it wasn't until she opened the door, felt the chill autumn breeze hit skin burning with embarrassment and pain and a horrible sense of loss that elena's brain clicked into place.

it all came together in a single moment of clarity. and now, she reversed her steps, the aching sadness replaced by anger more intense than any she'd ever experienced.

he was on the floor with his head in his hands when she walked into the room, and when he looked up his first thought was that his description of her as a warrior princess had been dead on. she let the remnants of her shirt fall from her shoulders and her hair tumbled in sexy disarray. her makeup had been washed away by her tears, but with eyes blazing, cheeks flushed, mouth full and curled in a disgusted sneer, she hardly needed any.

"you fucking asshole."

he was quick to recover and quirked an eyebrow, standing and taking an absent swig of liquor.

"did you change your mind about the threesome? katherine should be here any minute."

elena shoved him backward against the door, slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

"jeez, someone changed her tune awfully quick. if you wanted to get in my pants all you had to do was ask."

she sent him a death glare, scanned his list of recent calls.

"interesting how you have katherine saved in your phone as voicemail."

he shrugged. "okay, busted. i told you, i'm not in the mood for company."

"do i look like i care?" she yanked the bottle of bourbon from his hand and took an impressive gulp purely to fuel the fire already raging in her gut. took another because it stoked the fire, stoked the anger. and gave her something to do with her hands, other than strangle him.

"woah there," he commented, reaching for the drink only to have her snatch it away. he watched her take her third swig, shook his head. "come on, elena. gimme the bottle, sweetheart."

the term of endearment was a bad idea, and elena whirled on him, shoved him backward.

"don't you sweetheart me, damon fucking salvatore."

"damn, elena, i didn't know your vocabulary ran to the f-word."

"fuck. you." she enunciated each syllable very precisely as her eyes shot daggers. "what is WRONG with you, anyway? who the hell do you think you are?"

"i'm damon fucking salvatore," he said with a little grin. she jabbed a finger in his face.

"what the hell do you think you're smirking at? you have no reason to be all stupid and smirk-y." she swallowed another mouthful, made a face. when he went for the bottle again she pulled it out of reach. "stoppit. this is mine. you don't get to sit around all pathetic and drunk. i just spent," she closed her eyes, tried to focus though the world was suddenly a bit crooked. "i just spent hours, hours! sitting here! waiting for you! waiting for my stupid jackass knight in stupid jackass shining armor to come back to me! and how do you repay me? by being a, a - "

"stupid jackass?" he supplied, still smiling. damn if she wasn't the cutest thing he'd ever seen, standing there half-dressed, indignant and furious and pretty much adorable.

"don't get smart with me. i'm mad at you. you manipulative ass! you think i don't see right through your crap? well i do, and you can't shake me off that easy, so you're just gonna have to deal with it!" another gulp, another grimace, a quick glare, another gulp.

fighting a smile damon put out a hand. "elena, give me the bottle." he stepped forward, she stepped back. he took another step, gauging his prey - a girl who was rapidly losing depth perception. she proved it by backing straight into the wall.

he took advantage of her momentary confusion - when had the wall moved, anyway? - to snag the bottle and replace it on his set of drawers.

"baby, you're gonna feel like hell in the morning."

"don't call me baby. i hate you. i hate you!" she tried to poke his chest, managed to miss the hollow of his throat by a handful of inches. "you, you, making me feel horrible and saying those terrible things and - "

"i know," he said soothingly, and when she continued to resist he solved the problem the way he generally did, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

"hey! you're cheating!"

"i usually do," he answered, giving her ass an appreciative pat before flipping her again and laying her on the bed. with deft fingers, he undid the snap of her jeans, drew them down off those long, smooth legs, tried not to groan.

"no, nuh uh, no sex, not now, not ever." she tried to sit up only to end up on her back again. "stop doing that!"

"doing what?" he smiled innocently at her as he unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled off the plain white undershirt he wore beneath it. "come here, sweetheart." when she sat up again, looking wary, he kept his eyes on hers, steadily focused, nearly hypnotizing her.

and when he flicked the snap of her bra open in a deft, easy move, she was so lost in those eyes that it took a moment for indignation to strike.

"what d'you think you're doing?"

his eyes were still trained on her face; he saw the flare of awareness in hers, felt his gut clench. it took an amount of self control he didn't know he possessed to keep his eyes on her face, and he practically shoved elena's head through the hole in his discarded undershirt. he wasn't a goddamn saint, and sitting there, big eyed and vulnerable, damn if he didn't want to indulge in some very fun, very exciting, very dark sins.

with effort he brought his mind back to the present and pulled back his bed covers.

"come on, elena. bedtime."

she let out an undignified snort. "i'm not staying."

"sure you are." to prove his point, he slid an arm under her, moved her over and flipped the cover back in place. "stay," he said, turning and going into the bathroom. he filled a glass with water, grabbed a few aspirin from the cabinet over the sink. when he came back into the room, she was on her feet, struggling to pull her jeans on.

he sighed. "really?"

she ignored him, concentrating on the task at hand. irritation rapidly turned into amusement, particularly when she tripped herself up and fell back on the bed. he didn't bother repressing his laughter and shook his head, watching her with a grin.

"having trouble?"

"shut up," she answered, glaring and kicking off the jeans. "fine. i'll stay. only 'cause i'm not dumb enough to drive. you on the other hand, are very dumb, and very stupid, and very... you're just dumb," she finished. with those eloquent words, she pulled the covers over herself again, snuggled into the warmth of the bed.

he sat beside her, and she opened one eye, irritated.

"go away."

"this is my room."

"don't care."

"just take the aspirin and drink the water. you'll thank me later."

"ha! you're forgetting how i hate you and you're stupid and dumb."

"and a jackass."

"and a jackass."

"lay down, elena."

"don't wanna. i mean, since i'm here anyway..." she wrapped her arms around him, gave him a long, drunken kiss.

he was going to have to kill her, but he'd wait til she was sober and could feel pain.

pulling back was no easy task, not when she was twisting herself around him like a beautiful, exotic vine - not when he wanted to let her keep going forever. but he managed, barely, shoved her back for the third time.

"stoppit," he said through gritted teeth. could lust kill a man? it seemed like a distinct possibility.

she grumbled. "i'll never forgive you for this."

"for what?"

she thought about it for a second.

"for being you."

"now take the aspirin like a good girl."

"leave me alone."

"as soon as you take it," he said, pressing the tablets into her hand.

"make me," she responded, sulking.

"kay." he used his free hand to squeeze her nose, cutting off the air supply and forcing her to open her mouth. he took the pills back, put them on her tongue, poured water into her mouth and watched in amusement as she choked on it.

"okay! i took your stupid pills."

"you'll be glad you did in the morning, gorgeous."

she crossed her arms, obviously sulking. he only grinned, left the room, came back a moment later in a pair of black boxers and nothing else.

"you have a really sexy body," she said, sounding petulant, like the fact itself somehow offended her.

"so do you," he answered, watching in amusement as her eyes dropped. he heard the gasp, enjoyed the way her eyes grew huge.

"no wonder you're so cocky."

she burst out laughing at her own unintended pun, and damon shook his head, smiling.

"scoot over, princess," he told her, giving her a little shove.

"i don't think there's room for that - you - oh shut up," she said, shoving back.

"it's quiet time, elena," he murmured, wondering how he would possibly manage to sleep beside a mostly-naked elena when he was already rock hard.

she rolled toward him, her bare leg brushing up against him. those big eyes were fascinated as they watched the lust cloud his eyes.

"did i do that?"

"what?"

she nudged him with her knee and he couldn't bite back a groan.

"elena, i'm doing my best not to seriously take advantage of this situation, and you're not helping."

"i was just wondering."

"yeah, you, all you. now get on your side of the bed and go to sleep."

she lay her head back on the pillow, thankfully moving her leg away from dangerous territory.

"i don't really hate you," she murmured.

"i know." he kissed her brow and stroked her cheek, simultaneously feeling sweet and protective and horny as all hell. she inspired the strangest mix of feelings in him. it was a kind of power - and it was scary and amazing.

"i didn't mean any of it," he said after a moment.

"i know," she whispered, snuggling deeper under the covers. he tucked them around her so that the fabric made a barrier - a pathetic one, but a barrier nonetheless - between their bodies.

"go to sleep, okay?"

"will you be here when i wake up?"

"it's my bed," he told her, smiling.

"will you?"

"i'm not going anywhere, elena."

satisfied, she gave him a big wet kiss, closed her eyes, and fell instantly to sleep.

it was during the pre-dawn hours of the morning that damon woke abruptly, startled into consciousness by the sudden knowledge - and how he knew it was completely beyond him - that elena wasn't beside him.

the light from beneath the bathroom door marginally reassured him, but he was on his feet and across the room in seconds regardless.

elena opened the door just as damon lifted a hand to knock, and for a long moment they stood motionless, damon's hand still poised mid-knock. they were entirely captivated by each other.

she was rumpled, sleepy-eyed, her hair in tumbled disarray. her feet were bare, her long legs endless, her slender frame silhouetted by the light behind her. the hem of his shirt was just long enough to hide those sexy black panties, and as his gaze swept upward, he watched, transfixed, as the smooth slope of fabric covering her breasts was disturbed by nipples that inexplicably hardened the instant she saw him.

her mouth went dry, but the thirst that dragged her from sleep was entirely different from the one she experienced now.

damon dropped his hand, shook his head. grinned.

"morning, sunshine."

she took a shaky breath. he was too goddamn gorgeous for his own good, with those arms subtly shaped by muscle, those defined pecs, that hard stomach with its six perfect indentations. he was no barrel-chested, bulging biceps, weight-lifting type; with damon, the impression of strength, of power, wasn't caused by size or muscles. if anything, he was on the lean side. and yet one look told you this was a man who would fight hard, fight well, and, in all likelihood, fight dirty.

and that face. god, that face, which could only be described as beautiful. the hard line of his jaw, the sensual mouth curved in a wicked smile, the faintly hollowed cheeks and strong cheekbones. those eyes, impossibly blue, both intense and eloquent.

he was like a tiger. or a panther, she thought. a tiger stood proud and bold, moved with ferocity and determination; a panther was sneakier, more lithe, sinuous, with the easy grace of its domesticated counterparts. damon could blend into the background if necessary, but he wouldn't hesitate to show his fangs - real and figurative - should the need arise. he was all suppressed energy, a spring, coiled but poised to release at any second.

even as electricity pulsed between them, damon reached out to touch her cheek with infinite gentleness.

"you feeling okay?"

she nodded, struck mute by his very presence. what was it about this moment? the here, the now? she'd seen damon shirtless countless times. and of course, there was the memorable occasion when she'd walked in on him wearing nothing but a challenging smirk. she'd retreated then, even as her hormones had gone into overdrive.

and that, she realized, was the difference.

she wasn't going to retreat this time. this time, they were going to see things through.

he knew it, too. saw it on her face, felt it singeing the air, burning hot. and was, he discovered, not a little shocked, nervous as hell.

"do you want something to drink, some more aspirin?" his voice was casual, his eyes locked on her face. he could spend all of eternity just looking at her and still want more.

"i want you, damon."

hearing the words brought emotion surging to the surface, and he hoped to god his eyes weren't bright with tears. she said it so simply, like that one sentence was the answer to any and all questions, asked aloud or silently wondered.

"i don't deserve it, elena."

"it? what, sex?" she pursed her lips, and her eyes laughed. "do you think this is some kind of award? first place gets to sleep with elena gilbert?"

"you," he answered quietly. "i don't deserve you."

she moved toward him, heart aching. and she lay her head against his chest, slipped her arms around him and held on, offering him everything.

for a moment, he stayed frozen. it was when she touched him with such tenderness that she managed to tear down his defenses, to make him feel... human. she made him remember what it was to be human.

she felt the tension drain from his muscles, shivered when one hand dipped under the shirt she wore to stroke the length of her back. slowly, unwilling to break contact, he caught her hand in his, drawing her toward him as he moved backward to the bed.

oh, god, she was shaking. she was terrified.

she was desperate for him.

gently, he reversed their positions so her back was up against one of the beams of his four-poster bed. he paused to look at her, to savor the moment of anticipation.

"kiss me, elena." it was a whispered command, and her gaze dropped to his mouth. she looked small and sensitive and achingly sweet, and when she complied, the hesitant kiss rocked him to his core.

she pulled back, looking at him with solemn eyes. she swallowed, thinking again that he was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen.

and experienced. he had decades and decades of experience, and though she knew the words he'd aimed at her earlier that night were meant to drive her away and, in his perverse fashion, to protect her, she was overwhelmed by nerves.

"stop thinking," he murmured, dipping his head to kiss the hollow of her throat where her pulse jumped beneath his mouth. "just feel. all you have to do is feel."

her skin was heating fast, and she tilted her head to give him more access as her hands moved from his wrists to his shoulders. she'd had no idea how sensitive her throat was until his mouth was on it, and she shuddered, fingers gripping those hard shoulders as she pulled him closer.

now he pulled back, saw the flush of her cheeks, and knew he had to have more. she was offering everything - damn if he wouldn't take it.

"i have to see you," he said, voice hoarse. "let me see you, elena."

she looked up at him, eyes dark and clouded, then lowered her arms, brought her hands down to toy with the hem of the shirt. she'd never experienced this kind of intense vulnerability, and it was potent, scary, delicious. with deliberate slowness, she lifted the shirt, inch by tantalizing inch, watched his eyes darken, heard his breath quicken. it was a power she'd never known, and she had every intention of drawing it out. but damon had other ideas.

"fuck," he muttered, "i need you. god damn it!" his tone was fierce, and she let out a startled gasp when his hands wrenched hers away. grabbed the neck of the shirt and in one violent motion, ripped it down the middle and tossed it aside.

jesus, she was beautiful. her breath was catching in her throat and she was hypnotized by him, shuddering.

"tell me you want me to touch you," he said in a low growl. but she was incapable of speech, melting into the heat of her own passion. "say it," he demanded, grabbing a fistful of hair, tugging ruthlessly. his eyes moved over her body, and though he was only touching her hair she could all but feel his skin against hers. "say it," he said again, pulling sharply.

the pain wasn't pain at all. what the hell was happening? every physical sensation seemed to move from the tips of her fingers, the tips of her toes, rushing up to meet at the center in an unbearable ball of heat.

"i don't," she told him, her tone husky. "i don't want it," she went on, heart hammering. "i need it. i need your hands, damon. i need you."

it was like the gunshot that sent runners off the mark; she thought she heard its roar in her head as the leash on his control snapped. as he took her at her word, those wicked hands taking over, skimming her hips, cupping her breasts. she arched under his touch, begging for more. she'd known. some part of her had known it would be like this. dark and frenzied and -

her breath caught when his mouth closed over her nipple. tugged, toyed. her eyes were open, but she couldn't see a damn thing. all she could do was feel.

when he raised his head, met her lips in a feverish kiss, she tangled her fingers in his hair and yanked him closer so that finally, finally, their bare skin met, every hard line of his body, every soft curve of hers pressed together. she could feel him, feel her effect on him, was dazzled by it. and one of her hands abandoned his hair to slip between their bodies, to touch and tease.

"oh, fuck." the words were choked, and he knew if she kept going she'd drive him over. so he yanked her hands away, twisted her arms behind her back, cuffed her wrists.

she wasn't sure how it happened, but suddenly she was on her back, and the weight of him was pressing her against the bed. when had they gotten there? and why was she wasting brain cells wondering? the contrast of the steely strength of his body and the soft give of the mattress was dizzying. his hands found her, ripped aside the black swatch of fabric so that she was beneath him, naked and unbelievably stunning. for a moment the beast in him quieted, and he rose above her, just looking. she was everything. she was his entire fucking world, and the sudden knowledge that this body, soft and smooth and so unbearably sensitive, would soon join with his - the knowledge staggered him.

he wasn't anywhere near done drinking in the sight of her laying there, vulnerable and hot and ready beneath him. but she was pushing herself up, impatient for him, and her hands found the elastic of his boxers.

"now," she said, breath ragged. "please, please, damon, i can't take it." god, she was trembling, and her skin was slick with the sweat of passion. she whimpered, actually whimpered, when he moved away, got to his feet. "are you really making me beg?" she would, and she knew it. didn't care.

"have to - " he couldn't be bothered with words, stripped off his boxers, hands suddenly uncharacteristically clumsy. "you're so beautiful, elena. you have no idea, do you? no idea how incredibly beautiful you are."

she wasn't looking at him - at his face. her mouth had gone dry at the sight of that - him - god, she couldn't think.

"you're so small," he murmured, still standing there, barely conscious of her eyes which focused like magnets on that part of him that would bring them truly and entirely together. she swallowed, wondered fleetingly how the hell she could accommodate him. "i'm so scared of hurting you," he said thickly, slowly moving over her, ranging himself above her slender body, looking down into those big, bright, lust-filled eyes.

"you won't," she said, reaching for him, making him gasp. "you couldn't," she told him. and as she looked at those unbelievably blue eyes, everything inside her stilled, quieted. even as her pulse continued to pound, she knew nothing would ever be the same. and everything would be exactly as it should. "i need you, damon," she repeated. this time her voice wasn't urgent, but soft, soothing. "i'm yours. i'm giving you everything i am." a little smile curved her lips. "it would be rude to turn down a gift."

he let out a strangled laugh and skimmed his hands over her hips, down her thighs. touched her where she was dying to be touched.

"i'm ready," she said, barely able to get the words out, barely able to form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. "take me, damn it. please, damon. i have to know... i have to feel you."

"if i hurt you -"

"you won't," she told him, and this time her voice had an edge of urgency. "damn it, you won't." and she opened herself to him, arched her hips, felt him hard and intimidatingly huge against her burning center. "if i don't feel you inside me in two seconds, i swear to god i'll kill you."

she didn't have to make good on the threat. slowly, with infinite care and tenderness, he slid, inch by delicious inch, into her. felt her tighten around him like a silken glove. felt her body bow beneath him, watched the play of emotion on her face. her eyes were closed as she savored his slow entry into her body, and she was biting her lip, accepting him, loving him.

oh, god, she loved him.

"damon," she managed, broke off in a moan when he moved, rocked his hips forward, back, buried himself inside her. "damon, look at me."

he already was, and in the midst of all the pleasure, all the sinful pain, he grinned his damon grin. "baby, your eyes are closed."

she opened them, dizzy. "oh. well. hold - hold on," she said, hands gripping his hips, desperately trying to hold him in place when what she really wanted was to urge them to move, faster, faster.

he was trembling with restraint but listened, poised above her, inside her, as they absorbed each other, shivering with sensation.

she brought her hands from his hips to his face, pulled him toward her and kissed him with devastating sweetness.

"damon, i have to tell you something."

christ, he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold still. but he grabbed a thread of self control, and looking into her eyes, he silently urged her on.

"i love you, damon," she whispered.

his heart tripped in his chest and he sank into her, lowering himself so he could wrap his arms around her, so he could bury his face in her hair. and then her legs were clamping like a vise around his waist, hips moving like lightning.

when that lightning struck, it was a bolt of staggering electricity that shocked, seared their bodies. and the sparks flashed in a dazzling burst of light as they drove each other over the edge, bodies joined as one, tumbling into the dark abyss between pleasure and madness. tumbling, tumbling, tumbling. together.

the cork popped from the champagne bottle, bubbles rushing upward, bursting.

when elena looked at damon, she knew he was thinking thoughts identical to hers.

"it's like watching an orgasm," she said, grinning.

"more fun to have them," he told her, filling one glass, then the next.

"no arguments here."

dawn was breaking outside the window, the early birds filling the air with song as they flew in search of the worm.

elena sat cross-legged on the bed and accepted the bubbling crystal glass damon handed her before he sat beside her. she was utterly spent, lost in a place beyond contentment.

"i think tonight calls for a toast," she said, leaning her head against him and delighting in the feeling of closeness.

there was the slightest hint of bitterness in his voice when he answered. "i had it all figured out, earlier. this was supposed to be a celebratory drink."

"and you don't think tonight calls for celebration?"

"i think you call for celebration. just for being you."

she smiled, kissed the hollow of his throat. "listen, damon. so, things didn't go as planned." she laughed, aware of his brooding expression even though she wasn't looking at him. the sound was rich with triumph and hope and simple, easy happiness. "stop being all dark. come on, damon. things never go as planned. if you're going to blame anyone, blame me. just by existing - just by being me - i'm the wrench in the machine. i'm the variable that always screws things up."

"she says, laughing," he murmured, fascinated by her.

"you have to laugh, damon. you're the one who taught me that. that it's just as important to protect life as it is to enjoy it." her tone sobered as she lifted her head and looked at him with serious eyes. "you didn't fail, damon. you certainly didn't fail me. because here i am, sitting in bed with you. i'm exactly where i want to be, with the person i want to be with. that's you, by the way," she added, coaxing a grin from him.

"so, here," she went on, raising her glass and lifting her head regally, "here's to you, and me, together. here's to mind-blowing sex," she went on, grinning back at him. "here's to me, loving you. and to you, loving me."

she clinked her glass against his, and she was radiant, filled with that beautiful glow he loved so much. "i guess what i'm saying is, here to life."

and they drank the bubbly wine, drank in the sight of each other, reveled in a night that had ended more perfectly than either could have ever imagined. and they didn't think of yesterday, or worry about tomorrow. they simply lost themselves in the joy of the moment, the day, the never-ending present.

they lost themselves in the celebration of life.