Happy New Year. Thank you all for making the last one so memorable for us.

Standing in the doorway Damon watches helplessly as the fire trucks and the ambulance leave the station. He catches a glimpse of Elena and then they're all gone. He sighs and turns to leave when Caroline comes to stand next to him.

"It takes some time to get used to it," she shares as soon as he looks at her. "One minute they're here, making jokes, laughing and the next they're fighting death itself... If they're lucky they come back, unharmed and ready to fight another day.

"Those aren't exactly the most reassuring words..."

This is it. This is Elena Gilbert's life. When she's here, she's always on the run. When she isn't, he feels like chasing her. It's not healthy, he knows, especially when she doesn't feel the same, but this is how he feels about her. And damn him if he cares, he will have to live with it but for now, he needs to know that she'll return in one piece.

"Where's the fire?" Damon asks and turns to Caroline to see if she'll answer him.

"It's almost in the suburbs," she waves her hand in that direction and Damon recognizes the name of the neighborhood, Anasazi Place.

Seeing the look on his face, Caroline touches his arm to grab his attention. "It's a 3 alarm fire, they won't be back anytime soon if that's why you're asking."

"Caroline?" Damon lowers his voice, "I have a huge favor to ask."

He pushes through the crowd of onlookers but he isn't here for some sensation, he feels ashamed to admit it but he isn't here out of concern for the survivors or the people inside, he's only interested in one.

That's not entirely true as he does feel relief when he witnesses someone being carried outside, visibly breathing, communicating, and obviously living.

He feels the connection.

Now and then he sees guys he recognizes from Elena's station... multiple familiar faces, but no Elena in sight. They go in and come out, for hours and hours they battle the blaze. Fire licks around the house like it means to play, burning the grasses bleached brown by the winter sun. At first the wet timber resists, hours of hosing down providing some protection. The walls are soon alight and the smell of burning cedar is blown clear over the neighborhood.

A plume of fire explodes, its flames rolling outwards like the smoke of a mushroom cloud. The heat is oppressive even from two hundred yards away. Damon is a little aghast at the onlookers. They had been excited at first, snapping pictures to upload on social media and generally behaving like a crowd at a bonfire. But a subtle shift in wind direction brings noxious smoke and ash into their hair and eyes. With hands clamped over their mouths, many flee to their cars. It's almost chaotic as they all try to leave at once, honking their horns and struggling to see through their ash-coated windshield. Pretty soon the police are directing traffic away from the area. Damon is stunned by the impropriety of it all.

Ambulances come and go, the crowd now much thinner, thins even more as some get tired of watching another's tragedy.

And it's Christmas Day. Everyone should be home, with their families, not here like it's some medieval burning at the stake.

At 3 a.m. it's finally over but sadly, there's at least one casualty. He bowed his head when he saw them carrying the body, sliding the gurney into the awaiting ambulance. Damon texted Ric several hours ago that he'd be late, he's in no hurry to get back. Not before he has a chance to see her. He's not going to pretend he knows how it feels but he's sure it's agonizing for her and every other firefighter when they lose someone.

Eventually she comes into view. She looks tired and small at the distance, it might simply be his imagination. She's talking to some people, probably relatives of those who used to call the place home. Elena shakes her head and the woman starts crying, and the man takes her in his arms to support her. Tyler's coming to support his boss, exchanging a few words with them too.

It feels bizarre standing aside and watching what could have been the scene in the aftermath of his own house fire. He could just as easily be watching Jenna and Ric. He shudders at the thought.

He won't seek her out now, nor will he try to catch her attention. He got what he came for, she's alright. He needs to think.

This is her life, he knows that he has no say in it at all. And now he understands her reservations. Does understanding make it easier to accept it's over before it's even had a chance to start? He doesn't think so. Relieved that she's safe, he pulls out his phone and types a message. With a tired smile playing on his lips he pushes the send button and takes off on foot to put distance between them.

Elena's about to back off and leave the grieving family in care of capable hands of their pastor, the police and the counselor, it's all been too much. Tyler has her back, he always does but she doesn't need saving. She's right where she's supposed to be, with the family, falling into it right along with them. It's Christmas for God's sake. Where were the mother and her boyfriend while her son tried valiantly to save his grandparents lives and it cost him his own? How often in the years to come will they ask that same questions, doomed never to find the answers?

She can see Tyler watching her and although she appreciates his concern, she'd prefer to deal with it without his supervision.

You're stronger, Elena...

Stronger than who? Him? She wishes it was true. Otherwise she might end up on leave of absence like Meredith...

Or dead like her brother.

Where is the line between where they can go and where they dare not cross? How do they respect the limits if they can't recognize where they are. The boy didn't have to die, if he had just waited for them to arrive... He'd be embracing his grandparents right now... Instead they keep pushing and pushing their luck until it inevitably runs out. Still, isn't that how heroes are born?

"Are you alright?" Tyler joins her by the truck, trying to keep his voice casual.

Elena hops inside and loosens her overall, trying to ignore his searching gaze. Lacking patience, she reaches for her haversack to keep herself busy so she doesn't snap at him. Pulling out her phone, she notices new messages from her dad and uncle. Obviously they wanted to wish her a Merry Christmas, knowing that she's working on this night. The hour is late so she won't return them now but they probably know what's happening. She caught a glimpse of the TV crew covering the fire. Although she doesn't recognize the number, she opens the last message.

No matter how it turns out today, you're still the best chance they have. Merry Christmas Elena...

She stares at the message for a few seconds while a warm feeling spreads, expanding in her ribcage with each breath she takes. How did he get her phone number? She hesitates, unsure of what should she do now, it's too late to message him back at his hour. With one last look at the display she's not aware of the barely there smile that's forming on her lips.

"You know what? I will be, Tyler." At this precise moment she's never been more sure about that.

Elena's been nursing her aching heart, mourning the death that's caused too many painful memories to resurface.

It's the last day of the year and Elena finds herself, where else, at the station. Men from different shifts are there too, filling in for their comrades. It's actually Ray's turn but she took his day shift as he's newly married and just became a father to a baby boy, how could she say no?

Newly single Tyler is also present, he's been watching her like a hawk since Christmas day, she has a feeling that he's just waiting for her to break down.

As if…

"Can you stop please?"

"Huh?" he looks at her innocently, as if he has no idea what she's talking about.

"Hovering. You need to stop hovering."

"I'm not…"

Elena stops his excuses with one well-aimed look. "I'm not going to lose it, okay? I'm perfectly fine."

"Okay…," he shrugs but instead of giving her space, he nestles in the chair opposite her desk.

Wonderful.

Frankly, she's glad they got over the Rebekah issue. Her best friend is good, back to her witty, biting self. It also means that Tyler's comfortable around her, enough so to drive her crazy with his I'm not going to let you out of my sight attitude.

"You know, you should talk to someone," he informs her out of nowhere.

Elena looks at him incredulously. "Are you really going to suggest...?"

"Chill," Tyler quickly backs off. "Look Elena, we've known each other for a long time. I know you're tough as nails but even you have your limits."

"This wasn't it, I can assure you."

"I know that," Tyler looks frustrated. "I know you're more than capable of dealing with it on your own but you don't have to. If you don't want to talk to me, talk to Rebekah, your dad, even your uncle Grayson? Any of them would be glad to lend an ear and your dad, more than anyone would certainly understand."

Strange how Rebekah's name between them doesn't cause any discomfort.

He has a point, she knows, but she's used to dealing with her messes on her own. Dad would surely understand but he's the last person on Earth she'd want to burden with... this.

Too many painful memories.

"You know Tyler, I appreciate that you always have my back but I need to... come to terms with it on my own. Why don't you tell me about Rebekah?" she asks, changing the subject.

"You're okay with me breaking up with Rebekah?" he asks quietly and Elena understands it weighs heavily on his mind.

"You want to explain?" She's not exactly sure what to ask or what he needs to get off his chest. However, she's certain they can't just dodge the subject.

"I realized you're right. I didn't use her knowingly, but I guess in a way I did. She deserves a guy who's completely committed. But in my defense, I never lied to her, we had a good time while it lasted."

Elena experiences the same unease as she did with Kai at the Christmas party. Why do other people's turmoil suddenly feel so uncomfortably familiar lately? She shakes it off, this is about Tyler. One of her oldest friends.

"I knew what I had to do," he continues, "but it took me some time to collect the courage. I didn't want to hurt her but I had to do the right thing, even though I admit the timing sucks," he chuckles humorlessly finally looking up to meet her eyes.

"Ty, the timing's never right and... you did the right thing. Thank you. It really was none of my business to start at you... but it wasn't just her, I care about your wellbeing too."

"Nope," he shakes his head, that's exactly what you're here for. You kicked my ass and opened my eyes."

They both laugh, it's a relief, knowing that they're still on the same page.

"But it goes both ways," he speaks again unexpectedly and he gives her a pointed look. "When it's the last time you saw Damon Salvatore?"

Elena didn't see that coming. "Where did that come from? It was Christmas day and you were there," she's buying time.

"And did you text him back?"

"I did! The next morning. How did you know it was him...? What's with the twenty ques...?"

"Doesn't matter," he waves her off. "The point is... are you sure you are not doing the same? That you're doing the same thing to him? You can't keep running from your life, Elena, and the poor guy deserves to know... everything. You let him in, I can see that. And then you just cut him off?"

"But we agreed on staying friends...," it sounds lame even to her own ears.

"Oh yeah?" Tyler's face shows clearly what he thinks about it.

"Since when have you become Damon Salvatore's biggest cheerleader?" Childish or not, she wants to stick her tongue out at him but she manages to bite back the urge.

"Since I found out he's willing to fight for you, which goes against his beliefs. Trust me, Elena, the guy can be anything and everything but your friend... Now, are you willing to do the same for him?" his inquisitive look is boring into her.

She doesn't dare give him an answer.

The week following Christmas day has been dragging and yet, the last day of the year has arrived with little fanfare. Damon feels melancholy. It's all at once and nothing in particular, it sucks and he feels like drowning himself in the bottle of bourbon that Ric gave him for Christmas. Standing up, he walks over to the TV to turn it on, he's able to enjoy some with the benefit of closed caption.

The lure of his Blanton's calls again like a siren, he's rather impressed with himself that he hasn't cracked the seal yet. With everything that happened in the last month, he's certainly allowed to imbibe. Despite the fact that he wants nothing more than to lapse in unconsciousness, preferably with help from the bottle that's smiling at him from its honorary place on his bookcase, he's a Salvatore, stubborn as the day is long and not one to take the easy way out.

And because he's better than that and he's not a quitter. Shaking his head, he walks to the sliding patio door and cracks it open. The street looks like an unfinished painting. So much of the canvas is still perfectly white, as if waiting for the artist's hand to return. Taking a breath, he inhales the crisp, cool air. The weather is frosty and the snow glitters like sequins scattered on his lawn. He smiles when a chilled squirrel hops from tree to tree, carefully trotting on branches. A ghostly wind whips up, pelting his face with the white stuff. Sighing he closes the door, walks back to the living room and collapses in his favorite chair. His eyes once again drift to that fine looking bottle of Blanton's.

One celebratory drink at midnight will do, for his house burnt to ash, for illusions that never materialize, for almost finding love, for pathetically moping on New Year's Eve... Happy New Year!

His train of thought is suddenly interrupted when the bulbs on his home alarm catch his attention by furiously, colorfully flashing.

The doorbell?

It's impossible. Unless Ric took a quick flight back from Bermuda, which in all honesty Damon wouldn't put past him if he suspects his brother's miserable and alone. Thinking it's probably either a defect or kids messing around, he reluctantly gets up and switches it off. Just as he's about to plop back down, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out and reads the message.

Where are you and what are you doing?

Elena?

His heart starts beating harder while he types in a response.

I'm home. Celebrating the new year.

Want some company?

Raking his hand through his hair, he stares at the screen, contemplating whether she's serious when the phone vibrates with another message.

Why aren't you answering the door?

Crap. She's really here! Damon's flying down the stairs before his tossed away phone lands on the couch.

She's really there. Looking somewhat uncertain she gives him a small smile when he opens the door and words seem to have escaped him.

It's her.

In the flesh.

"Sorry for disturbing your evening, I..."

"No," he quickly pulls himself together. "Come in. I... hope you can stay?" He never learns. Nope. He's a glutton for punishment. "I'm sorry I..."

"I can stay," she says quickly, reassuringly and Damon's stunned. Did she really say yes or is he imagining it?

He realizes he needs to push his musings to the back burner or she may reconsider and walk away. Biting the inside of his lip, he steps aside to let her in.

Elena steps inside, brushing the light dusting of snow off of her shoulders. "May I?" Damon offers, gesturing to her coat with his eyes. Seeing her nod, he takes it to hang on the rack. "Why don't we go to the living room, I have a fire going, you can warm up a little?" he asks tentatively.

Elena nods and starts to follow although her eyes are scanning her surroundings. She shakes her head at the tangerine and fuchsia walls, they're rather attractive in a macabre way. The dark wood bannister arcs like flowing water with smoothness and perfection. The architecture of the home is no more apparent than in the bookcase. The stairs had to have been built first, curving like the end of a cat's tail before ascending the first floor. The bookcase had come next, built up by the wall, each shelf starting next to an individual step. It's as if the home was designed one feature at a time.

Once in the living room, Damon offers her a chair and then excuses himself to make them something to drink. She's close to the fireplace, very much enjoying the warmth it provides. Thick wood pieces crackle and pop as the bright flames slowly eat away, turn it into black ash, as if a shadow is corrupting its lively essence. The dancing fire licks and spits at the curved ceiling of the hearth with its glowing, bright golden flame, and its red base shimmers across the polished wood floor like dawn upon a summer morning.

A short time later, she feels him brush her arm as he walks by to set the platter on the end table. "I make it from scratch, I hope you like it," he posits, handing her a mug.

"It sure smells delicious," she offers, putting the glass to her lips, a moan escaping as soon as it touch her taste buds. His hot chocolate tastes more like a melted belgian truffle. It's dark, rich and coats her tongue thickly before flowing down her throat. The top is swirled with white milk foam and spotted with cocoa powder. It smells like Charlie's Chocolate factory and she's torn between wanting to savour it and inhale it. For several moments she just wraps her hands around the ceramic mug, letting the warmth flow through her fingers, banishing the wintry chill.

"It's wonderful, thank you, Damon."

He acknowledges her thanks with a nod, watching her shift and get comfortable in the armchair. She takes a look around now and then and he thinks how nice it is to share this silence with her. She must be tired.

Not knowing how to begin the conversation they should be having, she begins by telling him about Cassie and how she had her for an overnight right after Christmas, adding that curiously Katherine was okay with it. The thought gives Elena pause, she never allows her daughter to come to the Gilbert family get-togethers but is usually willing to let Elena have her. She probably shouldn't question her motives, the time she spends with her niece are probably the happiest moments she has.

Well, at least until recently…

But half way through she realizes that's not what she wants, needs to talk about with him.

"Thank you for the message, Damon, I appreciated it. It was...," she takes a deep breath... "Christmas Day sucked. We lost a kid, 14 year old. He was staying with his grandparents. They either fell asleep early, I don't know really. The boy tried to save them but was overcome by smoke inhalation, he died before we could get him out. His grandparents... they're both alive but the grandfather is critical. How will they ever recover from this?"

Damon has a feeling she's not waiting for an answer, still, he wants to offer her his support. She's telling him something so personal and heartbreaking, he can't help but extend his hand to take hers. That he can do as a friend...

Elena sighs and squeezes his in return. "He died a hero and will never grow up to be one in the real world now."

"He will be, Elena, in your memory." He drops his eyes for a moment, ashamed his thoughts are not on the tragedy but the girl, the woman, in front of him. "I... was there, that night, Christmas day at Anasazi Place," he confesses. "I just wanted to assure myself that you were okay." He quickly looks at her, unsure of what she'll say.

"So... the message was not random?" she's astonished. "Why did you leave...?"

Damon's shaking his head even before she finishes the sentence. "It wasn't about me, you were there with your team, sharing the same heartbreak. I would have been an unwelcome intruder. Besides, your friend might have ended me," he's only half joking.

"You know, it was actually Tyler who brought," she gestures between them, "it my attention. He said that I'm... well... not considering your feelings in this equation? Earlier today, he told me in no uncertain terms that I might be using you."

"Elena, no, you're the most generous and compassionate person I've ever had the pleasure to meet…," he starts to protest but pauses only now realizing what she said. "Tyler Lockwood encouraged you to come here?" Damon asks incredulously, needing to reassure himself he hasn't been reading her wrong. No matter how much respect he may have earned with Tyler, this is beyond all expectations.

"Yeah," Elena gives him a small smile, understanding his astonishment. "But that's not all. I also had a conversation with Kai, my cousin, not about me, about him and his own issues... I realized then how similar, how damaged we are… well, at least I am. I always considered my career and its consequences that may or may not ever come to pass. I…"

This is it, the moment of truth. She seldom talks about Stefan but Damon needs to know to truly understand. She takes another breath to gather the courage to continue.

"I can't promise you it won't become a problem. I've tried, I really have but I just can't stop thinking about how uncertain the future is. None of us has any idea of course but you see, I have to be careful about who I let into my life. Tragically I learnt it the hard way," her voice trails off as her eyes take on a vacant look. Feeling his hand squeeze hers, she nods softly. "My brother, Cassie's father died in a fire. And everyday I see the ramifications of it in my own family, our parents, his wife, Cassie. She'll never know him, this job stole him from her. Even though three years have passed, it's still very raw for all of us. Every time I throw on my helmet, death is always going to be a possibility. There's no way to predict when our luck will run out. This is the reality our loved ones have to live with everyday. Many of us don't want to take that risk, breaking hearts because of choices we make. Divorces, broken families and unhappy spouses, it's reality for firefighters. And despite it all, I can't quit, Damon, not yet. I've wanted to do this job since I was a teenager. It's in our blood, most of my men have followed their father's, mother's, uncle's footsteps, just like me. I suppose most people think we're kind of crazy and yes, in a way it's true but I love my job, it's important and I'm good at it." She laughs nervously but Damon's never seen such a miserable display of gaiety.

This is a big moment, he can feel it. She's letting him in, despite what she's saying she has no other choice, not anymore, it's already been decided for her.

She feels the same.

It makes his head spin and he knows his hopes and expectations are rising again... without his permission. But he needs to be sure, he can't let himself believe only to have the rug pulled out from under him again.

"Did you really learn the sign alphabet for me?" Damon blurts out, admitting inside that it's not exactly the wittiest question.

She opens her mouth to deny it but not before he sees the cutest shade of pink coloring her cheeks, wordlessly telling him it was something she wanted to do.

For him.

Because she cares.

The atmosphere turns lighter now that Elena has shared the most important stuff. Damon's almost sure he's a finger pinch away from having everything he ever could have wished for. It's amazing how they don't even need to talk to feel nice and comfortable. Not everything has been said, he's aware, but Rome wasn't built in a day either. And they are building their own version of that ancient city and not just a run of the mill small town if he has a say in it.

Curiously, he seems to be uncharacteristically optimistic today. "More cocoa?" he asks impulsively and panics right away. Is it even appropriate to try to impress her by drowning themselves in cocoa?"

"Sure," she smiles sweetly. "It's certainly the best I've ever had," adding, "I'm serious!" when she sees the dubious look on his face.. "My mother, as much as I love her, she's not exactly the hot chocolate and smore's type. Although to be fair, she did make it a few times for Stefan and me... Store bought is mediocre at best compared to this," she finishes and swallows down what's left in her mug.

There's still so much to be said but strangely it doesn't scare him, he's looking forward to do it. Suddenly he realizes … maybe she'll spend the night? Is that what she meant by "she has time"? He doesn't even have a bottle of champagne for a new year's toast.

As it often happens to him with Elena, words flow freely from his mouth without his permission. "I'm sorry I don't have any champagne, I usually prefer bourbon... I wasn't going to celebrate, I just...," he trails off, he has no idea what she finds so amusing?

"You know I can handle my liquor but if you want tradition...," she pulls a bottle of Moet and Chandon Rose' Imperial out of her bag. "Rich hints of pastry cream and smoky mineral underscore flavors of strawberry preserves, orange zest and ground ginger in this lightly mouthwatering rosé Champagne," she reads off the label.

He shakes his head. With her glancing down at the bottle, he wasn't able to read her lips. Standing up, she walks over and points it out. "Sounds really good."

"It does. Do you want to put it in the fridge to chill so it's ready for our midnight toast?"

He's impressed. And indescribably happy. Suddenly he feels the need to pinch himself, to prove he's not immersed in some kind of beautiful dream. Taking the bottle from her, he practically floats to the kitchen. If he has fallen through the looking glass, he's going to enjoy it while it lasts. And deal with the consequences later.

"You have a Christmas tree!" her child like enthusiasm conjures up a smile on his face. It's still a few hours before midnight and he's giving her a tour, the one she was promised the day Rebekah called her, effectively ending their date. He set up the tree in his room, the largest in the house. Because of that, he decided to use it both as his bedroom and his study, hence the reason he spends most of his time there.

"Ric insisted. He and Jenna got a couple of permits, he chopped one down for their house and one for mine. And..."

"And?" she prompts when his voice starts to trail off. She seems so... eager to find out what's on his mind and once again he can't deny her, not when he looks into those eyes. Her iris is a large stain of wood and ebony pigments… Its size gives them a sense of innocence and purity. There is some sort of goodness in them, which tells him that no matter what she does, their intention will never carry even a hint of malevolence. If he looks closely enough, he's sure that all the mysteries that are hidden in the deep beds of her big brown eyes will eventually be revealed.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, he drops his eyes for just a moment before returning them to her. "I think... Aw hell, Elena, I hoped you would stop by over the holidays... and I'd get to show you how I live."

Regret.

That's the most prominent feeling she becomes aware of. But still there's more. Looking into his eyes she steps closer, cups his face and gives him back what she had taken from him.

Hope.

Raising up on her tiptoes, she gives him the lightest of kisses, her lips making sure his eyes stay on them.

"I don't want to be your friend, Damon...," she admits. "I've had time to really look at my life. That was I guess you could call it... my escape plan. The way I've been living my life, avoiding any and all possible complications, doesn't work anymore. Not after meeting you. I want to be free to explore this thing between us..."

She's not there yet but he can help her and she wants to try. It works like a charm because he doesn't waste another minute and earnestly drops his mouth to hers, their kiss soon deepening, becoming passionate and intense...

She surprises him when her small hands slip under his t-shirt and he realizes she's just as impatient to get as close to him as he is to her. Soon, he's short of breath and bends his head down to bury his face in her shoulder, pushing the neckband out of the way in the process. Only moments later, he can feel vibrations in her chest as she's keeping him closer and he's positive she's making the small noises he always imagined hearing from his beloved.

That's when it strikes him.

He can't hear her.

Being with a woman, not hearing her, never bothered him... till now.

But he can't hear her.

He will never get to hear her voice, the sound of her laugh, her sighs when they make love.

But he will get to make love to her, he's sure now. And he'll will watch the changes and emotions on her face, feel her touches on his skin and the fell of hers under his fingertips when he explores every inch of her body.

He raises his head to look at her, to ask her if she really wants to, but he doesn't need to say the words. He can see the answer to his unspoken question in the calm look she's giving him.

His bed is just a few steps away.

For the first time in his life he's nervous. It's crippling, the fear of the unknown. Because he's not about to make love to any girl, this is the one he wants not only to make her feel happy but also loved and safe...

He's worried to touch her, to kiss her... and he's aware he's overthinking things but he can't help it. He feels like the kid that became the booby prize in a teenage girl's lost bet.

They're about to make love for the first time and he's a pathetic bundle of nerves...

"Close your eyes," she whispers out of nowhere and it gives him shivers. For too long his eyes have also been his ears. If he closes them, he will find himself in complete darkness, his senses closed. But it's Elena and he trusts her. His eyelids slowly fall closed and he's deprived of another of his senses. It takes a moment and then... Her lips softly touch his face, trailing a path along his jaw, the tip of her nose turning his days grown stubble against the soft skin.

He can almost hear the scratching.

It takes a minute, or hours before her mouth covers his, her tongue comes out to play, wetting his parched lips. He doesn't open his eyes, but his hand weaves itself into her hair, while the other brings her closer. She gasps at the unexpected move, but he won't let her pull away.

"No," he whispers, at least he thinks it was a whisper, still keeping his eyes closed. Somehow, she's closer this way, she's a part of him. He can feel her movement, he can almost smell her skin and taste her on his tongue. Or at least he can imagine that... She's like a water for his thirsty heart and he gets to drink her in.

She's taking her time helping him out of his clothes. His uneasiness slowly vanishes and it doesn't take long for him to take the initiative and start peeling off her own. His eyes wide open now, he's sure he's never seen such beauty. She eases onto her back, looking up at him, not seductively but she's not shy either.

She lets him devour her with his eyes.

Her long smooth legs, the supple curve of her hip, her perfect breasts and slender neck... he could get lost in that ethereal sight.

"I can't believe you're here. With me." Barely whispered words he needs to share.

"I can't believe you don't see how precious you are," she whispers back, although the sound is just for her own ears. It makes her want to cry, but she doesn't. She wants to make him happy, to show him his true value. It will take time. But she can do little by little.

Is that a blush?

Damon's not sure what is it that she sees in him but he's not going to question it. He's done analyzing. He lets go of all his doubts, worries and lets his instincts take over. Covering her body with his, he can feel her adjust, welcome his weight and hold him close. She tenses for just a moment when he moves against her. Quickly she moves to reassure him they're on the same page by drawing him to her, in her. And then they're moving together, their bodies wrapped in the oldest of dances. Elena keeps her lips touching his ear for him to feel her ragged breaths, his sighs and moans like music to her own. And when they stop, both shaking in one perfect moment, she buries her face in the crook of his arm wetting it in the process. He gets to kiss her tears away.

Somehow he knows they're not a bad thing.

Some time later, they're lying on their sides, facing, arms wrapped around each other. Damon's fingertips caress her arm and shoulder as he's trying to ground himself, comprehend if this really happened. He's never been one to cuddle, no girl has ever meant that much but with her, he quickly finds out that's what he's been missing.

In his whole life, he's never begun to experience this kind of contentment.

She raises her head to look at him, eyes misty from the afterglow and gives him the sweetest of smiles.

'How are you feeling?' she mouths without letting the words sound but he doesn't know that.

He wants to tell her, how incredibly happy and shaken he is but it gets stuck in his throat.

Seeing the emotion in his eyes, she brings her index finger to his lips liberating him from the need to answer.

She understands.

How is it possible, that such a beautiful, strong, understanding, generous, inspiring and brave woman is here, in his bed, looking at him like he is the answer to all her wishes and caring enough to want to know his as well? She wraps her arms around his neck to bring him closer, demanding his full attention.

And bossy too...

Tomorrow, he'll tell her about his nightmares, about the woman so in love with her man, that an awkward, disabled kid was just a nuisance, an unwelcome reminder of what she once lost.

But today is all theirs. To kiss, to make love, to share, to be together.

Best New Year's ever.

Fin...

If it feels to you like things were left unsaid, pasts left hidden, secrets kept, you may find the answers you're looking for in: "Somewhere Only We Know" when we return...

We are going to take a break from fan fiction. We have no other multi-chapter stories written and ready to post. We have plans for not only the next part of this story but also 'Waiting For a Star to Fall', 'Cold Wind to Valhalla', 'Don't Fall In Love With a Dreamer' among others. I don't know how long we'll be gone but we will return. We're not ready to say goodbye to Elena and Damon just yet... As some of you probably already know, Eva and I like to have our stories complete or nearly complete before we post them. That way you always get a to read a story with a beginning and an ending...

The Delena fandom is the best, you've all shown us such support and kindness. I truly have no words that can properly express how grateful we are, Eva and I.

Chapter title: 'The Composer' by Diana Ross.

With all of the above said, we do have one more holiday one-shot to post, it's called 'The Toy Master'. It's the story of an orphaned girl, Hope and her uncle Elijah, a master toymaker. Oh and Damon and Elena are there somewhere too. Christmas is a magical season after all... ;)

I hope 2019 will be an exceptional year for each and everyone of you and that some if not all of your dreams come true. With all our love, Goodbye for now.