Chapter 12: Without A Word

A/N: Hello best readers ever! Alrighty guys, here it is: the final chapter. Thank you all so much for reading! The response has been nothing short of overwhelming, and I'm so grateful, for everything. Love to all.

None of this story would be possible without Trogdor19, who requested and inspired me to write this, encouraged me, laughed and cried with me, and has been my rock through every word. She beta'd this chapter along with many others, and I dedicate this entire fiction to her. No one does it better than she does.

Episode point of reference: We are still in non-canon land, now into the morning of what would be 4x03. Enjoy!

DAMON POV

Without A Word

I hear the pull of a zipper and my eyes open to daylight.

The other half of my bed is empty, the sheets tangled and mussed. They're speckled with a few splatters of our blood, a long brown hair clinging to the pillow that she slept on.

I let my other senses search for her, comforted by the simple knowledge that she's still somewhere in my room.

I breathe deep and I can smell her on the air, the dim trace of her shampoo a flawless balm for all that wants to ache.

I listen, immediately more calm at hearing the slow rhythm of her pulse drifting towards me.

I want to say her name and call her back to bed, but I can't. We're no longer alone. I can just make out the faint shuffling of feet coming from Stefan's bedroom.

I wonder if that's what woke her up, if she heard him come in.

I hope that's what it was, not that she was already leaving me while I was still asleep. I pinch my eyes shut and try to swallow my pain. She has every right to sneak out without a word. She agreed to stay, but she never said how she'd go.

I make myself re-open my eyes. I can't break yet. She's still here.

I peek further over my shoulder and it takes everything I have to control the groan that's trying to pour out of me. Lovely, beautiful, sexy and sensual Elena is standing at the foot of my bed. Her top half is bare, the long line of her spine lazily seducing me.

I let my eyes fall down toned and olive skin, stopping at the sight of her jeans resting snugly around the widest part of her hips. My perfect vision tells me they're a little looser on her right side than her left, slightly frayed from where I ripped them. Another groan swallowed and I can't remember my mouth ever being this dry.

I roll to my side and prop my head up so I can watch her, wishing like hell there was some deal-with-the-devil I could make so that I could wake up to this view every morning. I'd make it, no questions asked. I've been alive 170 years and I know it doesn't get any better than this.

I can't help but smile to myself as she shifts her weight and buttons her pants, her delightful little ass waving me good morning. I'm rewarded for my silent observation as she stretches; her right hand circling her left wrist as she raises her arms above her head, rolling her neck and lengthening her back and highlighting the supple curves of her waist.

I'm behind her before she even notices I'm awake. There's no fucking way I can be expected to maintain my distance when she's so soft and wonderfully topless, dressing in my bedroom in the hazy hours when everything is sensitive and still. And how am I supposed to restrain myself from touching her when she's glowing in the dawn that's coming in through my windows? Not possible.

My hands circle around to her stomach as my tongue finds her shoulder and I don't know how it's possible but every time I taste her, it just gets better. Her body holds some enchanting kind of magic and I'm completely fascinated.

I'll never get tired of the surprises that it keeps giving me and nothing has shocked me about a woman's body in longer than I can remember. I know all there is to know about how to glorify the fairer sex, but Elena is different and it's all new. I don't want to know anything, anyone else, ever again.

There is no one but her that could ever make me feel like this, so confident and unsure and this euphoric that I'm both. That's what it is to live on the edge, to know that you could fall either way at the slightest tilt. I'm fine with the plunge on either side, but I try to never lose the balance. That's where the sweet spot lies. That's where loving Elena allows me to live.

She startles at my presence, but then instantly melts, falling back into my hold with a comfortable sigh. I rewrap her in my arms as she brings hers down in front of us and I'm never letting go. I don't care what I said. This is where she fits, where she belongs, and we both know it.

I move to her neck and tease the vein that she loves me to drink from and she gasps, not loud enough for us to get caught, but almost.

I can't speak without risking further exposure, so I don't, bringing one finger up to her lips to signal her that we need to be quiet. She gives me the slightest of nods of comprehension and I don't know what I'm more elated about: the fact that she's letting me still touch her although my night pass incinerated with the sunrise, or that she's doing it while knowing he's back and she can't bring herself to stop.

Either way, I'm instantly hard and only getting firmer as I smell her sweet arousal at my kisses and my touch.

She's not going anywhere.

My lips trail down her perfect back as I sit on the cushions at the end of my bed. I let my hands explore her while I gently bite her hip, getting her to tremble in the way I have a feeling only I can get her to do.

Usually I make her look at me whenever things get difficult between us, piercing her with a stare that I know stops her breath. I do it because it brings me relief that there's still one thing she can't control around me and that's our normal. That's where we began and always come back to; those quiet stares where we say a hundred things without a single word.

But lately when she stares back, I'm the one that loses time and reason and I'm a little too raw from this stolen existence to take her eyes right now. They are going to hold too much love, too much understanding, too many memories of how perfect we fit together. And I don't think they would look like guilt or regret, but I don't want to chance it just in case they do.

I hide as I turn her so she's facing me, hugging her waist and nuzzling my cheek against her, relishing in the smell of her skin. It still carries the aroma of our bath and my sheets, the faintest trace of my cologne sneaking in. She smells like us and I want to breathe this in as long as I can, soaking it up into me so I can forget that this isn't our reality, this isn't our normal. This is only once.

Her fingers are combing through my hair and her heartbeat is slow and steady, beautifully even. She's totally relaxed as we silently adore one another and the idea hurts and sooths, all at the same time.

Because this is it.

This is goodbye.

Most people don't get this, they aren't this lucky. Most don't have the gift of knowing when the end is coming so they can savor every second. And I know this a blessing, but it feels like a curse.

I don't know exactly what I've traded for my stolen night with her, but whatever it is, it was worth it.

She shouldn't even still be here; she should have left hours ago. I tried to stay awake with her after I carried her from the bathroom. Not speaking, just watching each other while I ran my fingers through her hair and she sleepily traced the lines on my chest.

I've never known such peace as we lay in my bed, listening to our heartbeats combine and the sounds of the night drifting in around us. But eventually her eyes fluttered closed and so did mine in the undeniable ease of having her safe and next to me.

I've never slept better, but I didn't want to miss a minute of being with her and now it's done.

He's back, daylight is bringing in the harsh truth of the choices she hasn't made and I should be letting her go.

But I can't.

There's no way I can lose her without being inside her, tasting her, one more time. I need her, now more than ever in the face of my self-inflicted nightmare.

My lips walk across her stomach and my hands learn her, trying to memorize everything about how she feels and fits. The exact size of the space between her breasts, the dips under her ribs. They need to know so they will remember the way I can fit her entire shoulder blade in the palm of my hand, how her muscles pull when she arches into my support.

I feel a tug on my hair and I concede, pulling back to look at her though I know I shouldn't. It's just going to hurt that much more.

Our gaze meets and I was right, I shouldn't have looked. She's smiling at me, but in a way that looks heartbroken, a tear slowly making its way down her cheek. I hang my head so she doesn't see, blinking to try to delete the evidence before she finds it, but it's stuck.

She tilts my face back up to her and I'm caught, her eyes focused on my traitor tear trapped in my eyelashes and my jaw locked in shame. I don't want her to witness this. I'm supposed to be stronger, strong enough. This is what I asked, for her to tear me down into nothing more than a broken thing. I'm not supposed to let her see me cry about it.

I'm almost glad we can't talk because she can't say anything. She just wipes it away gently, looking at me in empathetic understanding. Her lips press against my forehead and something inside my chest squeezes painfully. I knew this would be hard, but she's killing me with her kindness.

It would have been so much easier if she would've just run and disappeared, but she didn't. And though I'm hurting, I'm so grateful. I don't want to be angry and I don't want to be bitter. I don't want to resent her for leaving without a word and though she can't talk, she's already said so much.

I lift my chin and she comes to me, placing her mouth against mine in a kiss that is all love and tenderness and desire, desperation and defeat. That's all we are. I could spend years kissing her like this, but I can't. I don't have time and I need to hurry, this could end at any moment.

I leave her lips so I can focus on unhooking her jeans and sliding her zipper down, it doesn't make a sound. I honestly don't know how we're being so damn quiet. She was able to contain herself in the bathroom at the Grill, but I didn't realize how much she was holding in until I gave her free rein to scream last night.

I smile to myself at the memory. There's no way I could ever tire of that sound. But we have to be careful, she could reveal us just by breathing too hard. Stefan can't hear for shit thanks to his stupid animal diet, so I get the advantage there. But he is surprisingly in tune to Elena and can usually pick up on her from pretty far. Point disadvantage.

It's not going to stop me now and she's not pushing me away.

I work my hands inside her jeans, sliding them into the small space between her skin and the denim, rubbing and squeezing her hips and bottom as I separate them from their coverings. Her pants are more spandex and stretch than anything else and she has to wiggle and shimmy as I pull, helping me get them down to the tops of her thighs.

She quivers at my touch, lightly dragging my nails across her skin as I reach one arm between her legs so I have the whole top of her slender limb in my grasp. She feels so delicate under my hands, so feminine and fragile.

But she's a lot stronger than she looks. I know, because I helped train these muscles into being swift and sturdy, to kick and defend and fight. And I know how powerful they are when they're wrapped around me, pulling me into her.

My tongue greets her hip and I massage and taste her as I make my way down, revealing her an inch at a time. She grips my shoulders to steady herself as I bend her knee, cupping the back of her silky thigh and letting it rest in the palm of my hand.

She was glorious last night, letting me move and command her body in any way I pleased. She freely gave herself to me with no fear, no restraint, and I wondered if that would be over but I love that it's not. She wobbles a bit as I lift her foot just high enough that I can grab the cuff of her pants leg, pulling so it slides the rest of the way off her and letting it drop to the floor.

I turn to her other leg and repeat my movements, undressing her slowly, silently, until she's standing before me in nothing but purple lace panties. I wonder how she found them and what she thought of locating them in my jacket pocket. I snuck them in there while she was too lost in her first orgasm to notice, or at least I thought she was. Damn.

Doesn't matter, they're staying. One way or another.

I fold down the front so I can kiss her shaved skin, laying my lips just above the tiny patch of hair she left as a tease. It prickles me.

My fangs drop.

I move to her side where the fabric is thinnest, grabbing it with my teeth and pretending to fight with it, silently gnashing and shaking it before I let it pop back into place. She's shaking under silent laughter, her fingers still laced through my hair while she lets me play with her. Another reason why I love her. She's so fucking sexy and so much fun.

I flash my eyes up to her so I can give her my most devious of smiles and she matches it, a light blush rising over her breasts and up into her cheeks. She raises an eyebrow and cocks her head at me in a challenge and it's like looking in a mirror I've made this face at her so many times. But she should know better than to challenge me, because I'm gonna win.

She warned me last night not to rip them and I didn't. I was strangely obedient as I slid them down her legs while she writhed in ecstasy, though I did try to steal them. She didn't say I couldn't keep them, just that they had to remain intact.

Fuck it. She can't warn or threaten me without getting in trouble and I'm more than happy to be defiant of her silly rules. I already know all the stores I'm going to tomorrow so I can stock her top dresser drawer full of more lace; daring and sexy lingerie that I hopefully will get the pleasure of tearing off her very, very soon.

She barely moves as I swipe the tip of one fang under the band I gnawed on, slicing it apart with a snap. I'm so proud and I don't even care as I grin at her in boyish and giddy triumph, her ruined underwear falling to the floor. I wait for her to glare at me or even lightly smack me, but she just shakes her head and smiles as if she's humoring me.

I nip at her and she shivers, though she can't move away with me holding her so tight. She may be standing but she knows she's caught and she can pretend all she wants but I know how much she likes it when I'm in control. More than fine with me, there's nothing better than ruling over her body and driving it to erupt in pleasure all at my command.

I slide forward, leaving the cushions behind so I'm kneeling in front of her. If anyone could ever bring me willingly to my knees, it's the goddess before me. I hook her right leg over my shoulder and she steadies herself as I open her to me. She's still not resisting, her head falling back and arching at my touch, reveling in the feeling as I lightly drag the tip of one finger across her.

She's so wet, already silky with want. I nudge her apart so I can see her and she's smooth and luscious, pink and perfect. There's nothing on this earth more beautiful than this.

My lips circle her as I place a soft kiss to her clit, savoring her most protected gift being openly given for me to enjoy and a delectable taste that is purely Elena. I slip two fingers into her, curling and stroking the spot that I know makes her scream and just like that, she's climaxing.

She's so fucking incredible, her hand flying from my shoulder to cover her mouth, squeezing my fingers as she melts over my tongue. No one has ever come for me like she does, unable to contain herself at the slightest touch and flick.

It's so addicting to know that I can do this to her and I'd be more than happy to spend the rest of my eternity here between her legs, getting her to scream until she begs me to stop, but never releasing her because I know she still wants more.

She wants more now and I'll be damned if I deny her, especially when it comes to her wanting me inside her.

She's barely standing, supported by my hand on her hip and her leg over my shoulder, but I can tell she'd collapse if she could. No problem, I'm glad to carry her. I've done it so many times and I never get tired of supporting her feathery weight in my arms where she's enclosed in safety.

I leave her with a kiss, untangling us so I can bend her over my shoulder. She squirms as I rise, but I've got an arm locked over her legs and I'd never drop her. She should know better. I remind her with a light slap to her ass and she sucks in a breath, pinching mine back harder as I step on to the bed.

I shake my head and try to control my laugh. That's my girl, always ready to wage her own war right back at me. We're warriors she and I and it's so much fun to battle with her for dominance.

I declare supremacy as I flip her on to the bed, her back hitting my sheets and her breasts bouncing as she lands. I look over my prize with a wicked grin, her arms and hair fanned out on the pillow just above her. My inner caveman roars, ready to possess and imprint her because it knows that this is mine.

I drop to my knees, eager to claim her. But my target is devious and she scoots back, taunting me with closing her knees and beckoning me with her finger.

I don't know how she does this, snatching away the power I mistakenly thought I had and exacting control over me with nothing more than a coy twist of her finger. I don't give a fuck. I know I'll be at her bidding as long as I'm lucky enough for her to want me.

I crawl up and over her slowly, rush of need bowing to intensity as she locks her brown eyes on mine. Her smile softens as her legs wind around me under my gentle encouragement, my hands absorbing her skin as I caress the back of her thigh. She's so warm and I've never felt safer or more at home than when I'm wrapped in her trust.

Her tiny hands place themselves against my neck, guiding my mouth carefully down to hers. She presses into me deeply though her mouth is closed, pouring all the words I wouldn't let her say straight past my lips and into my soul.

I pull back so I can see her, slightly shifting so I can tenderly brush her hair back from her face. I still know that my time with her is precious, but I want to do this is as unhurried as I can. I won't rush my last time with her, no matter how deep she cuts her nails into my back. I fucked like she wanted me to last night, but I need her to make love to me before I let her go.

She nuzzles into my palm as I cup her cheek in my hand, sweeping my thumb over her lightly parted lips. I wait until she looks at me. I need to make sure she sees what's forbidden for her to hear.

"I love you," I mouth to her, promising her with all I am and still without a word.

Her nod and smile are painfully sweet as she soundlessly forms back, "I know."

I lay my mouth to hers, connecting in every way we can. I close the last remaining distance between us, pressing slightly so I'm finally and perfectly inside her.

She gasps into my mouth, taking the air that I only breathe for her. I'll let her have anything she wants: my body, my heart, my life, as long as it's hers.

I rock deeper into her as slow as I can, losing myself in the feeling of her surrounding and cradling me, welcoming me into the only place I ever want to be.

Her advances against me are just as measured and it feels like she wants to cherish every second of me being hidden in her. Our tender strokes are in perfect harmony and it's so intimate, so passionate, so much more beautiful than I ever thought possible. Part of me always knew it could be, but I know that everything this is, it could only ever be like this with her.

There's nothing like making love to Elena, feeling her body rise and fall under me, the way her breath catches at each of my thrusts, having her tremble with my mouth open to hers. I'm not even trying to get her to orgasm yet, I'm just focusing on enjoying and kissing her. But it doesn't take much and she's already contracting and throbbing around me, holding me impossibly tighter within her.

I'm drinking her silent screams and I'm trying to hold on, but it's impossible when I can feel just how much she needed me.

My muscles tighten and jerk with hers as tingling warmth surges through every inch of my shaking body. She devours my moans, propelling my release into her as deep as I can manage, knowing I need it to flow and fill her all the long and twisting way into her elusive heart.

Breath and time realign with thought and reality and I realize I'm still on top of her. She's holding my head to her breasts, her fingers braided through my hair and her legs locked around me, keeping me inside of her.

I never want to move again, but I'm too heavy and I know I should. There's no way she can breathe with all my weight against her. I place a kiss on her skin and try to draw back so I'm supporting myself but she doesn't let me go, gripping me tighter and pulling so I'm somehow closer than before.

I don't even try to hide my smile, just letting myself collapse into the arms of the woman I love. If this is where she wants me, this is where I'll stay.

I never understood cuddling before, but now it makes perfect sense. There's something about savoring the warmth of her skin, slick with sweat and flush from the ecstasy that I brought her. She's never been more beautiful.

We lay for a while just holding each other, ignoring the clock that's counting down the minutes to the inevitable.

It strikes as she takes a deep breath, laying a kiss to my hair.

No, not yet.

I'm up in a blur and have her scooped up in another, walking with her cradled to my chest before she ever realized we were moving.

I strut with my usual confidence, acting like I'm ignoring the look that she's giving me, but I know she sees me smugly peeking at her from the corner of my eye. She's silently laughing and shaking her head, crossing her arms in the Elena version of what constitutes mocking tolerance.

The absolute best part is that I know for all her exaggerated huffing, she actually doesn't care. She's still letting me take her and do whatever I want and what I want is her in my shower so she can forget that clocks exist.

She startles and swats me as I hop into the bath to avoid the shards of mirror that are all over my floor. I jump us out of the far side of the tub, evading the mess and continuing towards the shower and I realize she's blushing. I cock my head at her in question, but she just shakes hers again. I can't hide my smirk, I'm sure she's remembering exactly what it was that caused it to break.

It wasn't my fault, I couldn't help it. And I don't give a fuck. It can be replaced, though I really don't want to fix it. I love knowing what happened and I'm more than happy to sacrifice seeing my reflection so I can look at a blank wall and know how good it felt to have the world explode around us. I'll never forget it and I never want to.

I set her down carefully under the shower head. She just smiles and observes me as I step in beside her, turning on the water hot enough so that soon we're swathed in steam. She's delightfully compliant, letting me wash her hair with her arms around my waist, sneaking little kisses on to my chest while I massage into her scalp.

I know we're getting close to the end, but I'm still not ready to let go. And she's still not resisting me as I clean her, just letting me take care of her in the way that I know she needs. I don't think anyone ever does this for her anymore.

There's no one at her house that watches over her and she doesn't have someone to do all the little things that when added up, mean that they love you. Instead she has to be responsible for both herself and her little brother. She's on her own and I hate that. She's too young to carry so much weight on her shoulders.

Her eyes close as I tilt her head back into the water, rinsing off the soap and watching the trails it makes as it slides down her skin. I'd carry it all for her if I could, but I can't. I know she needs that weight to make her strong, but I still can't stop myself from trying to do anything I can to help. Even if it's something as simple as washing her hair or remembering to put her bear back in her bed when it inevitably falls on the floor, that way it's with her when she wakes up alone.

That's what you do for those you love.

Hey eyes open again with a smug grin, catching me looking at her under the water. I shrug at her, not even going to try to deny how much I enjoy having her naked in front of me. How could I not? She's gorgeous and her body is insane.

But I know she sees the depth in my eyes, because she always sees past my defenses. She knows I'm not looking at her like I want her, she knows I'm looking at her like I want to keep her. Her softening smile tells me more than I need to hear. She knows that I love her and that's all that matters.

I step in closer, winding my arm around the small of her back. I take her other hand in mine and hold it over my heart, loving the feel of the band of her ring as it meets my skin. She blushes deeply as I begin to sway, guiding her to let go of fear and her ideas of right and wrong. There's no shame in wanting to dance with the woman you love, even in the shower.

I love dancing with her and I never get to do it enough. She's the ideal partner, following my lead effortlessly and responding just how I want her to at every trace of a touch. That's when I first knew how perfect we were for each other, even before I was ready to admit how I felt about her. You can tell so much in a dance and Elena and I have always fit. Now more than ever.

I'm sure she's still blushing, but I can't see her face. It's resting snugly against my chest and tucked under my chin where she feels safe and comfortable, but we're still dancing. I don't want to stop, because I know what's going to happen when I do. And I know it has to happen sometime, I'm just going to do my best to prolong it as long as I can.

She takes a shaky breath. Her mind must be following the same path as mine. It's telling her that she has to get home, she has to get ready for school. She needs to check on Jeremy and re-wash her hair with her own shampoo so that when he eventually finds her, he won't realize where she's been.

I still my steps and try to take a breath, but it's stuck in my throat.

It's time.

I tilt her face up so she's looking at me and she knows it is too. It's as plain as everything else that she tells me with her eyes.

I place a soft kiss to her lips and she trembles, overcome with the abundance of emotion that we can't describe. I leave her mouth with a smile, trying to assure her that it'll all be right in the end. We're just not quite there yet. But as soon as she decides what's right for her, I'll make sure she has it. I know she understands, her sorrowful nod tells me so.

I touch the spot under her chin and lift it another inch and she sighs and tries to smile at me, though she looks like she'd rather cry. I grin wider, letting her know that's exactly what I need her to do. I need her to be strong now, so we can try to make our way through the murky middle.

I bring her hand from my chest and lay it on my cheek, breathing deep the smell of her before placing a chaste kiss on the inside of her palm. I raise my eyebrows as I point at her, telling her without a word to stay. She smiles back for real this time and it almost hurts more than her tears. Because she's going to make me be the one to tell her she needs to leave.

Sometimes I hate having to be the strong one, but I'll do it for her if that's what she needs. I'll make the tough decisions and I'll be the bad guy as long as she knows why it is I'm doing it. At least this time I think she does, because that's what she's asking for.

She doesn't move as I reach behind her, turning off the water before I step out. I hate leaving her even if for a moment, but I need to dry her off so I can get her dressed. Those jeans are tight enough on their own and I know there's no way I'm getting them back up her legs with water slowing them down.

I wrap a towel around my hips, bringing two back for her. She holds her hand out for one and I try not to laugh. I unfold the larger of the two and drape it around her shoulders, tucking it in so her arms are snuggled and trapped inside. She smirks and shakes her head at me, but I don't care as long as she's not crying.

I unfold the second one I brought for her hair, making a show of looking at it seriously like I'm debating what to do. Her eyes pop in shock as I toss it at her, letting it land sloppily open and covering her whole head.

I pick her up in a low hug, my arms supporting her just under her bottom before I even give her a chance to try and shake it off. She's so adorable as she wiggles and squirms while I carry her back to my room, but the towel is too long and she still isn't free when I set her on my dresser.

I can't resist the urge to rile her up even more, mussing her head playfully before I finally pull the cloth away. She's glaring at me with a look that could kill anyone else, but it just makes me melt. I toss the towel once more back over her face, hoping that if I can get her annoyed enough she'll forget that she doesn't want to leave.

I step away and bend to gather her clothes from the floor, purposefully ignoring the damp towel that goes whizzing by my head. She's completely unbound herself by the time I straighten, the other one I wrapped her in now pooling at her waist. Her arms and legs are crossed in righteous indignation, but there's a smirk lurking just below the surface of the glower she's giving me.

My plan is working impeccably. She may be pretending that she's mad, but she's still not crying. I grin at her wickedly as I swagger back to her, swinging her bra around my finger with it hooked into the strap. She purses her lips with all she can, but it doesn't hide the smile she's barely able to contain.

She snatches it out of my grasp as soon as I'm near, rolling her eyes at me as she puts it on with the easy confidence of something she's done thousands of times before, though never in front of me. But she's not thinking about that, she's staring at the pile of purple lace sitting at the end of my bed, right where I left them.

She points at them impatiently, my whole chest shaking in laughter. I shake my head at her and I'm rewarded with a scowl. I don't care, those panties are mine now. I earned them.

I grab her shirt from where I set it down next to her and yank it over her head, her arms effortlessly threading themselves through the long sleeves.

So far, so good. She's halfway dressed and she's still not thinking about having to jump over my balcony, or what she knows I'm probably going to do after she does. I can't think about it yet either. I have to try and get her out of the house before I absolutely shatter.

I take her jeans and bunch up the legs so her feet slip in easily, bringing them up as far as I can to her bent knees.

I'm not looking at her eyes but I feel it as the mood suddenly shifts, her tiny and delicate hands taking their place on either side of my neck. She can't do this yet. If she sheds a single tear it'll be over and my façade will fall.

She knows what I'm doing now, how much pain I'm hiding. One soft hand moves to my cheek, making me turn to face her. I need to try to be strong for her, but I honestly don't know if I have any more left in me. It's taking everything I have to make myself seal her away.

Her eyes find mine and she sees it all, her face falling in apology for not being able to give me all she knows I want. I don't want her to feel guilty, this isn't her fault. I wasn't supposed to love her in the first place, though I'd never take it back. At least she knows that too, I told her as she held me the night we both thought would be my last.

I give her a slight shrug and weak smile, wishing I could speak to her to tell its fine. I shouldn't have ever dared to hope and she's already given me so much more than I know that I deserve. I'm so thankful for each stolen moment, every kiss she blessed me with and all the secrets we share between us. It won't ever be enough, but it's better than the nothing I should have received.

I help her off the dresser, setting her to the floor without a sound. I turn to get her shoes from where she kicked them off, leaving her to fight the rest of the way into her jeans while I flick a single salty bead of water from my eye.

I hear her zipper pull and something inside me screams.

I'm never going to make it, she needs to go.

I return to my siren, kneeling at her feet and batting away her hands so I can do it for her. She yields, letting me quietly finish her zipper and lock the button, knowing I need to exact control over the few things I can.

I slip her bare feet into her shoes, tying them each with a textbook bow. And with the simple fastening of white cotton laces, it's done.

I know I should stand and walk her to the door, but my legs feel weak and unstable and I can't let her know that. She's already hurting too and she doesn't need to know how I'm already falling apart.

I push with all the strength I can find, rising to face her. She looks like she's worried about me and I don't blame her, I'm worried about me too. But mostly I'm worried that any second Stefan is going to head to her house and find that she's gone. I snuck a glance at the clock when I went to get her shoes and it's later than I thought. We're cutting this dangerously close and every minute counts.

She doesn't have her phone with her either and I'm sure she's going to arrive to a stack of angry voicemails and a long list of texts. Then again, maybe she won't. I haven't heard him leave her a single message since he's been back. I wonder if she even noticed, but I doubt it.

I take her hand in mine and lead her to the balcony door.

We step outside into the sunlight and the part of me that was human wants to soak up the warmth but my vampire body knows the truth: it's nothing more than searing golden death. And it's here. This is the moment that's going to haunt me for as long as it takes before she decides if she ever wants to return.

I swallow thickly, wishing I knew what to do to make her understand. She is my everything. My drive, my life, my every waking thought and each step I take.

I take our clasped hands and lay them over my heart, hoping that she sees in my eyes all the words I want to say, but can't.

I don't know what she sees reflected in them, but whatever it is, it's enough to make her cry.

I bring my other hand up to her cheek, wiping away the silent tears rolling down her face. I didn't want her to cry, I hate it when she cries. It always feels like every tear is dragging a piece of my soul along with it, especially when I know that they're only there because of me.

Her right hand is still on my chest covered with mine, but her left takes my right one that's cupping her cheek, bringing it down to lay it over her heart so we match.

Her eyes are pleading for forgiveness, for patience, for understanding. They're promising she loves me even though she used to hate me, vowing that she recognizes all that she denied. She's begging me to believe that she's not running, she just needs a little more time.

I nod at her, I understand. I told her that I wasn't going to push her now and I meant it. If she did finally make a choice, it's more than possible she could change her mind the very next minute. Everything right now for her is already such a mess without bringing all this into it and I know she needs to accept her new life before she declares who she shares it with.

She huffs out a shaky breath filled with relief, her eyes closing and head falling forward under the weight of her gratitude. I pull my hands from her grasp so I can take her face in them, making her look at me one more time.

I lean down to her slowly, kissing her as tenderly as I can. Her lips are wet with tears and so are mine, but I'd rather her think they all belong to her.

Her tongue traces the place where she always touches when she wants permission and I've never denied her before, but I should now. Every second we stay is only going to make this hurt more.

But I don't. I can't.

The strain from our imposed silence and the power of things unsaid has been steadily building and with one touch of her tongue it erupts with violent intensity.

Her open mouth rages against mine and my arms crush her against me, drawing her deeper as she bends to my will. I don't want to hurt her, but I can't stop myself from holding her with all my strength. And I don't know how it's possible, but somehow she manages to hold me even tighter; her thin arms wrapped around my neck, straining to keep me locked to her as close as she can.

When I finally pull away and rest my forehead against hers, we're both completely breathless; hearts racing with the force that only seems to intensify between us.

I try to give her the most reassuring smile I can, but I know it doesn't reach my eyes.

Our bodies separate and hands leave skin and I'm instantly cold.

Our eyes are still locked as I nod my head in the direction she should have taken hours ago, but didn't.

Her breath is grave and slow, resigned to obey the command she needs to follow, though she knows I don't want her to. As I watch she brings her fingertips up to her lips, laying the last of silent kisses upon them. She presses them into my heart, taking it with her as she leaps to the ground.

I can't find the will to move as she takes one step after another, gradually further away from me.

"Damon?" Stefan's voice carries to me through the empty walls.

"What?"

"Have you heard from Elena?"

"Nope," I answer back, watching with a heavy sigh as her silhouette fades into the trees. "Not a word."

FIN

A/N: Okay guys, I know I say it often but I cannot say it enough: Thank you Thank you Thank you! Never expected anything like the support and encouragement you have all been so gracious to give. I'm so sad that this story has ended, it has been so much fun to write, and I'm so glad you all have enjoyed it as much as I have. Because we are now complete, feel free to check the follow author button so that way if any new stories come up down the line you won't miss 'em! Thanks again guys, y'all rock.

UPDATE: We now have a sequel! Please head on over and check out Clocks and Closed Doors, the companion to this story! Thanks to all!

-Goldnox