the visit with Stefan that had triggered the long-lost memory. Damn his brother.
"ARE YOU GOING TO GET UP, OR DO I NEED TO GET A BUCKET OF COLD WATER?"
Damon immediately sat up, clutching his sheets to his pounding chest. Sure, he might be drunk, but he sure as hell wasn't crazy enough to imagine this. "Hello?" he called out tentatively, "Is anyone t-there?"
"No one besides you and me, is there?" Camilla Salvatore snapped as she appeared before him. "No girlfriend, no wife," she shook her head in disappointment, "Where did we go wrong with you?"
"Wh-what?" Damon stammered, staring the ghost of his mother, "Is this a dream?"
"No," she crossed her arms, the chains clinking together as she glared at him, "This is, unfortunately, not a dream."
"But," he protested weakly, "You're dead."
"Astute observation, Damon," his mother responded briskly, "Glad to see you've inherited your father's genes in the intelligence area."
Damon looked around almost fearfully, "Is dad here too?"
"No," Camilla scoffed, "He was able to find his redemption before he died. I, however, did not." She tilted her head, studying him, "This is my chance, see? To help you, and to help myself."
"I'm dreaming," Damon whispered, "I had too much to drink and now I'm having hallucinations."
His mother placed one hand on her hip, "What will it take to convince you that I'm really here?" Damon shook his head, at a loss for words. "When you were little, your father treated you and Stefan like servants. He didn't spend a dime unless it was strictly necessary. In the winters we would all huddle by the fireplace, wrapped in blankets. When I died-"
"He changed," Damon said numbly, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
Camilla nodded, her expression softening. "Yes, he changed. He became compassionate and generous, he started giving back to the people who had put up with him over the years." She sighed, "I only wish that I would've been there to see it." She moved her arms then, and the chains dragged across the floor again. "As it is, I didn't change my attitude while I was alive, and now I am paying the price." Her face was sorrowful, "And now I see you making the same mistakes that your father and I did, Damon."
He slowly got out of bed, inching closer to his mother. "The chains?" he asked, his voice cracking, "What is that?"
"My sins...everything that I've done," she placed a hand on his shoulder, "I don't want this kind of afterlife for you, Damon. Your chains are even longer than mine right now..." Camilla trailed off as he met her gaze, "But you can change that. At this very moment, at this time and place, you can change your fate. Don't you see? You have your chance for redemption, as do I."
Damon closed his eyes, willing himself to wake up. When he opened his eyes, however, nothing had changed. "Okay," he said to his mother resignedly, "What do you want me to do?"
He walked through the streets, keeping his head down as the snow and wind billowed around him. Other than a few celebrating teenagers, the streets were largely empty. Damon made a left onto the main street, where there were more shops. His glance fell briefly on Ric's diner, which was shut down for the night, and he hesitated. Maybe he could leave a donation for the charity dinner and that would end this whole nightmare?
Damon crossed the street, intending on slipping a check under the door. Just as he was rummaging through his coat for his checkbook, however, he heard a commotion coming from the bar on the other side of the street. He turned around to see the bar owner, Mason Lockwood, roughly shove someone out the door.
"Get out and stay out!" he roared, "We don't need filth like you in my establishment!" The person fell to the sidewalk and began crawling, slipping several times on the ice. Damon took half a step towards them, but then Mason shouted again, "Hurry up and get out of here before you drive away my business!" The bar door slammed shut, and the person on the sidewalk ceased moving, seeming to give up completely.
"Hey," Damon called, hurriedly crossing the street and hovering above the person, "Are you alright?" He nudged the person with his shoe, but there was still no response. Muttering an oath and raising his eyes to the heavens (his mother better be watching this!), Damon knelt to the ground and hesitantly pulled at the torn blanket that the person was wrapped in. As it fell away, it revealed the ragged brunette curls of a young girl. Damon stared at her for a minute, examining the smudges on her face and her thin frame which was barely covered in oversized clothing. "Are you okay?" he repeated, this time raising his voice so she could hear him. "Do you need help?"
The girl opened her eyes slowly, and he was struck by how defeated she looked. "No," she whispered, "I don't need anything."
"Don't be ridiculous," Damon didn't move, "Are you lost? What's your name?"
She blinked a couple times before licking her dry lips and answering, "Elena. My name is Elena...and no, I'm not lost." She looked away from him, "I just have nowhere to go."
Damon groaned inwardly. What was he supposed to do with a homeless girl? He got to his feet, trying to think. "Well you certainly can't stay out here all night," he said to her as she struggled to stand up, "Is there a homeless shelter I can take you to? You shouldn't be lying here in the streets by yourself."
"No, sir," Elena tightened the blanket around herself, beginning to shiver violently. "Your kind words have been a gift enough. Thank you."
He watched as she began walking away, her body huddled against the howling wind. "Wait!" Damon called, running after her. She gasped a little when he grabbed her shoulder, and she shrunk back in fear immediately. Damon let go of her, raising his hands to show that he meant no harm. "I won't hurt you," he said to her quickly, because she still looked scared. "But I think I can help you."
"You don't have to do this," Elena said through chattering teeth as she stood in the hallway of his house, "I cannot give you anything in return."
"I couldn't leave you out there in the blizzard," Damon said stiffly, leading her to the living room and motioning for her to sit in front of the fireplace. "You'll feel warmer in no time," he said, backing away to let her enjoy the heat. "I'll go see if I can find some food in the kitchen."
She didn't answer him, and Damon paused at the threshold to look back at her. Elena had scooted as close to the fireplace as she could, her hands spread outwards towards the flames. In the light, he could distinctly see the blue tinge around her lips and the way that her body still seemed to be trembling. For the first time in many years, Damon strode into the hallway and turned to his thermostat, cranking up the heater.
.
He returned to the living room ten minutes later, holding a tray of whatever he could find in the kitchen (which was, admittedly, not much). "Sorry," he said to Elena as he sat down across from her on the carpet and pushed the tray towards her, "I'm more of an alcohol-type guy, so I don't keep that much food in the house. I can order something for you if..." He trailed off as Elena's eyes lit up, unadulterated joy filling her expression.
She reached hesitantly for the grapes, looking frequently up at Damon as though she was afraid that he would stop her. He frowned and got up to leave the room, getting the feeling that she would be more comfortable eating without anyone looking on. However, he stood in the hallway for a few minutes, where he could watch her without detection. Elena looked around once to make sure he was gone before she reached forward to devour the food, eating everything within her reach eagerly.
Damon felt something pull at his heart, and he quickly turned away. He made his way to the kitchen where he began taking out the ingredients to make hot chocolate. He pulled two mugs from the cabinet and set a pot of milk to heat on the stove (another appliance that he hadn't used in many years). He was waiting for it to boil when he heard a small sound behind him. He turned around to see Elena standing there, holding out the tray with trembling hands. "Th-thank you for the food," she whispered to him as he reached out to take the tray from her. She wiped a hand over her mouth and then looked down at the ground, "I should probably go now."
"Elena, wait," he grabbed her wrist, but let go when he saw the expression on her face. He moved away from her and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. "Please," he gestured to her, "Sit. The hot chocolate is almost done."
She didn't move, her eyes darting around the kitchen almost nervously, "I sh-should really get going."
"Oh come on," Damon methodically mixed the hot chocolate into the mugs, "It's the kind with marshmallows..." He glanced behind him once, satisfied to see that she looked tempted. Elena slowly sat down in the chair, her hands immediately wrapping around the mug that he set in front of her. "Is it good?" he asked when she raised it to her lips and took a sip, "It's been a while since I've made it...I might be a little rusty."
"It's good," Elena gave him a tiny smile, "Thank you."
"So," Damon said after a few minutes, taking a seat across from her at the table, "What's your story?"
She immediately tensed, putting the mug down, "I don't want to talk about it."
"Okay," he nodded, trying to keep her calm, "That's okay. We don't have to talk about it." He placed both their mugs in the dishwasher and then pulled her chair back so that she could stand up. "Come on upstairs," he said in what he hoped was a soothing tone, "You can wash up." When she only looked even more nervous, he added gently, "Elena, I promise I don't bite. I just want to help. Trust me."
"You can just put your clothes and blanket in here," Damon said, setting a basket in the bathroom. He handed her soap, shampoo, a towel, and one of his shirts. "Sorry none of them are girly," he scratched his neck, "It's been a long time since I've had a woman here."
Elena only blinked at him, looking somehow smaller and more vulnerable without the blanket wrapped around her.
"Right," he backed out of the room and gestured over his shoulder, "My room is just down the hall. Come in there when you're all done."
She didn't give him any sort of acknowledgment as he closed the door behind him and flopped down on his bed tiredly. The alcohol had all but disappeared from his system, and he was itching for another glass. Unfortunately, being sober for Elena's sake seemed slightly more important at this moment. He didn't know what it was about her, but the desire to keep her safe was almost overpowering.
Damon drifted in between sleep and consciousness for the next hour, until he finally heard a timid knock on his door. He sat up in bed, calling out automatically, "Come in." Elena sidled through the door, keeping her head down so that her curls fell over her face. "Are you..." Damon trailed off when she looked up at him, their eyes locking for the first time.
Her body had been scrubbed clean, layers of grime and dirt gone to reveal silky olive smooth skin. Her damaged, stringy hair had disappeared, revealing dark brunette curls that hung just past her shoulders. She was wearing the white button down shirt he had given her, and he felt something akin to desire stir within him at the sight of her wearing his clothes.
"Thank you," Elena's voice broke through his inappropriate thoughts, "I don't know what to say." Her bare feet twisted together on the carpet as she shifted, "I feel like I should give you something, but I don't have anything...well, except..." She bit her lip, looking scared as she walked towards him. "I can give you one thing," she whispered, reaching out towards him.
Damon looked at her in confusion, wondering what on earth she was talking about. He nearly jumped back when her fingers closed around his belt buckle as she attempted to pull down his pants. "Whoa," he scrambled backwards, putting some distance between them, "What the hell are you doing?"
Elena tilted her head, looking baffled, "Don't you want your payment?"
"What?" he couldn't believe what he was hearing, "Why the hell would you think that? Jesus, no I don't want...why would you even-"
"It's what they all want," she muttered, staring at a spot on the floor. "Every man that has ever given me anything before...it's what they've wanted."
Damon suddenly felt inexplicably furious on her behalf, and he had to take a deep breath to control the anger in his voice. "I'm not that kind of guy," he said tightly, "I don't want anything from you, Elena. I just want to help."
She looked up at him, her dark eyes growing intense, "Why? Why are you being so nice to me?"
He didn't have an answer for her, so he simply shrugged, "It's Christmas, Elena. No one should be alone today. Look, why don't you go downstairs and sit by the fire to warm up? I'll be down in a minute."
Elena looked like she was going to argue, but instead she just nodded and quickly slipped out of the room. Damon locked the door behind her and slid to the floor, covering his face with his hands. Something was seriously wrong with him.
"You're doing wonderful, Damon," Camilla's voice suddenly echoed through the room, "I'm proud of you."
"I don't understand," he looked up at her helplessly, "Why do I..." He shook his head, a frown marring his features, "Why do I feel so drawn to her? Why do I want to protect her?"
His mother knelt next to him, brushing his cheek softly, "There's a part of you that feels for her." She smiled gently, "I was worried that you had no humanity left inside you, that you had actually become that monster you pretend to be...but you've proved me wrong tonight, my son."
Damon wandered downstairs, freezing at the doorway to the living room when he saw Elena looking through the case files that had lain forgotten on the floor. "What are you doing?"
She let the files fall from her hands, looking up at him with wide eyes. "You," she swallowed, "You're Damon Salvatore."
He paused, wondering why she looked so scared. "I am," he confirmed, "What's the matter?"
Elena took a step back, whispering hoarsely, "But everyone hates you...they all talk about what a cold, unfeeling man you are."
Damon sat down heavily, "I guess that would be true."
She inched towards him cautiously before sitting down on the opposite end of the sofa, "But if it's true, then why did you do so much to help me?"
"If I told you, then you'd think I was crazy," he told her honestly, "Trust me, you're better off thinking that I'm a jerk than knowing the truth." He stopped in surprise when he suddenly felt her warm hand enclose over his, and he looked over to see that she had shifted on the sofa so that she was sitting next to him.
"I don't think you're a jerk," she met his gaze, "In fact, you're the nicest person I've met since...well, since I ended up on the streets."
Damon grimaced, "Somehow that doesn't sound like a compliment." He met her gaze curiously, "How old are you?"
Elena didn't let go of his hand; either she had forgotten she was holding it, or she was seeking comfort. Whichever the case, he certainly didn't mind. "I'm 22," she began in a low voice, "My parents died when I was 16 years old. My younger brother and I were thrown into foster care, but no one really wants teenagers." She took a deep breath, "Then my brother got in with the wrong kinds of people. He died of a drug overdose two years ago. I've been on my own ever since."
Damon let his thumb graze her palm soothingly as she finished her story. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "That you had to go through that."
She turned to look at him, shrugging, "Don't be. You're the first person who's given me food and shelter without asking for anything in return." Her lips lifted in a small smile, "I guess you're my Christmas miracle." Then, before he could react, she suddenly reached over and hugged him. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear, "For everything."
He nearly groaned as he wrapped his arms around her to return the hug, burying his face into her shoulder as her body pressed against his, eliciting something that he hadn't felt in years. Elena drew back sharply, placing one hand on his chest. She met his gaze once before her eyes dropped down to see the evidence of his arousal pressing against his jeans. Damon did groan then, "Elena...maybe you should..."
He was going to say 'stop touching me' but she surprised him by grabbing his hand and raising it to her breast. His mouth dropped open as he saw her nipples pebbling and hardening through the thin material of his shirt. Her lips parted in pleasure as he instinctively cupped her breast, his other hand snaking under the shirt to slip a finger in between her wet folds.
She gasped as he entered her, grasping his shoulders tightly as her hips bucked upwards. "It's been a while," she said breathlessly, moving so that she was straddling him. A moan escaped her lips as she grinded herself on his erection, desperately seeking for friction against her heated core.
"For me too," Damon murmured, incredibly aroused at the sight of her unbuttoning the shirt she was wearing and letting it fall to the ground. His jeans were now uncomfortably tight, and Elena immediately set to work on them. She tossed his belt to this side and then unzipped his pants, letting his erection spring free. Her eyes widened slightly at his size, and she looked up to see him watching her expression carefully. "Elena," he gritted out when her hand closed around him, "I'm not gonna be able to last if you keep doing that."
She let go, shifting on his lap so that his tip was nudging her entrance. She was already breathing heavily from anticipation, and as his fingers moved to brush her hardened peaks, she took a deep breath and impaled herself onto his length. They both moaned simultaneously, and Damon hissed as her tight walls stretched around him. "God," he groaned into her shoulder, his fingers digging into her hips so that she wouldn't move just yet, "Elena..." He blindly reached forward, his hand tangling in her hair and bringing her towards him for a kiss.
As his mouth slanted over hers, she began thrusting with her hips, letting out a moan when Damon abruptly stood up. "What are you doing?" she gasped out, her bare breasts pressing into his chest and aching to be touched. He kicked off his pants as her legs wrapped firmly around his waist, and they staggered until her back hit the wall. She cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, her hands frantically scrambling at the buttons on his shirt so that she could pull it off.
"Bedroom," was all he could say as he attempted to go up the stairs, hissing as her lips closed around his earlobe. As soon as they staggered into his room, they both fell into bed, the sheets getting tangled around their bodies. She writhed underneath him, her breaths escaping her in short gasps every time that he slammed into her. Her hips arched, meeting him thrust for thrust as they fell into a rhythm that left them both rapidly approaching oblivion.
Elena threw her head back, her legs tightening around him as her orgasm hit her. Damon let out a string of curse words as he came moments after she did, collapsing next to her on the bed. Wave after wave of pleasure flew across her body, leaving her trembling as the coolness spread across her skin. "Damon," she whispered, reaching out her hand to feel for him.
"I'm here," he said immediately, drawing her close so that his body was spooning hers. He brushed his lips against her neck, "I'm right here."
"Go set the table!" Caroline said in a harassed voice to little Taylor, shooing him out of the kitchen with a dish towel. "And tell your father to quit watching the game and to get in here!"
"I love you too, honey," Stefan grinned as he appeared in the room, patting Taylor's head as he ran out of the kitchen. He kissed Caroline on the cheek, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her body against his chest. "You," he murmured, brushing his lips against her neck, "Work too much."
"Aw, you're so sweet," Caroline patted his cheek before pointing a spatula at him sternly, "But don't think you can distract me. Stir the sauce while I-" She broke off with a frown as the doorbell rang, "Who could that possibly be?"
"I don't know," Stefan followed her to the front door, and they both froze in shock when they saw who was standing there.
"Hello brother," Damon flashed him a rare grin, gesturing to the girl on his arm. "I hope you don't mind that I brought a guest. This is Elena." He smiled at her, "Elena, I'd like you to meet Stefan and his wife, Caroline."
"Pleased to meet you," Elena said shyly, giving them a smile. She held up a bottle of wine, "We brought this for you guys."
Caroline's mouth moved soundlessly, and she let out a squeak when Stefan nudged her with his elbow pointedly. "Wow, you're gorgeous," she blurted out to Elena, "Where did Damon find you?"
"It's a long story," Damon grinned as they both stepped into the house. He turned towards Caroline, "Something smells good. Anything I can help with?"
Her expression relaxed and she smiled back, "How about I show Elena around while you and Stefan catch up?"
Damon kissed Elena lightly on the lips before following Stefan into the living room. "Thank you for inviting me," he gripped his brother's shoulder goodnaturedly, "I know I've been a jackass these past few years, but-"
"But you're here now," Stefan interrupted, giving Damon a quick hug, "That's all that matters." He pulled back and studied his brother's expression curiously, "You seem different somehow. Did something happen?"
"Just a bit of good old fashioned Christmas intervention," Damon answered mysteriously as they entered the dining room. "You know," he added as he took a seat, "We should take all the leftover food to Ric's diner later. Alaric and Elijah came by yesterday and told me they're hosting a dinner for the homeless tonight."
"That's a great idea, Damon," Caroline squeezed his shoulder gently as she moved around him to finish setting the table. She raised her glass of wine towards Elena, "I can already tell that you'll be a good influence on him."
Damon raised his own glass, his lips curving upwards into a smile. "Yes," he agreed, winking at Elena, "She definitely will be."
As everyone clinked their glasses together, Camilla Salvatore stood in the corner and looked on affectionately. "That's my son," she whispered with a smile as the chains around her disappeared. She blew them a kiss before disappearing as well.
*Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! Happy Holidays! Be sure to review ;) xoxo
Chapter 7: Ringing in the New Year
Prompt #7 (by lauren3210): "In the near future, Stefan's all better and back to being himself, so Damon has left Mystic Falls behind. But he finds himself back there at Christmas…Elena realizes that this is her one chance to get him to stay with her…"
RINGING IN THE NEW YEAR
"I'm home!" Elena called out, nudging the front door open and dropping her suitcase on the threshold. She grinned as Jeremy bounded down the stairs, his arms thrown open wide as he engulfed his sister in a hug and spun her around. "Okay, okay," she laughed as her feet left the floor, "Getting dizzy, Jer."
Jeremy put her down, grinning as he looked her over, "How does it feel to be home?"
She looked around with a soft smile on her lips, "It feels good."
There were some clattering noises from the kitchen, and then Alaric came into view. "There she is," he strode towards her, a broad grin on his face as Elena wrapped both arms around him gratefully. "How's my college girl?"
"I'm good," she kissed him on the cheek and stepped away, "How've you been?"
"Getting along," Alaric nodded at Jeremy, "Why don't you catch up with your sister? I'll take the suitcase upstairs."
"Oh you don't have to-" Elena started, but Alaric brushed off her protests good-naturedly. "Thanks," she smiled after him and then turned around to look at Jeremy expectantly, "So, how's your senior year going?"
Jeremy sat down next to her on the sofa, looking pensive. "It's weird," he admitted, "Without any of you guys there. Well, besides Rebekah of course..."
"Yeah, I still can't believe she purposefully failed senior year just so she could do the whole year over again," Elena shook her head, "How is she doing?"
"Good, I think," Jeremy shrugged, "She's captain of the cheerleading squad now, just like she always wanted. Oh, and she ran for senior class president and somehow won that...don't ask me how."
Elena rolled her eyes, "Compulsion was involved, I'm sure." She hesitated, trying to discern her brother's evasive expression. "She's not causing any trouble for you, is she?"
"No," Jeremy glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, "I took her to Homecoming."
She nearly choked, "What? Homecoming? With her? But-" Elena broke off, narrowing her eyes at her brother, "Do you like her?"
"No, not like that," he sounded oddly belligerent, "I just thought she should have her shot at being Homecoming Queen."
"If you say so," Elena responded suspiciously, "Is she still living at..."
"Yeah, the Salvatore boarding house. I guess it's good someone's there, or it would just be empty."
"Good," Elena nodded and looked down at her hands, "That's good."
"Speaking of which," Alaric came down the stairs at that moment, clearly having overheard their conversation. "Did you tell your sister about the New Year's Eve dinner?"
"What dinner?"
Alaric glanced at Jeremy once before turning back to look at Elena. "Rebekah made some deal with the Lockwoods, so she'll be hosting the annual Mystic Falls dinner this year," he hesitated and then added, "At the Salvatore boarding house."
Elena swallowed, "Ric, I don't think I can..."
"You can," he said firmly, "And you will."
"You made it!" Rebekah reached out to embrace Elena like they were old friends; clearly, all grievances had been forgotten. "How was your Christmas?"
Elena tried to smile, but she had to take a deep breath as she forced herself to step into the Salvatore house for the first time in many months. "It was quiet," she answered, her eyes darting around to look at all the decorations, "But it was good to be home."
"Did you get a chance to catch up with Caroline and Bonnie?"
"I did," Elena looked around hopefully, "Are they here yet?"
"No, but they will be," Rebekah said confidently, taking Elena's arm and leading her down the hallway. "I don't think you really know anyone here at the moment, but I do have a surprise for you."
Elena stopped just outside of the kitchen, looking at Rebekah warily. "What kind of surprise is it?"
She smiled mischievously, "I may have invited someone..." She gave Elena a little push through the kitchen door, "Go see."
Elena stumbled in and looked up, her eyes widening in shock and then joy. "Elijah!" she ran forward, throwing her arms around him, "I didn't know you were coming!"
"Hence the 'surprise' part, I presume," he returned her hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "How have you been?" he asked in a low voice, gazing at her with a level of intensity that she had never seen before. "Getting on alright?"
She considered her answer for a moment before saying truthfully, "I've been getting by."
"Elena..."
She pulled back from his embrace abruptly, "Moving on is easier said than done, Elijah."
"I know."
"You haven't by any chance..." Elena cleared her throat, "Have you heard from either of them?"
Elijah sighed, "I'm sorry, Elena. I know being back here must be hard for you."
"It is," she acknowledged, looking around the kitchen to make sure they were really alone. Loud music filtered in through the door, along with laughter and whispers of conversation from the chattering crowd. "I guess Rebekah invited a lot of people."
"That's my sister," Elijah smiled slightly, "Ever the popular one."
"Do you miss him?" Elena asked impulsively, "Klaus?"
He met her gaze, "Not once."
"It's been a year," she told him quietly, "A whole year since we killed him." Elijah didn't respond in any way, except to take a sip of his wine and watch her carefully. "And it's been 11 months 19 days since Damon took off." Elena laughed at herself, "You must think I'm pathetic for counting the days since he's been gone."
"Not at all," Elijah replied gently, "When did Stefan leave?"
"About ten days after Damon did," Elena grabbed a bottle of wine that was sitting on the counter and took a swig from it gratefully. She put it down with a thud after a minute, her mouth wavering as she whispered, "I haven't seen or heard from either of them since."
"You're not having fun, are you?" Caroline asked sympathetically, reaching over to clasp Elena's hand. "Do you want to leave? We can all go watch a movie or something if you want."
Elena shook her head quickly, smiling at her friend, "No, I'm not going to ruin New Year's for everyone." She looked up as Rebekah approached them and added, "You've done a great job keeping this house together, Bex. The decorations are amazing."
"Thank you," Rebekah beamed at her, "Though I'll admit, I did have quite a bit of help from your brother."
Elena's smile faltered, "Jeremy isn't-"
"He's been a good friend," Rebekah cut her off with a knowing smile, "But he's still hung up on Bonnie, I know that." She gestured over her shoulder, where Elena could see Jeremy and Bonnie engrossed in what looked like a serious conversation. "But enough about that," Rebekah held her hand out to Elena, "I have something to show you."
"Um, okay," Elena reluctantly followed her out of the room and through the kitchen. "Where are we going?" she asked with a frown as they ascended the staircase, "Listen, being in this house is already difficult enough for me. I don't think I want to go upstairs."
Rebekah stopped on the top stair and gave her a devilish smile, "Don't you trust me?"
"That sentence never leads to anything good," Elena pursed her lips, "Look, I really don't think-" She froze as the bedroom door across from them opened and someone stepped out of it. The words died on her lips and suddenly it felt like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. "Damon."
"Elena."
Rebekah smirked at them, "I'll just leave you two alone, shall I?" She then blurred down the stairs and disappeared.
Elena took a step towards Damon, her voice a mere whisper, "Is this a dream?"
"No," Damon drew in an unnecessary breath as Elena placed a hand on his chest as though she was testing to see if he was a mirage or not. "It's me," he covered her hand with his own, "I'm here."
"You're really here," she repeated, and the truth of that statement suddenly left her gasping for air. "Damon," she breathed, suddenly throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him as close as was physically possible. She could feel tears running freely down her face as she swam in his scent, his touch, him for the first time in months. "I missed you," she sobbed, not even realizing that Damon was herding her into his room until the door shut behind them. She let go of him and released a shuddering breath as she looked around the room. So much had changed in their lives, but here...everything was the same.
"Elena," He reached for her again, nuzzling into her hair and breathing in deeply. "I missed you," he murmured, his voice taking on a desperate edge, "God, Elena, I missed you so much."
"Me too," she closed her eyes and relaxed into his arms, reveling in the simplicity of him just being there and holding her. Elena didn't know how long they stood there like that; maybe minutes, or maybe hours. All she knew was that she never wanted to be anywhere else.
And then suddenly he was pulling back from her, desperation filling his voice as he began apologizing, over and over again. "I thought it was the right call, Elena," he held her hands tightly within his, almost as though he was afraid to let go. "I thought it's what you wanted."
She shook her head vehemently, "That's never what I wanted, Damon. I would never want that."
"I thought..." Damon dropped his gaze to the ground, "Klaus was dead and Stefan was back...and I knew you would give him another chance." He looked up then, his eyes dark, "I didn't want to torture myself any longer, Elena. It would always be him, and I would always be on the sidelines-"
"No," she whispered, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks, "It's not like that, Damon. You have to know it's not like that."
He let go of her hands, smiling a little as he used his thumbs to wipe away her tears. His voice was low, "You never gave me reason to believe otherwise, Elena."
Her shoulders slumped forward, knowing he was right. "I'm sorry," she said tearfully, "For everything."
"Shh," he pulled her into his embrace again, "Don't be. You gave me a reason to live, Elena. Everything I did, I did it for you."
Elena rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the tension leave her body. "Stefan left right after you did," she said to him tiredly, "We never got back together. It wasn't right, and it wasn't going to work. He knew it and I knew it. Too many things had happened, too many things had changed." She stepped back from Damon, "We were both different people."
He nodded slowly, holding her gaze, "What happened to never giving up on him?"
"I never did," she answered quietly, "We saved him, Damon. We saved him from the worst part of himself, from the darkest abyss of his mind. That's all I ever wanted."
"And now?"
"That was then," Elena took a cautious step towards him, emboldened when he didn't back away. She continued to close the gap between them until they were standing inches apart. Her gaze flicked between his eyes and his mouth as she breathed, "This is now."
Damon didn't move a muscle as she stepped even closer. When their lips were a hair breadth apart, he began in a warning voice, "Elena..." Before he could finish, however, her soft lips closed over his, and he was officially a goner. It was the first kiss they'd had which wasn't done forcefully or when he was on his deathbed-mainly, this was the first time he got to fully appreciate the feel of Elena's lips moving against his, the little sounds she made in the back of her throat as he responded to the kiss with fervor, slipping his tongue into her mouth as he tasted her.
She was gasping for air by the time he let her breathe, and her gasps quickly turned into moans as he turned his attention to the slender column of her neck. "Oh god," she gripped his shoulders tightly in an effort to keep standing, "Damon..."
He pulled back to look at her properly, her flushed face and sparkling eyes sending his arousal skyrocketing. "You're so beautiful," he reached out to brush her hair out of her face, "You have no idea how much I missed you, Elena."
She took his hand and raised it to her chest, where he could feel her heart beating rapidly. "No more than I missed you," she whispered, "I thought of you every night, Damon. Every single night. I wondered what you were doing, where you were." Her breath hitched, "If you were even alive..."
"Not a day went by when I didn't have to force myself not to come running back to Mystic Falls," Damon cupped her face within his hands, "You have to understand, Elena...Leaving was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."
"Promise me," she whispered, "Promise me you'll never leave me again."
"I promise," he said fervently, "Elena-"
"Good," she tilted her face up for a kiss, sighing into his mouth as his lips brushed against hers lightly. "Because I love you too much to ever let you go again," she smiled slightly as his eyes flew open in shock. "I think I always did, you know," she admitted, "It just took me a while to figure it out." She glanced up at him hesitantly, "And now that I have..." Damon's eyes widened even further when she reached out and slowly began undoing the buttons on his shirt.
He stilled her by clasping onto her wrist, "Elena, we don't have to do this."
She silenced him with a kiss, her lips curving upwards into a smile, "I want to." When she finished unbuttoning his shirt, she tentatively placed a hand on his chest. Damon closed his eyes at the feel of her warm skin against his, and only reopened his eyes when he heard the sound of a zipper being undone. He stepped out of his pants and kicked off his shoes, eyeing Elena to see how she was reacting to all this. She only smiled, however, turning around and gesturing to the zipper on her simple black dress.
He had to take a deep breath to steady himself as he unzipped her dress and carefully tugged the thin straps off her shoulders. The dress fell to the ground with a soft swish, and he instantly became hard at the sight of Elena standing before him in only her black lacy bra and panty set. "Come here," he nearly growled, pulling her towards him as they both tumbled into bed. They rolled over until he was hovering over her, and she was laid out beneath him, her hair fanned out in a perfect circle. "God, I love you so much," he heard himself say as he pressed his lips to her collarbone, her breasts, any skin that he could reach.
Elena was breathing heavily, and he could sense how aroused she was already. "Damon," she gasped out as his mouth closed over the lace still covering her breast, sucking at it until her nipples hardened, straining through the thin material covering them. She moaned as his other hand reached up to cup her breast, kneading it through the fabric. Heat spread through her body and she desperately wrapped her legs around his waist, her hips bucking upwards to grind against him.
He chuckled against her skin before abruptly reaching between them and ripping the bra off her body. Damon stared in wonder as her breasts spilled out and he sighed in contentment as he cupped them in his hands. Just as he'd thought-a perfect fit. She whispered his name again, and he looked up to see desire darkening in her eyes. Keeping their gazes locked, he reached between them to pull her panties down her legs.
Elena could feel his arousal pressing against her leg as he reached back up to kiss her, and she used her hand to guide him to her entrance. She took a deep breath, keeping her eyes on his as he slowly entered her, filling her more than she had ever been before. Damon gave her a moment for her tight walls to adjust to his size before he began languidly moving within her, setting an unhurried pace. Elena's eyes were closed, her lips parted in pleasure as the sounds of their lovemaking filled the air. She moaned into his mouth as their lips met again, and her hands moved up to tangle in his hair as she threw her head back.
"Do you hear that?" Damon mumbled, his lips moving against her neck where he could feel her pulse beating rapidly, "Fireworks."
She turned slightly to look out the window and then she glanced at the clock next to them, her eyes widening, "It's midnight." She dug her nails into his back as he began thrusting faster, creating the heat and friction that they were both craving. Elena cried out his name as he drove her towards the edge, and Damon hurriedly covered her mouth with his to swallow her scream of pleasure.
He kissed her lips once as she came down from her high, "I guess I should wish you a Happy New Year."
She smiled back at him dazedly, reaching out to stroke his face. "Did you know that whatever you do at midnight on New Year's Eve is a sign for how you'll spend the rest of the year?"
Damon smirked as he murmured against her lips, "Then I guess we picked the perfect way to ring in the New Year."
Chapter 6: A Delena Christmas Carol
Prompt #6 (by 123nenagirl): "Damon Salvatore hates Christmas. He's about to spend a lonely Christmas Eve when his mother's ghost suddenly appears beside his bed. She yells at him to stop pitying himself and to do something nice for the people that are less fortunate out in the world. Damon is shaken after seeing his mother's ghost. He goes out in the cold streets and finds a hobo (Elena) of course...He decides to take her home and give her the gift of having a perfect Christmas..."
A DELENA CHRISTMAS CAROL
"Well?" Damon Salvatore snapped, looking up as his assistant nervously knocked on his office door. "Don't just stand there! What do you want?"
Matt Donovan shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, before venturing timidly, "I, ah, was just wondering if tomorrow I could possibly...er, have the day off?"
Damon let the stack of files he was sorting through fall from his hands, and they landed on the desk in front of him with a loud thud. "Why," he demanded, "Would you need the day off?"
"It's..." Matt swallowed visibly, "See, tomorrow is Christmas Day...and my mom is actually planning on visiting this year...and my sister finally got her life together and she's-"
"Did I ask for your life story?"
"No," Matt bowed his head, "Of course not, sir. I apologize."
Damon sighed, waving him off in annoyance, "Just leave. Go ahead and take the day off tomorrow. I have no doubt the union would come after me if I didn't give you at least one paid holiday."
Matt's eyes lit up, "Paid holiday? Oh, thank you so much Mr. Salvatore! You have no idea how much this means to me..." He stopped himself as Damon shot him a warning look, "Right, I'm leaving right now. Merry Christmas Eve, sir."
"Whatever," Damon muttered under his breath, glaring as Matt excitedly gathered his things and nearly skipped out of the office. As he opened the door to leave, he turned around and waved goodbye. The door unfortunately didn't close fully behind him, stopping ajar and sending the sounds of caroling children filtering through the room.
This was simply unacceptable.
Damon gritted his teeth, slamming his bottle of whiskey back onto the table as he strode to the door to close it properly. However, someone pulled the door open at that moment and stepped into his office, grinning broadly. "Hello brother," Stefan greeted, shaking snow out of his hair. "It's really coming down hard out there, isn't it?"
"I wouldn't know," Damon answered grumpily, stomping back to his desk and flinging himself into his chair. "What are you doing here?"
Stefan settled himself into the chair across from him, giving his brother an amicable smile. "Oh come on now, Damon. You know why I'm here."
"Actually, I haven't the faintest clue."
"You haven't responded to our dinner invitation for tomorrow," Stefan began wheedling, "Caroline would really love it if you came...she's been cooking up a feast all day."
"Yeah," Damon pretended to arrange some papers, "I don't think so."
"But-"
"I have too much work, Stefan. I won't be able to make it."
"You're always working," Stefan stood up and heaved a sigh, "Christmas is a time to spend with family, Damon. We want you to join us. Won't you change your mind?"
"Goodbye Stefan," Damon said with finality, "I'm sure you can let yourself out."
"Fine," Stefan sent him one last disappointed look, "Have a good Christmas, brother."
When the clock neared 8PM, Damon begrudgingly put all his files away. He glanced out the window as he pulled on his woolen coat, scowling at the snow flakes falling from the sky. He hated everything about the winter season, starting with the bitter cold and ending with the overzealous fake cheer commercialized by Hallmark. It was all a ruse, and a costly one at that. Muttering to himself, he angrily locked up his office and stepped onto the sidewalk-only to be accosted by two more unwelcome guests.
"Mr. Salvatore!" Alaric Saltzman greeted, his breath releasing into the air with a small puff. He rubbed his hands together, "It's damn cold, isn't it?"
"Yes, which is why I'm on my way home," Damon replied curtly, "Where my fireplace and alcohol will keep me warm for the night."
"I don't believe you've met my new business partner?" Alaric plowed on, either not noticing or not caring about Damon's obvious attempts to sidestep a conversation. "This is Elijah. He works at the diner with me now. He's already done so much for the business, I don't know how I ever got along without him!"
"How nice," Damon responded indifferently, "Well, I really must be going-"
Elijah interrupted him smoothly, "Yes, business has been doing so well that the two of us have decided to host a charity dinner for the homeless tomorrow night. After all, it's Christmas...the perfect time to give back to the community, isn't it?"
Damon narrowed his eyes and sneered, "Well, if that's how you want to spend your time, far be it for me to stop you. Goodbye gentlemen."
"Wait," Alaric called to Damon's retreating back, "Wouldn't you like to donate any money for the dinner?"
He didn't even break his pace, laughing derisively as he continued down the street, "Hell no."
Elijah raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at Alaric, "Would you look at that? It's Ebenezer Scrooge back from the dead."
Alaric shook his head, "Think he's some kind of zombie?"
"Probably more like a vampire," Elijah clapped Alaric's shoulder, "Come on, I'm sure we'll have better luck on the next street over."
Damon let himself into his house, shivering slightly in the cold silence. He didn't bother turning on the lights in the hallway and instead went straight to the fireplace. Once he had gotten the fire going, he made his way into the kitchen to find something to eat.
As he passed through the hallway, he happened to glance at the phone that he never used. To his surprise, the answering machine blinked "1" indicating that he actually had a new message. He curiously pressed the button, only to scowl when his sister-in-law's overly vibrant voice began scolding him. "Really, Damon," Caroline snapped, "Every year you make up some excuse about skipping Christmas dinner, and every year Stefan invites you anyway! You keep ignoring him like this, then maybe one year he'll just stop trying. See how much you like that!" BEEP.
Damon, who had stopped listening as soon as Caroline began speaking, returned to the hallway only to delete the message. He held a glass of scotch in one hand, and case files he had brought home from work in his other hand. He settled himself in the armchair in front of the fireplace and began reviewing his files, getting up only occasionally to refill his glass with more alcohol.
.
He jumped, startled, as he heard the grandfather clock loudly signal that it was midnight. He looked around in confusion, noticing that his files had all fallen to the ground. Not bothering to pick them up, Damon stood up to put out the fire and head to bed. As soon as he got to his feet, however, he swayed and ungainly fell back into the armchair. "Okay Salvatore," he grumbled to himself, "You didn't even have that much to drink. Suck it up."
Truthfully, he had no idea how much he'd had to drink, but he eventually managed to stumble his way back to his room and collapse onto his bed in exhaustion. But just as he'd closed his eyes to succumb to the blissful numbness spreading through his body, he heard the sound of something metal screeching as it was dragged along the floor. His eyes flew back open and he stared at the ceiling for a second, wondering if he was dreaming.
"DAMON SALVATORE."
Now he was going crazy. Maybe he did have too much drink, after all.
"WAKE UP, MY SON."
His mother's voice. Strange, he hadn't dreamt about her in many years. Perhaps it was the visit with Stefan that had triggered the long-lost memory. Damn his brother.
"ARE YOU GOING TO GET UP, OR DO I NEED TO GET A BUCKET OF COLD WATER?"
Damon immediately sat up, clutching his sheets to his pounding chest. Sure, he might be drunk, but he sure as hell wasn't crazy enough to imagine this. "Hello?" he called out tentatively, "Is anyone t-there?"
"No one besides you and me, is there?" Camilla Salvatore snapped as she appeared before him. "No girlfriend, no wife," she shook her head in disappointment, "Where did we go wrong with you?"
"Wh-what?" Damon stammered, staring the ghost of his mother, "Is this a dream?"
"No," she crossed her arms, the chains clinking together as she glared at him, "This is, unfortunately, not a dream."
"But," he protested weakly, "You're dead."
"Astute observation, Damon," his mother responded briskly, "Glad to see you've inherited your father's genes in the intelligence area."
Damon looked around almost fearfully, "Is dad here too?"
"No," Camilla scoffed, "He was able to find his redemption before he died. I, however, did not." She tilted her head, studying him, "This is my chance, see? To help you, and to help myself."
"I'm dreaming," Damon whispered, "I had too much to drink and now I'm having hallucinations."
His mother placed one hand on her hip, "What will it take to convince you that I'm really here?" Damon shook his head, at a loss for words. "When you were little, your father treated you and Stefan like servants. He didn't spend a dime unless it was strictly necessary. In the winters we would all huddle by the fireplace, wrapped in blankets. When I died-"
"He changed," Damon said numbly, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
Camilla nodded, her expression softening. "Yes, he changed. He became compassionate and generous, he started giving back to the people who had put up with him over the years." She sighed, "I only wish that I would've been there to see it." She moved her arms then, and the chains dragged across the floor again. "As it is, I didn't change my attitude while I was alive, and now I am paying the price." Her face was sorrowful, "And now I see you making the same mistakes that your father and I did, Damon."
He slowly got out of bed, inching closer to his mother. "The chains?" he asked, his voice cracking, "What is that?"
"My sins...everything that I've done," she placed a hand on his shoulder, "I don't want this kind of afterlife for you, Damon. Your chains are even longer than mine right now..." Camilla trailed off as he met her gaze, "But you can change that. At this very moment, at this time and place, you can change your fate. Don't you see? You have your chance for redemption, as do I."
Damon closed his eyes, willing himself to wake up. When he opened his eyes, however, nothing had changed. "Okay," he said to his mother resignedly, "What do you want me to do?"
He walked through the streets, keeping his head down as the snow and wind billowed around him. Other than a few celebrating teenagers, the streets were largely empty. Damon made a left onto the main street, where there were more shops. His glance fell briefly on Ric's diner, which was shut down for the night, and he hesitated. Maybe he could leave a donation for the charity dinner and that would end this whole nightmare?
Damon crossed the street, intending on slipping a check under the door. Just as he was rummaging through his coat for his checkbook, however, he heard a commotion coming from the bar on the other side of the street. He turned around to see the bar owner, Mason Lockwood, roughly shove someone out the door.
"Get out and stay out!" he roared, "We don't need filth like you in my establishment!" The person fell to the sidewalk and began crawling, slipping several times on the ice. Damon took half a step towards them, but then Mason shouted again, "Hurry up and get out of here before you drive away my business!" The bar door slammed shut, and the person on the sidewalk ceased moving, seeming to give up completely.
"Hey," Damon called, hurriedly crossing the street and hovering above the person, "Are you alright?" He nudged the person with his shoe, but there was still no response. Muttering an oath and raising his eyes to the heavens (his mother better be watching this!), Damon knelt to the ground and hesitantly pulled at the torn blanket that the person was wrapped in. As it fell away, it revealed the ragged brunette curls of a young girl. Damon stared at her for a minute, examining the smudges on her face and her thin frame which was barely covered in oversized clothing. "Are you okay?" he repeated, this time raising his voice so she could hear him. "Do you need help?"
The girl opened her eyes slowly, and he was struck by how defeated she looked. "No," she whispered, "I don't need anything."
"Don't be ridiculous," Damon didn't move, "Are you lost? What's your name?"
She blinked a couple times before licking her dry lips and answering, "Elena. My name is Elena...and no, I'm not lost." She looked away from him, "I just have nowhere to go."
Damon groaned inwardly. What was he supposed to do with a homeless girl? He got to his feet, trying to think. "Well you certainly can't stay out here all night," he said to her as she struggled to stand up, "Is there a homeless shelter I can take you to? You shouldn't be lying here in the streets by yourself."
"No, sir," Elena tightened the blanket around herself, beginning to shiver violently. "Your kind words have been a gift enough. Thank you."
He watched as she began walking away, her body huddled against the howling wind. "Wait!" Damon called, running after her. She gasped a little when he grabbed her shoulder, and she shrunk back in fear immediately. Damon let go of her, raising his hands to show that he meant no harm. "I won't hurt you," he said to her quickly, because she still looked scared. "But I think I can help you."
"You don't have to do this," Elena said through chattering teeth as she stood in the hallway of his house, "I cannot give you anything in return."
"I couldn't leave you out there in the blizzard," Damon said stiffly, leading her to the living room and motioning for her to sit in front of the fireplace. "You'll feel warmer in no time," he said, backing away to let her enjoy the heat. "I'll go see if I can find some food in the kitchen."
She didn't answer him, and Damon paused at the threshold to look back at her. Elena had scooted as close to the fireplace as she could, her hands spread outwards towards the flames. In the light, he could distinctly see the blue tinge around her lips and the way that her body still seemed to be trembling. For the first time in many years, Damon strode into the hallway and turned to his thermostat, cranking up the heater.
.
He returned to the living room ten minutes later, holding a tray of whatever he could find in the kitchen (which was, admittedly, not much). "Sorry," he said to Elena as he sat down across from her on the carpet and pushed the tray towards her, "I'm more of an alcohol-type guy, so I don't keep that much food in the house. I can order something for you if..." He trailed off as Elena's eyes lit up, unadulterated joy filling her expression.
She reached hesitantly for the grapes, looking frequently up at Damon as though she was afraid that he would stop her. He frowned and got up to leave the room, getting the feeling that she would be more comfortable eating without anyone looking on. However, he stood in the hallway for a few minutes, where he could watch her without detection. Elena looked around once to make sure he was gone before she reached forward to devour the food, eating everything within her reach eagerly.
Damon felt something pull at his heart, and he quickly turned away. He made his way to the kitchen where he began taking out the ingredients to make hot chocolate. He pulled two mugs from the cabinet and set a pot of milk to heat on the stove (another appliance that he hadn't used in many years). He was waiting for it to boil when he heard a small sound behind him. He turned around to see Elena standing there, holding out the tray with trembling hands. "Th-thank you for the food," she whispered to him as he reached out to take the tray from her. She wiped a hand over her mouth and then looked down at the ground, "I should probably go now."
"Elena, wait," he grabbed her wrist, but let go when he saw the expression on her face. He moved away from her and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. "Please," he gestured to her, "Sit. The hot chocolate is almost done."
She didn't move, her eyes darting around the kitchen almost nervously, "I sh-should really get going."
"Oh come on," Damon methodically mixed the hot chocolate into the mugs, "It's the kind with marshmallows..." He glanced behind him once, satisfied to see that she looked tempted. Elena slowly sat down in the chair, her hands immediately wrapping around the mug that he set in front of her. "Is it good?" he asked when she raised it to her lips and took a sip, "It's been a while since I've made it...I might be a little rusty."
"It's good," Elena gave him a tiny smile, "Thank you."
"So," Damon said after a few minutes, taking a seat across from her at the table, "What's your story?"
She immediately tensed, putting the mug down, "I don't want to talk about it."
"Okay," he nodded, trying to keep her calm, "That's okay. We don't have to talk about it." He placed both their mugs in the dishwasher and then pulled her chair back so that she could stand up. "Come on upstairs," he said in what he hoped was a soothing tone, "You can wash up." When she only looked even more nervous, he added gently, "Elena, I promise I don't bite. I just want to help. Trust me."
"You can just put your clothes and blanket in here," Damon said, setting a basket in the bathroom. He handed her soap, shampoo, a towel, and one of his shirts. "Sorry none of them are girly," he scratched his neck, "It's been a long time since I've had a woman here."
Elena only blinked at him, looking somehow smaller and more vulnerable without the blanket wrapped around her.
"Right," he backed out of the room and gestured over his shoulder, "My room is just down the hall. Come in there when you're all done."
She didn't give him any sort of acknowledgment as he closed the door behind him and flopped down on his bed tiredly. The alcohol had all but disappeared from his system, and he was itching for another glass. Unfortunately, being sober for Elena's sake seemed slightly more important at this moment. He didn't know what it was about her, but the desire to keep her safe was almost overpowering.
Damon drifted in between sleep and consciousness for the next hour, until he finally heard a timid knock on his door. He sat up in bed, calling out automatically, "Come in." Elena sidled through the door, keeping her head down so that her curls fell over her face. "Are you..." Damon trailed off when she looked up at him, their eyes locking for the first time.
Her body had been scrubbed clean, layers of grime and dirt gone to reveal silky olive smooth skin. Her damaged, stringy hair had disappeared, revealing dark brunette curls that hung just past her shoulders. She was wearing the white button down shirt he had given her, and he felt something akin to desire stir within him at the sight of her wearing his clothes.
"Thank you," Elena's voice broke through his inappropriate thoughts, "I don't know what to say." Her bare feet twisted together on the carpet as she shifted, "I feel like I should give you something, but I don't have anything...well, except..." She bit her lip, looking scared as she walked towards him. "I can give you one thing," she whispered, reaching out towards him.
Damon looked at her in confusion, wondering what on earth she was talking about. He nearly jumped back when her fingers closed around his belt buckle as she attempted to pull down his pants. "Whoa," he scrambled backwards, putting some distance between them, "What the hell are you doing?"
Elena tilted her head, looking baffled, "Don't you want your payment?"
"What?" he couldn't believe what he was hearing, "Why the hell would you think that? Jesus, no I don't want...why would you even-"
"It's what they all want," she muttered, staring at a spot on the floor. "Every man that has ever given me anything before...it's what they've wanted."
Damon suddenly felt inexplicably furious on her behalf, and he had to take a deep breath to control the anger in his voice. "I'm not that kind of guy," he said tightly, "I don't want anything from you, Elena. I just want to help."
She looked up at him, her dark eyes growing intense, "Why? Why are you being so nice to me?"
He didn't have an answer for her, so he simply shrugged, "It's Christmas, Elena. No one should be alone today. Look, why don't you go downstairs and sit by the fire to warm up? I'll be down in a minute."
Elena looked like she was going to argue, but instead she just nodded and quickly slipped out of the room. Damon locked the door behind her and slid to the floor, covering his face with his hands. Something was seriously wrong with him.
"You're doing wonderful, Damon," Camilla's voice suddenly echoed through the room, "I'm proud of you."
"I don't understand," he looked up at her helplessly, "Why do I..." He shook his head, a frown marring his features, "Why do I feel so drawn to her? Why do I want to protect her?"
His mother knelt next to him, brushing his cheek softly, "There's a part of you that feels for her." She smiled gently, "I was worried that you had no humanity left inside you, that you had actually become that monster you pretend to be...but you've proved me wrong tonight, my son."
Damon wandered downstairs, freezing at the doorway to the living room when he saw Elena looking through the case files that had lain forgotten on the floor. "What are you doing?"
She let the files fall from her hands, looking up at him with wide eyes. "You," she swallowed, "You're Damon Salvatore."
He paused, wondering why she looked so scared. "I am," he confirmed, "What's the matter?"
Elena took a step back, whispering hoarsely, "But everyone hates you...they all talk about what a cold, unfeeling man you are."
Damon sat down heavily, "I guess that would be true."
She inched towards him cautiously before sitting down on the opposite end of the sofa, "But if it's true, then why did you do so much to help me?"
"If I told you, then you'd think I was crazy," he told her honestly, "Trust me, you're better off thinking that I'm a jerk than knowing the truth." He stopped in surprise when he suddenly felt her warm hand enclose over his, and he looked over to see that she had shifted on the sofa so that she was sitting next to him.
"I don't think you're a jerk," she met his gaze, "In fact, you're the nicest person I've met since...well, since I ended up on the streets."
Damon grimaced, "Somehow that doesn't sound like a compliment." He met her gaze curiously, "How old are you?"
Elena didn't let go of his hand; either she had forgotten she was holding it, or she was seeking comfort. Whichever the case, he certainly didn't mind. "I'm 22," she began in a low voice, "My parents died when I was 16 years old. My younger brother and I were thrown into foster care, but no one really wants teenagers." She took a deep breath, "Then my brother got in with the wrong kinds of people. He died of a drug overdose two years ago. I've been on my own ever since."
Damon let his thumb graze her palm soothingly as she finished her story. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "That you had to go through that."
She turned to look at him, shrugging, "Don't be. You're the first person who's given me food and shelter without asking for anything in return." Her lips lifted in a small smile, "I guess you're my Christmas miracle." Then, before he could react, she suddenly reached over and hugged him. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear, "For everything."
He nearly groaned as he wrapped his arms around her to return the hug, burying his face into her shoulder as her body pressed against his, eliciting something that he hadn't felt in years. Elena drew back sharply, placing one hand on his chest. She met his gaze once before her eyes dropped down to see the evidence of his arousal pressing against his jeans. Damon did groan then, "Elena...maybe you should..."
He was going to say 'stop touching me' but she surprised him by grabbing his hand and raising it to her breast. His mouth dropped open as he saw her nipples pebbling and hardening through the thin material of his shirt. Her lips parted in pleasure as he instinctively cupped her breast, his other hand snaking under the shirt to slip a finger in between her wet folds.
She gasped as he entered her, grasping his shoulders tightly as her hips bucked upwards. "It's been a while," she said breathlessly, moving so that she was straddling him. A moan escaped her lips as she grinded herself on his erection, desperately seeking for friction against her heated core.
"For me too," Damon murmured, incredibly aroused at the sight of her unbuttoning the shirt she was wearing and letting it fall to the ground. His jeans were now uncomfortably tight, and Elena immediately set to work on them. She tossed his belt to this side and then unzipped his pants, letting his erection spring free. Her eyes widened slightly at his size, and she looked up to see him watching her expression carefully. "Elena," he gritted out when her hand closed around him, "I'm not gonna be able to last if you keep doing that."
She let go, shifting on his lap so that his tip was nudging her entrance. She was already breathing heavily from anticipation, and as his fingers moved to brush her hardened peaks, she took a deep breath and impaled herself onto his length. They both moaned simultaneously, and Damon hissed as her tight walls stretched around him. "God," he groaned into her shoulder, his fingers digging into her hips so that she wouldn't move just yet, "Elena..." He blindly reached forward, his hand tangling in her hair and bringing her towards him for a kiss.
As his mouth slanted over hers, she began thrusting with her hips, letting out a moan when Damon abruptly stood up. "What are you doing?" she gasped out, her bare breasts pressing into his chest and aching to be touched. He kicked off his pants as her legs wrapped firmly around his waist, and they staggered until her back hit the wall. She cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, her hands frantically scrambling at the buttons on his shirt so that she could pull it off.
"Bedroom," was all he could say as he attempted to go up the stairs, hissing as her lips closed around his earlobe. As soon as they staggered into his room, they both fell into bed, the sheets getting tangled around their bodies. She writhed underneath him, her breaths escaping her in short gasps every time that he slammed into her. Her hips arched, meeting him thrust for thrust as they fell into a rhythm that left them both rapidly approaching oblivion.
Elena threw her head back, her legs tightening around him as her orgasm hit her. Damon let out a string of curse words as he came moments after she did, collapsing next to her on the bed. Wave after wave of pleasure flew across her body, leaving her trembling as the coolness spread across her skin. "Damon," she whispered, reaching out her hand to feel for him.
"I'm here," he said immediately, drawing her close so that his body was spooning hers. He brushed his lips against her neck, "I'm right here."
"Go set the table!" Caroline said in a harassed voice to little Taylor, shooing him out of the kitchen with a dish towel. "And tell your father to quit watching the game and to get in here!"
"I love you too, honey," Stefan grinned as he appeared in the room, patting Taylor's head as he ran out of the kitchen. He kissed Caroline on the cheek, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her body against his chest. "You," he murmured, brushing his lips against her neck, "Work too much."
"Aw, you're so sweet," Caroline patted his cheek before pointing a spatula at him sternly, "But don't think you can distract me. Stir the sauce while I-" She broke off with a frown as the doorbell rang, "Who could that possibly be?"
"I don't know," Stefan followed her to the front door, and they both froze in shock when they saw who was standing there.
"Hello brother," Damon flashed him a rare grin, gesturing to the girl on his arm. "I hope you don't mind that I brought a guest. This is Elena." He smiled at her, "Elena, I'd like you to meet Stefan and his wife, Caroline."
"Pleased to meet you," Elena said shyly, giving them a smile. She held up a bottle of wine, "We brought this for you guys."
Caroline's mouth moved soundlessly, and she let out a squeak when Stefan nudged her with his elbow pointedly. "Wow, you're gorgeous," she blurted out to Elena, "Where did Damon find you?"
"It's a long story," Damon grinned as they both stepped into the house. He turned towards Caroline, "Something smells good. Anything I can help with?"
Her expression relaxed and she smiled back, "How about I show Elena around while you and Stefan catch up?"
Damon kissed Elena lightly on the lips before following Stefan into the living room. "Thank you for inviting me," he gripped his brother's shoulder goodnaturedly, "I know I've been a jackass these past few years, but-"
"But you're here now," Stefan interrupted, giving Damon a quick hug, "That's all that matters." He pulled back and studied his brother's expression curiously, "You seem different somehow. Did something happen?"
"Just a bit of good old fashioned Christmas intervention," Damon answered mysteriously as they entered the dining room. "You know," he added as he took a seat, "We should take all the leftover food to Ric's diner later. Alaric and Elijah came by yesterday and told me they're hosting a dinner for the homeless tonight."
"That's a great idea, Damon," Caroline squeezed his shoulder gently as she moved around him to finish setting the table. She raised her glass of wine towards Elena, "I can already tell that you'll be a good influence on him."
Damon raised his own glass, his lips curving upwards into a smile. "Yes," he agreed, winking at Elena, "She definitely will be."
As everyone clinked their glasses together, Camilla Salvatore stood in the corner and looked on affectionately. "That's my son," she whispered with a smile as the chains around her disappeared. She blew them a kiss before disappearing as well.
*Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas! Happy Holidays! Be sure to review ;) xoxo
Chapter 7: Ringing in the New Year
Prompt #7 (by lauren3210): "In the near future, Stefan's all better and back to being himself, so Damon has left Mystic Falls behind. But he finds himself back there at Christmas…Elena realizes that this is her one chance to get him to stay with her…"
RINGING IN THE NEW YEAR
"I'm home!" Elena called out, nudging the front door open and dropping her suitcase on the threshold. She grinned as Jeremy bounded down the stairs, his arms thrown open wide as he engulfed his sister in a hug and spun her around. "Okay, okay," she laughed as her feet left the floor, "Getting dizzy, Jer."
Jeremy put her down, grinning as he looked her over, "How does it feel to be home?"
She looked around with a soft smile on her lips, "It feels good."
There were some clattering noises from the kitchen, and then Alaric came into view. "There she is," he strode towards her, a broad grin on his face as Elena wrapped both arms around him gratefully. "How's my college girl?"
"I'm good," she kissed him on the cheek and stepped away, "How've you been?"
"Getting along," Alaric nodded at Jeremy, "Why don't you catch up with your sister? I'll take the suitcase upstairs."
"Oh you don't have to-" Elena started, but Alaric brushed off her protests good-naturedly. "Thanks," she smiled after him and then turned around to look at Jeremy expectantly, "So, how's your senior year going?"
Jeremy sat down next to her on the sofa, looking pensive. "It's weird," he admitted, "Without any of you guys there. Well, besides Rebekah of course..."
"Yeah, I still can't believe she purposefully failed senior year just so she could do the whole year over again," Elena shook her head, "How is she doing?"
"Good, I think," Jeremy shrugged, "She's captain of the cheerleading squad now, just like she always wanted. Oh, and she ran for senior class president and somehow won that...don't ask me how."
Elena rolled her eyes, "Compulsion was involved, I'm sure." She hesitated, trying to discern her brother's evasive expression. "She's not causing any trouble for you, is she?"
"No," Jeremy glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, "I took her to Homecoming."
She nearly choked, "What? Homecoming? With her? But-" Elena broke off, narrowing her eyes at her brother, "Do you like her?"
"No, not like that," he sounded oddly belligerent, "I just thought she should have her shot at being Homecoming Queen."
"If you say so," Elena responded suspiciously, "Is she still living at..."
"Yeah, the Salvatore boarding house. I guess it's good someone's there, or it would just be empty."
"Good," Elena nodded and looked down at her hands, "That's good."
"Speaking of which," Alaric came down the stairs at that moment, clearly having overheard their conversation. "Did you tell your sister about the New Year's Eve dinner?"
"What dinner?"
Alaric glanced at Jeremy once before turning back to look at Elena. "Rebekah made some deal with the Lockwoods, so she'll be hosting the annual Mystic Falls dinner this year," he hesitated and then added, "At the Salvatore boarding house."
Elena swallowed, "Ric, I don't think I can..."
"You can," he said firmly, "And you will."
"You made it!" Rebekah reached out to embrace Elena like they were old friends; clearly, all grievances had been forgotten. "How was your Christmas?"
Elena tried to smile, but she had to take a deep breath as she forced herself to step into the Salvatore house for the first time in many months. "It was quiet," she answered, her eyes darting around to look at all the decorations, "But it was good to be home."
"Did you get a chance to catch up with Caroline and Bonnie?"
"I did," Elena looked around hopefully, "Are they here yet?"
"No, but they will be," Rebekah said confidently, taking Elena's arm and leading her down the hallway. "I don't think you really know anyone here at the moment, but I do have a surprise for you."
Elena stopped just outside of the kitchen, looking at Rebekah warily. "What kind of surprise is it?"
She smiled mischievously, "I may have invited someone..." She gave Elena a little push through the kitchen door, "Go see."
Elena stumbled in and looked up, her eyes widening in shock and then joy. "Elijah!" she ran forward, throwing her arms around him, "I didn't know you were coming!"
"Hence the 'surprise' part, I presume," he returned her hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "How have you been?" he asked in a low voice, gazing at her with a level of intensity that she had never seen before. "Getting on alright?"
She considered her answer for a moment before saying truthfully, "I've been getting by."
"Elena..."
She pulled back from his embrace abruptly, "Moving on is easier said than done, Elijah."
"I know."
"You haven't by any chance..." Elena cleared her throat, "Have you heard from either of them?"
Elijah sighed, "I'm sorry, Elena. I know being back here must be hard for you."
"It is," she acknowledged, looking around the kitchen to make sure they were really alone. Loud music filtered in through the door, along with laughter and whispers of conversation from the chattering crowd. "I guess Rebekah invited a lot of people."
"That's my sister," Elijah smiled slightly, "Ever the popular one."
"Do you miss him?" Elena asked impulsively, "Klaus?"
He met her gaze, "Not once."
"It's been a year," she told him quietly, "A whole year since we killed him." Elijah didn't respond in any way, except to take a sip of his wine and watch her carefully. "And it's been 11 months 19 days since Damon took off." Elena laughed at herself, "You must think I'm pathetic for counting the days since he's been gone."
"Not at all," Elijah replied gently, "When did Stefan leave?"
"About ten days after Damon did," Elena grabbed a bottle of wine that was sitting on the counter and took a swig from it gratefully. She put it down with a thud after a minute, her mouth wavering as she whispered, "I haven't seen or heard from either of them since."
"You're not having fun, are you?" Caroline asked sympathetically, reaching over to clasp Elena's hand. "Do you want to leave? We can all go watch a movie or something if you want."
Elena shook her head quickly, smiling at her friend, "No, I'm not going to ruin New Year's for everyone." She looked up as Rebekah approached them and added, "You've done a great job keeping this house together, Bex. The decorations are amazing."
"Thank you," Rebekah beamed at her, "Though I'll admit, I did have quite a bit of help from your brother."
Elena's smile faltered, "Jeremy isn't-"
"He's been a good friend," Rebekah cut her off with a knowing smile, "But he's still hung up on Bonnie, I know that." She gestured over her shoulder, where Elena could see Jeremy and Bonnie engrossed in what looked like a serious conversation. "But enough about that," Rebekah held her hand out to Elena, "I have something to show you."
"Um, okay," Elena reluctantly followed her out of the room and through the kitchen. "Where are we going?" she asked with a frown as they ascended the staircase, "Listen, being in this house is already difficult enough for me. I don't think I want to go upstairs."
Rebekah stopped on the top stair and gave her a devilish smile, "Don't you trust me?"
"That sentence never leads to anything good," Elena pursed her lips, "Look, I really don't think-" She froze as the bedroom door across from them opened and someone stepped out of it. The words died on her lips and suddenly it felt like all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. "Damon."
"Elena."
Rebekah smirked at them, "I'll just leave you two alone, shall I?" She then blurred down the stairs and disappeared.
Elena took a step towards Damon, her voice a mere whisper, "Is this a dream?"
"No," Damon drew in an unnecessary breath as Elena placed a hand on his chest as though she was testing to see if he was a mirage or not. "It's me," he covered her hand with his own, "I'm here."
"You're really here," she repeated, and the truth of that statement suddenly left her gasping for air. "Damon," she breathed, suddenly throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him as close as was physically possible. She could feel tears running freely down her face as she swam in his scent, his touch, him for the first time in months. "I missed you," she sobbed, not even realizing that Damon was herding her into his room until the door shut behind them. She let go of him and released a shuddering breath as she looked around the room. So much had changed in their lives, but here...everything was the same.
"Elena," He reached for her again, nuzzling into her hair and breathing in deeply. "I missed you," he murmured, his voice taking on a desperate edge, "God, Elena, I missed you so much."
"Me too," she closed her eyes and relaxed into his arms, reveling in the simplicity of him just being there and holding her. Elena didn't know how long they stood there like that; maybe minutes, or maybe hours. All she knew was that she never wanted to be anywhere else.
And then suddenly he was pulling back from her, desperation filling his voice as he began apologizing, over and over again. "I thought it was the right call, Elena," he held her hands tightly within his, almost as though he was afraid to let go. "I thought it's what you wanted."
She shook her head vehemently, "That's never what I wanted, Damon. I would never want that."
"I thought..." Damon dropped his gaze to the ground, "Klaus was dead and Stefan was back...and I knew you would give him another chance." He looked up then, his eyes dark, "I didn't want to torture myself any longer, Elena. It would always be him, and I would always be on the sidelines-"
"No," she whispered, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks, "It's not like that, Damon. You have to know it's not like that."
He let go of her hands, smiling a little as he used his thumbs to wipe away her tears. His voice was low, "You never gave me reason to believe otherwise, Elena."
Her shoulders slumped forward, knowing he was right. "I'm sorry," she said tearfully, "For everything."
"Shh," he pulled her into his embrace again, "Don't be. You gave me a reason to live, Elena. Everything I did, I did it for you."
Elena rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the tension leave her body. "Stefan left right after you did," she said to him tiredly, "We never got back together. It wasn't right, and it wasn't going to work. He knew it and I knew it. Too many things had happened, too many things had changed." She stepped back from Damon, "We were both different people."
He nodded slowly, holding her gaze, "What happened to never giving up on him?"
"I never did," she answered quietly, "We saved him, Damon. We saved him from the worst part of himself, from the darkest abyss of his mind. That's all I ever wanted."
"And now?"
"That was then," Elena took a cautious step towards him, emboldened when he didn't back away. She continued to close the gap between them until they were standing inches apart. Her gaze flicked between his eyes and his mouth as she breathed, "This is now."
Damon didn't move a muscle as she stepped even closer. When their lips were a hair breadth apart, he began in a warning voice, "Elena..." Before he could finish, however, her soft lips closed over his, and he was officially a goner. It was the first kiss they'd had which wasn't done forcefully or when he was on his deathbed-mainly, this was the first time he got to fully appreciate the feel of Elena's lips moving against his, the little sounds she made in the back of her throat as he responded to the kiss with fervor, slipping his tongue into her mouth as he tasted her.
She was gasping for air by the time he let her breathe, and her gasps quickly turned into moans as he turned his attention to the slender column of her neck. "Oh god," she gripped his shoulders tightly in an effort to keep standing, "Damon..."
He pulled back to look at her properly, her flushed face and sparkling eyes sending his arousal skyrocketing. "You're so beautiful," he reached out to brush her hair out of her face, "You have no idea how much I missed you, Elena."
She took his hand and raised it to her chest, where he could feel her heart beating rapidly. "No more than I missed you," she whispered, "I thought of you every night, Damon. Every single night. I wondered what you were doing, where you were." Her breath hitched, "If you were even alive..."
"Not a day went by when I didn't have to force myself not to come running back to Mystic Falls," Damon cupped her face within his hands, "You have to understand, Elena...Leaving was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."
"Promise me," she whispered, "Promise me you'll never leave me again."
"I promise," he said fervently, "Elena-"
"Good," she tilted her face up for a kiss, sighing into his mouth as his lips brushed against hers lightly. "Because I love you too much to ever let you go again," she smiled slightly as his eyes flew open in shock. "I think I always did, you know," she admitted, "It just took me a while to figure it out." She glanced up at him hesitantly, "And now that I have..." Damon's eyes widened even further when she reached out and slowly began undoing the buttons on his shirt.
He stilled her by clasping onto her wrist, "Elena, we don't have to do this."
She silenced him with a kiss, her lips curving upwards into a smile, "I want to." When she finished unbuttoning his shirt, she tentatively placed a hand on his chest. Damon closed his eyes at the feel of her warm skin against his, and only reopened his eyes when he heard the sound of a zipper being undone. He stepped out of his pants and kicked off his shoes, eyeing Elena to see how she was reacting to all this. She only smiled, however, turning around and gesturing to the zipper on her simple black dress.
He had to take a deep breath to steady himself as he unzipped her dress and carefully tugged the thin straps off her shoulders. The dress fell to the ground with a soft swish, and he instantly became hard at the sight of Elena standing before him in only her black lacy bra and panty set. "Come here," he nearly growled, pulling her towards him as they both tumbled into bed. They rolled over until he was hovering over her, and she was laid out beneath him, her hair fanned out in a perfect circle. "God, I love you so much," he heard himself say as he pressed his lips to her collarbone, her breasts, any skin that he could reach.
Elena was breathing heavily, and he could sense how aroused she was already. "Damon," she gasped out as his mouth closed over the lace still covering her breast, sucking at it until her nipples hardened, straining through the thin material covering them. She moaned as his other hand reached up to cup her breast, kneading it through the fabric. Heat spread through her body and she desperately wrapped her legs around his waist, her hips bucking upwards to grind against him.
He chuckled against her skin before abruptly reaching between them and ripping the bra off her body. Damon stared in wonder as her breasts spilled out and he sighed in contentment as he cupped them in his hands. Just as he'd thought-a perfect fit. She whispered his name again, and he looked up to see desire darkening in her eyes. Keeping their gazes locked, he reached between them to pull her panties down her legs.
Elena could feel his arousal pressing against her leg as he reached back up to kiss her, and she used her hand to guide him to her entrance. She took a deep breath, keeping her eyes on his as he slowly entered her, filling her more than she had ever been before. Damon gave her a moment for her tight walls to adjust to his size before he began languidly moving within her, setting an unhurried pace. Elena's eyes were closed, her lips parted in pleasure as the sounds of their lovemaking filled the air. She moaned into his mouth as their lips met again, and her hands moved up to tangle in his hair as she threw her head back.
"Do you hear that?" Damon mumbled, his lips moving against her neck where he could feel her pulse beating rapidly, "Fireworks."
She turned slightly to look out the window and then she glanced at the clock next to them, her eyes widening, "It's midnight." She dug her nails into his back as he began thrusting faster, creating the heat and friction that they were both craving. Elena cried out his name as he drove her towards the edge, and Damon hurriedly covered her mouth with his to swallow her scream of pleasure.
He kissed her lips once as she came down from her high, "I guess I should wish you a Happy New Year."
She smiled back at him dazedly, reaching out to stroke his face. "Did you know that whatever you do at midnight on New Year's Eve is a sign for how you'll spend the rest of the year?"
Damon smirked as he murmured against her lips, "Then I guess we picked the perfect way to ring in the New Year."