A/N : This fiction is dedicated to my lovely doll xthesebonesx who challenged me to write a Daroline One Shot based on Sara Bareilles' song "Between the Lines". I didn't really do what she asked me to, but this is what came to me as I listened to the beautiful song over and over again. I hope you like it, K. !

Please review, and if you have any suggestions as to One Shot ideas, feel free to inbox me !

Those Three Words

Leaning against the window that opened on the private beach, dressed in an elegant yet simple outfit that meticulously followed the trends, Caroline Forbes was the perfect illustration of the phrase girl next door, although she possessed the beauty to be much more. Her loose blonde curls were perfectly sunbathed, her unmarked skin effectively enhanced by just the right amount of makeup. But her face bore the traces of painful melancholy, so much so that she was neither to die for, nor extraordinarily plain. She looked as if she'd been magically brought out of a romantic comedy, and she was excruciatingly aware of it.

She turned away from the window, and her eyes fell on the only frame she had kept in the house. She took in a deep breath; the image of his face never failed to dig a hole inside her chest. She missed him more than words could say; with every breath she took, she longed for his presence. This is what you've made of your life, Caroline. Well done. How did we come to this?

As she got into her car to drive to the airport, her mind took her back to the moment it all started …

It began in a very fairy tale-like manner.

There was a monster, there was a witch. There were innocent victims that the villain pushed around and threatened incessantly. The villain seemed indestructible, and as time went by, the chances of putting an end to the misery of Mystic Falls became rather slight. However, as you'd expect in any good fairy tale, the witch found a way when there was none. The ones standing in line with the villain changed allegiance and joined forces with the victims, and next thing he knew, Lord Niklaus the Hybrid was being burnt to ashes as punishment for his lack of repentance and repeated amoral actions.

The death of the villain obviously had a tremendous impact on the life of his victims. His very existence posed a threat to the expected oh-so-epic love story, and so, as the last flames extinguished themselves, the hero and heroine exchanged a glance that undeniably marked that their love, just like the phoenix, would rise from its ashes. In this precise fairy tale, while it was very clear that Elena assumed the posture of the heroine, and Bonnie that of the fairy godmother, one could have legitimately wondered about the identity of the hero. Well, Elena made a final choice when her eyes fell on Stefan.

And that was it. The happily ever after.

Two of them, however, were undeniable proof that this was no fairy tale. Relegated to the shadows were Damon and Caroline, the anti-hero and the faithful best friend, standing shoulder to shoulder in the grief of having lost love. She, at least, could hold onto the fact that Tyler had died loving her. The other vampire wasn't as lucky, and he watched as his brother and the woman who owned his heart walked away from the battlefield, hand in hand, already enclosed in a world of their own, oblivious to any reality that was not the other.

As she shyly slid her hand into Damon's, Caroline wondered if she'd ever be able to believe in fairy tales again.

LAX came sixth in the worldwide ranking of airports, in terms of traffic. People from all over the world incessantly came and went, taking off to faraway, exotic lands, rushing to be reunited with their significant other, being taken away from their time-consuming job for a family vacation. This hot afternoon of July was no exception to the rule, and, as a thousand passengers gathered to board the next flight to Atlanta, she hesitated. After all, they had never officially set a date for this.

Although in all of her immortal glory, very few things could physically harm her, Caroline Forbes did find the happiness of others impossible to endure, for her own heart had been aching constantly over the last three hundred and sixty four days, and had a very good chance of irremediably breaking in the next hours. Being close to solar, smiling, affectionate people was more than she could bear, and for a moment, she considered going back home. But glimpses of the past kept her feet firmly planted on the ground.

They had to start writing their own story as their friends carried on with their lives. Neither was strong enough to do it on his own, and they quickly found that the only way to achieve anything was to seek help from the other. It was the nature of this much needed help that was hard to figure out.

They spent hours sitting face to face in front of the fireplace at the boarding house, in a silence so deafening that they ended up finding it oppressive. They spent afternoons timidly exchanging nonsensical words about the pain in their hearts, never daring to pronounce the name of the loved one, never really voicing the excruciating reality of the storm raging inside.

However, the pain didn't fade, and they didn't feel better until, one day, she burst into tears after she heard the name Tyler on whatever TV show they were not really watching. She rose from the couch and endeavored to get away from him, but the sobs were faster. Before he could think further as to how to react, his body made the decision and walked towards her. She was turning her back on him, too ashamed about her breakdown to look at him; he never broke down in front of her.

He slowly spun her around and was overwhelmed with the need to dry her tears, to take away her pain. As she hesitantly accepted the embrace he was offering, he gently grabbed her face and brought his lips to hers. Eyes wide open, she frowned at him, silently questioning his gesture. His eyes simply yelled "Trust me", and he pressed their mouths together again, and again, and again, shushing her when she tried to protest.

The sixth time, she kissed back, and the very remote impression of warmth was enough to turn a comfort kiss into something much hungrier, needier. How did they not think about this earlier? Only love could heal this pain. The help they needed from each other was just that: love. Not in the romantic sense, but in the form of tender gestures, affectionate smiles, softhearted words. Yes, they needed love.

She stopped crying only when he took her by the hand, brought her to his bedroom, undressed her and made love to her.

Back in Los Angeles, Caroline sighed. That particular memory had a bittersweet taste; it had been the beginning of something beautiful, but the beginning of another heartbreak. Somehow, that kiss was the reason why she was standing alone in this airport, nervously staring at the Departures screen, wondering if she should board the next flight to Atlanta and get back to Mystic Falls. To him.

That kiss had triggered so many drastic changes in her life that she often wondered if it wouldn't have been better to push Damon away, like she had intended to. She internally snorted; it was everything but a choice at the time. Her heart was bleeding, and while she believed only time could possibly make it better, he proved her wrong. She had already been through so much; why would she have denied herself a little comfort? You can't break a broken heart, so what exactly did they have to fear by getting closer? Back then, their answer had been the same: nothing. They gained warmth, comfort, support. They quickly found that it was easier to stand when the other was here to tell them everything would be alright.

And so, they had rushed into this, mimicking the postures and attitudes of a perfect couple. The pretending gave shape to their useless days, as they methodically parodied the first stages of a relationship: they awkwardly danced around each other; he offered her flowers and she got him a watch. They had candlelit dinners and late night picnics; they went to movies and spent hours just enjoying each other's company. Every time she thought about Tyler and that shadow passed over her eyes, he made love to her. Every time he glimpsed Elena kissing Stefan and his jaw clenched, she made love to him.

Somewhere between the pretending and the healing, irrefutable ties started to bind them.

Caroline smiled as other passengers threw awkward glances her way. In many more ways than just one, she and Damon were the perfect couple.

When Tyler died, she thought she would never love again. She had lost so much in this battle against Klaus: her humanity, her relationship with Matt, her father, and then Tyler. The world was nothing but a cruel, dark, scary place to her. Everybody seemed to be waiting for the moment she would lose it; everyone, except Damon.

He had managed to get her to drop the worrisome amount of black clothing that she owned by taking her shopping all around the country, never looking at his outrageous credit card bills. He had made her more acceptant of Elena and Bonnie's blundering concern, as well as Stefan's quasi-constant monitoring of her feeding habits. He had healed her, yes, in ways that she could not even understand.

And she had helped him a great deal as well, although his progress was only visible to her. His black attire was blacker than ever, but his heart had become a little less of a fortress. Unfortunately, even to open "less of a fortress", you had to hold the right key, and he never truly gave it to her. She and Damon were never a real couple; she had simply been too delusional to admit it.

On the seventh month of this "relationship", it became evident to Caroline that something needed to be done before things got out of control. She could not hold any longer; she had to tell him.

They were lying in bed, their legs affectionately tangled, in the silent moment before lovemaking when they'd simply stare at each other and let the anticipation build. As she stared deep into his eyes, he let his fingertips trace the contours of her face and caress her lips. She struggled to keep her breathing steady and her heart rate increased when his touches grew more insistent.

Silence was part of the ritual, but she gathered the courage to break it.

"We have to stop," she said (like she often did lately), half a second before his lips crashed to hers.

He gave her one of those toe-curling kisses that she could never resist, and swiftly got on top of her when she failed to suppress a sigh of pleasure. She unwillingly locked her ankles behind his back, crushing their bodies together. Damn her reflexes.

"But we're just getting started," he teased with that irresistible Damon pout.

Caroline giggled softly as his mouth left smoldering kisses along her collarbone, and Damon intensified his ministrations. She giggled only in his presence; the sound belonged to him, now. It was the tangible proof that they were bound by ties that nobody else could understand.

"Damon," she protested (a little weakly, but still). "Stop it, I want to talk."

He simply hummed dismissively and smirked against her skin, sensing that she would soon forget whatever serious matter she had on her mind. She always forgot about everything when they were skin to skin; it felt natural to find himself in this position with her. So natural that it kept amazing him that it took them entire months to figure it out.

"I love you, Damon," she said in a shaky breath.

Damon froze. Well, that was unexpected.

As he tried to glance at her, Caroline snapped her eyes shut. Love was never part of the plan, but he was her lifeline; she would have drowned without him, right then and there at Tyler's funeral. But she hadn't, because he was here to hold on to her, endure her wrath, and wipe away her tears. He got her flowers and told her she was pretty when everything the others worried about was whether or not she was done grieving Tyler.

Was it so bad that she fell in love with him? Could he really blame her for this? Would he stop seeing her and let her drown?

She heard him swallow and kept her eyes closed. Impact in four…three…two…one…

When nothing happened, she opened her eyes, only to be faced with a smiling Damon Salvatore. She frowned.

"I- I love you," she repeated, willing to make sure that he had heard her.

His smile did not falter. He looked into her eyes and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Me too," he whispered before kissing her again.

Her confession of love and the way he had reacted to it should have gotten her a little curious. Usually, Caroline Forbes was queen of details; she overanalyzed things so much that most of the times, they ended up making no sense at all. But he had said "me too" and he had made love to her with a passion she had hardly felt before; it was enough to mute the doubts. She could see now that it was inevitable that things ended the way they did.

The news of Stefan and Elena breaking up had left him completely unaffected; while she had prepared herself to be alone again while he would try to win Elena's heart like he had always wanted to, he had surprised her. He had asked her to take Elena on a weekend, somewhere sunny; he had even paid for the plane tickets. And while the girls were getting massages in Hawaii, he had spent time with his brother, for the first time in too long. She had been incredibly proud of him, although the weekend probably involved more alcohol and strippers that she cared to know.

She snapped back to reality when a child bumped into her and mumbled an apology. She smiled benevolently at him and led him back to his mother, her heart aching at the sight of what she would never have. That was what her life was like, now. She constantly grieved for something: kids, wrinkles, love. There were just too many things that life had taken away from her; she couldn't just let it happen again. She had to take that plane and get her life back. She had to. Being in this airport in itself was an argument in favor.

Damon surprised her again when he decided to move from Mystic Falls permanently, and asked her to come with him. That had been one of the most heartwarming moments of her entire life. Having always been a small town girl, she couldn't think of anything more exciting; he just happened to own a beach house in Los Angeles, and she thought she would die from excitement when he suggested they should settle there, to rebuild themselves, away from the place that held so many bad memories for the two of them.

And so, they moved to the luxurious villa that she now called her home. She had probably lived her best moments there. Better than falling in love with Matt, more fulfilling than helping Tyler through his werewolf transformations; in that house, with Damon, she had learnt what it truly meant to be free. Before that, she existed with those chains around her; chains so omnipresent that she didn't even notice them anymore. He had set her free.

It was okay that she wanted to be a broadcast journalist; it was okay that she could not have children. It didn't matter that she was from a Founding Family, or that her best friends were a witch and a doppelganger. The world couldn't care less about her being a vampire, because, seriously, that was the least important problem in LA. She could be anyone. He had even told her she could change her name if she wanted to; cut her hair, dye it black, whatever. He opened her eyes to the endless possibilities that she had.

And they had started a new life, just like he had said they would. A normal, happy life. Sometimes, when he took her to a fancy premiere or when they watched the sunset from their balcony, she forgot that they had a past, or a future. She simply enjoyed the moment, right there, with him.

She became who she had always wanted to be; a smart, outgoing, expansive young journalist. He, on the other hand, take a fancy in photography and spent countless hours taking snapshots of her, that he exposed all around the house. They fought over the telephone bill and her incessant shopping sessions, argued about how he couldn't stop himself from doing his well-known "eye thing" to the first bitch he met and had a lot of make-up sex.

Their life was perfect.

Not once did she think that maybe he was just running from Elena.

When she got home from the beach that day, she found Damon, an apron tied around his waist, bent over the stove, cooking whatever filled the house with a heavenly scent. This was one of the things she had grown used to since they decided to leave Mystic Falls. Seriously, when did those things happen in real life, to real people? Never. However, in the life of Caroline Forbes, this was just another scene of ordinariness; and yet, she sensed that something was wrong.

It wasn't the way he greeted her; he was as affectionate as ever. He even bothered to let his eyes roam over her still wet body, and gave her one of his trademark smirks. He teased her about all the men who had probably looked at her all afternoon and said he would just go on the beach and kill them all. He let her smell the sauce for the pasta, and even made her taste it on his finger.

A scene of ordinariness.

Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. It was not something quite tangible, but it gnawed at her all evening. She finally got her answer when, after dinner, she started doing the dishes. (Yes, she now did the dishes). He said something about Elena calling him earlier, to say that she had made a mistake. She wanted to be with him.

She imperceptibly blinked. Of course, this was about Elena.

Caroline didn't say a word. She dropped the plate she had been washing for the last five minutes, took off the gloves and put her hand on her hip. Such a Caroline thing to do. A smile slowly crept up Damon's face.

"What's so funny?" she snapped at him.

"You're jealous," he observed. "Cute."

"What did you say to her?" she said shyly.

"I'm meeting her in Vegas tomorrow for the wedding."

She threw the dish towel at him, and he swiftly ducked it. He laughed his quiet laugh that she loved, the one that he laughed only in her presence. She refused to let it tame her anger; who did Elena think she was? She had broken Damon. She had torn his heart away from his chest in the same way that Katherine had, while claiming that she was better than her ancestor. She had chosen Stefan. She had chosen to give up on Damon and live a fairy tale. She had no right to run back to him because Prince Charming turned out to be not so charming. It was unfair to both brothers.

It was a secret for no one that Damon and Caroline had moved to LA to start over, together. That made them a couple, right? So, technically, she had every right to be pissed. She decided to finish the dishes and go to bed before this turned into a fight. She didn't want to fight with him, but the fact that the girl he once loved so much (and maybe still loved) wanted to have a chance with him was precisely the kind of thing that would start a fight, right?

Damon cleared his throat, visibly expecting a reaction from her. He walked towards her slowly and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, although she did struggle against him for a second.

"And you felt the need to tell me this, why?" she mumbled.

He dropped a kiss on her cheek.

"Because I tell you everything," he simply said.

"Because you love me?" she whispered.

It was beyond ridiculous that she was fishing for it, but the Hell with dignity. He was the only one she could rely on, and if she was going to lose him to Elena, she wanted to know right this second, because it would take time for her to be ready to let go of him. Maybe if Tyler was still alive, she would consider giving up on what she and Damon had built, so she couldn't decently blame him if he decided to give Elena a chance.

He made her face him and kissed her softly.

"Yes, I do," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

He had lied. Of course, he had not run back to Mystic Falls to Elena, but a part of him wasn't there with her anymore. At first, she was very satisfied with the fact that he lied; she even interpreted this as his own twisted way to protect her.

It was a lovely disguise: all the flowers, the sweet nothings he whispered in her ear when she pretended to be asleep; the unconcerned look on his face whenever she mentioned Elena. It was so unlike him that she started to bring her former friend into the conversation more and more often, simply to observe his reactions. She also very much enjoyed that he felt the obligation to make her shut up with kisses, her back against the wall, his body lost within hers; honestly, she did, but she saw behind the mask. The bleeding heart behind the blue eyes.

There was something there, something that he was trying to hide from her, but also from himself. Something that had haunted her every night since Elena had called. On the rare occasions when he pronounced her name, it sounded familiar in a way that she could have sworn she'd heard him say it ten thousand times. If only she had been listening, she would have known.

How many times had he given her evasive answers to her I love you's? How many times had he answered "I do", or "Me too", or "Of course, darling" when she told him she loved him? It was all she asked for, for him to approve. She knew he was not the expansive type, so it didn't seem like a big deal that he never actually said the words, but with the standard shift of perception that came with the passing of time, she became more and more aware of the truth.

He couldn't say the words to her, because the last time he had said those words, it had been to Elena. And if he couldn't bring himself to offer them to another woman, it was because, in his heart, they still belonged to Elena. The minute this realization washed over her, she simply couldn't continue pretending. She picked fights with him about virtually everything, hoping that one day, he'd explode and tell her to piss off because he was in love with someone else. Something was broken.

And so, she demanded that they moved back to Mystic Falls, on the grounds that she missed being around her mother, but also that Mystic Falls was their home, and that they couldn't be 100% sure that they had successfully moved on until they got back there. As he never denied her anything, they packed and went back "home".

Caroline laughed; she couldn't imagine how he had possibly endured her. She was insufferable; she was jealous, snooped through his stuff, and turned the slightest disagreement into a loud argument that usually ended up with her slamming doors. But he hadn't told her to piss off, and he certainly hadn't told her that he was in love with someone else. He held on to her, because he needed her; she was the safe bet. He needed stability and there was zero chance of her breaking his heart. It had nothing to do with love.

She sighed; she had to let go of those memories. They belonged the past, and today, she had the firm intention of starting to focus on the future. When she heard the last call for the passengers boarding the flight to Atlanta, she took a deep breath and joined the line.

It ended in a very movie-like manner.

"It's over," she simply said.

He didn't need to look very much into her use of the pronoun "it". His jaw dropped, as though she had unexpectedly slapped him, but she refused to acknowledge the hurt surprise in his cerulean eyes. What did I do? Where is this coming from? The thoughts that must have been forming in his mind were as audible to her as if they had been bound by a telepathic connection, which, obviously, they were not.

There had been numerous forerunners, and frowns, and icy stares and loud huffs; she had rung the alarm more times than she could remember, but he had become an expert in the art of fooling himself, and he had methodically eluded her questions, kissed away her doubts. She could not endure it any longer.

"You're leaving?" he asked incredulously as he noticed a few suitcases by the door.

"Yes," she informed politely, fighting the tears. "I don't want to stand in your way."

She was struggling to maintain a mask of dignity, although she could not remember the last time she did something that demanded her so much effort.

Understanding finally flashed through his eyes. She was leaving the boarding house, and moving back in with her mother, because she thought he wanted to be with Elena. He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up her palm to silence him. Her resolution was too insubstantial to give him the opportunity to charm his way out of the problem once more.

"Don't make do this," he asked quietly. "It'll ruin us, you and me."

She involuntarily smiled as a single tear rolled down her face.

"We both know that 'us' was never just 'you and me', Damon."

He glanced out the window for a second and bit on his lower lip, like he always did when he needed to concentrate. She allowed herself to memorize the handsome features that she already knew by heart, wondering how long it would be until she'd see him again. He turned to face her, and the resignation in his eyes broke her heart. Her hand affectionately ruffled his raven hair, and he playfully groaned, but the seriousness resurfaced within a few seconds. He frowned and looped his strong arms around her waist.

She rested her head on his shoulder and felt her resolve flicker. She whispered in his ear – "I love you, Damon" – but he remained silent for a while, as he always did in response to those supposedly magic words.

"Me too," he eventually said, his voice suddenly shy.

His hold on her tightened, as he already knew what her next move would be.

"Yeah," she said bitterly as she broke away from him. "That's what I thought."

"Caroline," he simply said.

"I can't do this anymore," she said.

"It'll ruin us," he said once more.

"Then I'll stop holding on to something that wasn't meant to be. And if we are meant to be, you'll know when and where to find me."

Those were the last words she said to him, precisely three hundred and sixty four days ago. As the plane took off, she kept losing herself in memories. He had looked into her eyes for a long while, searching for any sign of hesitation, but finding none, he had given her a long, tender kiss. After that, she had grabbed her bags and left.

Some would say it had been the biggest mistake of her life, and she very often chastised herself for making this decision, because it had taken only two weeks for Damon to give his relationship with Elena a fair chance. Somehow, it was a relief. Elena had been a shadow above her head all this time, a shadow that she had chosen to ignore, but that had turned into the darkest cloud.

The cloud turned into a full-on thunderstorm the first time she ran into them kissing one day, as she came to the boarding house to grab some clothes. So that was how Damon felt about Stefan and Elena. She had been through dark times in her short life, she had; but this was like losing everything she had lost all over again. The failure of her relationship (had it really been a relationship, or the illusion of one?) with Damon felt like yet another broken song, another symphony that she had played out of tune.

Damon offered her the keys to his house in Los Angeles, simply so she wouldn't have to endure this. She gladly accepted them, and ran back to this place that reminded her of happiness and warmth and love. Everything felt dull about the city of Angels; everything that she did was something they used to do together, and she wondered how she would possibly get over him. How she would survive living half the live that she had known; she wondered if he felt it, too, but then she remembered that he was living his own fairy tale.

She learned to listen to the silence. She told herself the words he surely meant to say, but couldn't. She re-invented their many months together, changing the I don't get waves of missing her anymore into the It's more like, I miss her all the time, now that it really was. The People say 'I love you' all the time, it means nothing anymore into I can't open my heart to you because she's still here.

So she built her own figurative Pandora box. The tears and the smiles were there, carefully locked, safely forgotten. In the box, there was him; him and all of their moments together. She promised herself to never, under any circumstances, open the box.

But as time went by and she replayed their last conversation to herself, she started wondering what she meant when she told him he would know when and where to find her, if they were meant to be.

It was obvious to her that it hadn't all started at the boarding house, although it was where they had kissed for the first time. At least, for the first time, this time around. Surprisingly enough, she easily forgot that once upon a time, when she was nothing but a fragile, human cheerleader, he had abused her.

It was proof that she was still an incorrigible optimist, who believed in romance and grand gestures. That was why she was on this plane right now; because if there was a little chance, however slight, that he could come back to her, then she had to seize it.

She was scared; more scared that she had ever been. She had run for an entire year, singing to herself the melody of those memories. But she was done running, now. Today, she would either begin the rest of eternity in his arms, or find an Original and have him compelled away from her heart and mind.

Caroline's heart broke in a million pieces as she watched the sun go down the horizon. Coming back was a mistake, just like leaving had been one. She suspected she would find herself alone in those woods, just as alone as she had been for the past year. The worst was that she only had herself to blame; she hadn't called to say she was coming, just like she hadn't even called to ask how he was, in at least six months.

The real question was: what could have possibly possessed her to throw the man she loved in the arms of another woman? Of course, Elena would make Damon happy; he had always loved her, while he had never loved her. He just needed her to turn the darkness into light, to make him believe that he could be loved. Deep down inside, she wanted to find the strength to be happy for him. Her love for him was so deep, so sincere, that she should be able to rejoice. But she was not.

"You've cut your hair. I like it."

She gasped at the distinctive sound of his voice: deep, smooth, masculine. In a word, Damon. It resonated inside of her. She took a deep breath and spun around slowly. He was leaning against a tree, ever the breathing image of casual. His hair was still as black as night, but a little longer. His eyes shone with that glint she hadn't seen in a long while; she smiled at him, running a hand through her shorter hair. She felt flattered that he had noticed, since only a few inches were missing.

"You haven't shaved," she said. "I like it."

Is this really the first thing you said to him in a year? He gave her a smirk that made her insides curl.

"You always said it was my most attractive look."

How she'd missed that arrogance of his. She knew she probably shouldn't rush things, but she ran towards him and threw her arms around his shoulders. He immediately returned the embrace. The reality of his arms around her waist made her heart swell.

"Damon," she said in a breath. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here, Barbie," he whispered, his lips close to her ear.

She shivered uncontrollably, but immediately took a step back, regaining composure. She had so many questions, so many things that she wanted him to know; she couldn't let him distract her with all of his sexiness. She only realized how much she had missed him now that he was just inches away from her and she had to concentrate to maintain this distance between them. She cleared her throat and pointed out that he didn't live in the woods.

"I come here every now and then, to – think," he said with a shrug.

The truth was that he came here every week to think about her. To wonder where she was, what she did. If she was in Los Angeles alone, or if there was someone there with her, in his house. He was actually stunned to find her there, but he didn't want to look it. He had rehearsed this conversation many times, and he had at least a dozen sentences ready for her. Romantic statements, funny jokes at his own expense, heated words in case she was unmoved by the previous two categories. But now that she was here, with her lovely blue eyes and silky hair, he couldn't remember a single one of them.

"I miss you," he confessed.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't let the emotion take over. It was as if they had never been apart; the way he talked to her, with as much tenderness as he did before, the way his eyes caressed her skin. It was all too much for her to handle, and in this moment, she realized that she was never ready for this. But hey, she was here to know if there was still a chance for them, and so, she should find out.

"What does have to Elena say about this?" she snapped.

Damon smiled and noticed that she took a step back every time he took a step towards her. She was going to make him fight for it, and he hadn't been expecting anything else from her. He had abandoned her to run back to a relationship he knew was bound to fail, and she had let him, because she loved him. In a sense, he had done to her exactly what Elena had done to him when she chose Stefan, and it wouldn't be a surprise if she told him to just fuck off. He deserved it.

"Well?" she pushed. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Elena's fine," he said.

There was something off about the way the name rolled off his tongue. Not like before, when he was doing his best to avoid it, but not like when, back to the whole Klaus thing, he was madly in love with her friend. She wondered what had changed; maybe their relationship was in a better place, now. A place where he felt safe enough to put the longing behind him.

"She understands that you and I have a history together," he added.

"Perfect, that girlfriend of yours," she snorted.

He gave her a coy smile. Her jealousy was boiling under her skin and he felt incredibly pleased; it meant she still cared for him, deep down. But he was Damon, and he simply couldn't resist the urge to tease her a little.

"Yeah, she's great. She fixes whatever I break. When I get angry and say words that I don't mean, she's composed. I forget things, but she always remembers. She's…"

"Yeah, perfect, I know," Caroline said sadly. "Who am I to compete with perfection, uh?"

"You're an idiot," Damon said softly.

However, such affectionate inflexions colored his voice that she had the good sense not to be offended. She'd have a few complains about being called an idiot, especially after he described to her how another woman – one of her best friends – was perfect, but it didn't seem like the right time, so she stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

"You're an idiot, for letting me run back to her. At least, she tried to get me back when she felt I was slipping away."

She snorted and held back the "Tell me about it" that she desperately wanted to say. She was still very unsure of how this conversation would turn out, and she didn't want to put herself out there unless she was sure he would take her back. What was his point, anyway? To demonstrate in detail that Elena was perfect and she was an idiot? She got the fucking memo, thank you very much. However, she couldn't bring herself to stop him. She needed someone to tell her those things.

"You're an idiot because you're annoyingly selfless and you care too much for too many people."

"Excuse me, jackass, but this is a quality," she snapped, causing him to chuckle. "You weren't so pissed about it when I cared for you."

She intentionally emphasized the use of the past tense, and it didn't go unnoticed, but his smile widened. He took a step towards her, and this time, she didn't budge. If looks could kill, he'd probably be dead by now.

"Also, you have a terrible temper. You're just as angry as I am about everything, and you yell even louder than I do," he said in a whisper. "Why the Hell did you leave me, Care?"

His question visibly surprised her. She hesitated for a moment, but decided to tell him everything; this way, she would be able to forget afterwards.

"We got together out of grief, okay? We fooled ourselves into believing that we had a relationship, and we built a life together, and it was everything I've ever wanted, but you never said 'I love you', Damon," she explained. "You needed me, but all along, you were in love with Elena and it would have been cruel to hold you back."

"See? Annoyingly selfless. Besides, you said 'I love you'," he objected. "You're not supposed to let me go after you say something like that."

Tears began to form in the corner of her eyes, and he took another step towards her. They were now standing an inch apart from each other and she had trouble holding his gaze. He was right; it was a mistake to let him go. She nodded to show him she approved, and finally met his eyes. She had almost forgotten how blue they were. Her heart almost stopped when he cupped her face and rested his forehead against hers.

"Your giggles. The way you called every girl I looked at a "bitch". Or…the strawberry taste of your lip gloss, or the faint smell of honey in your hair because of your damn expensive shampoo," he enumerated. "Those sensations were associated with an illusion of happiness at first, it's true, but then, they became happiness. And you took that away from me, because you felt like I had doubts."

"You had doubts, Damon," she said. "What's the point in lying about it now? You don't owe me anything."

Damon lowered his head just a little, and almost brushed his lips against hers. She froze, unable to think, and she thought she would just stop breathing right then and there when he said quietly: You're the one I want. Caroline frowned. Those were the words she'd always dreamed of hearing from his mouth and yet, something was off about this situation. She took a step back, but remained close enough to keep his hands on her face.

"But Elena," she protested. "You and Elena…"

"Me and Elena are done," he said. "I realized it was a mistake two months after you moved back to LA."

Her jaw dropped and she stared at him, profoundly dumbfounded; this time, she broke away from him completely. He had been single for ten months? Anger got the best of her and she started yelling at him, letting go of so much frustration and pain.

"Why didn't you – you, you jackass, you didn't say anything all this time! Do you have any idea of what it was like, for me, imagining you with her while I was alone in our house, crying over a relationship we'd never have? Do you have any idea?"

He was surprisingly calm; he even let her pummel his chest with her tiny fists. Actually, this was everything he had ever wanted; her anger stroked his ego.

"I imagined you with other men, too," he informed. "I imagined you laughing to their jokes and falling asleep in their arms. I imagined you in bed with them. It hurt like Hell."

"So why the Hell didn't you call? Or, I don't know, email me, send me a fucking letter, an owl, something!"

He smiled. She was still so young and impatient; that was one of the things he liked about her.

"We're vampires, Blondie," he said. "We have all the time in the world, no need to rush."

"This is a dumb excuse, you know."

His smile turned into an actual grin. He laughed, and the sound paralyzed her, because it was her laugh. A wave of warmth enveloped her from head to toe. She didn't push him away when he wrapped his arms around her, this time. He gently cupped her face with both hands (again), and he seemed pleased to feel her shiver. Again.

"Why did you come here today, Care?" he said.

"I – I, erm, I don't know," she lied; he just smiled.

"Okay, I'll tell you why," he offered. "You came here today, to hear me say that I have been the biggest idiot of all time by letting you leave," he said. "And also because you want me to tell you how much I want you back."

"Why are you telling me, now?" she questioned. "Why aren't you being cryptic like you always are? What if I hadn't been here today? Would you have called? Or is just because you and Elena are done, and you're lonely and just – "

He laughed frankly and shook his head in disbelief.

"Please, shut up," he said lightly. "I've been waiting for you to show up forever, so let me do my thing."

She laughed a little, and tears of emotions filled her eyes. Comic relief was such a Damon thing; she had missed his innate ability to turn any situation into something funny. She looked deep into his eyes, and let herself fall head over heels when he brought his lips to hers and kissed her. She held on to him, her hands losing themselves in his raven hair, as his lips danced across hers.

"I love you, Caroline Forbes," he breathed. "I love you. I love you."

The smile across her lips was there to hide the words she couldn't say.

"I love you, too, idiot."

As they walked back to the boarding house hand in hand, Caroline knew that she wouldn't have to believe in fairy tales anymore, because she'd be too busy living one.

Fin.