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A bove Elena’s and Damon’s heads, the stars glittered in great long swathes across the dark night. The air was clear and chilly with the smells of autumn, and the sky seemed so deep that Elena felt like she could just fall into it, swim farther and farther among the stars forever.
“So,” Damon said dryly. “You managed to avoid killing me. I suppose I should be grateful?”
The bond between them hummed with wry humor, and more than a touch of nervousness. It was strange being able to read Damon’s emotions like this, seeing more than he allowed to show on his face. “Gratitude would be nice,” she said cautiously, “but it’s not necessary. Just try to keep returning the favor, okay?”
She felt him startle a little beside her, a shock zinging along their bond, and then he said, breezily, “Oh, I’d almost forgotten. You’re trusting me not to hurt you, then?”
Elena stopped walking and put her hand on Damon’s arm, pulling him to a stop beside her. “Yes,” she said, gazing steadily into his eyes, letting him see the love she carried for him. “I am. You’ve been a lot of things, Damon Salvatore, but you’ve always been a gentleman.”
Damon’s eyes widened, and then he gave her the lovely, sweet smile she had seen for the first time in Stefan’s room. “Well,” he said, “it would break all the rules of chivalry to disappoint a lady.”
Elena tipped her head back and gazed at the stars for a few minutes, enjoying the cool evening breeze that brushed her hair back from her face. With Klaus and his descendants gone, with Damon calm and peaceful at her side, it was good to be able to enjoy the night.
“Does your great trust in me mean you’re planning to take both Salvatore brothers for one more spin?” Damon asked, still looking up at the stars. His tone was definitely joking now, a bit rough, but Elena could hear an undercurrent of longing in it, and feel his wistfulness in the connection between them. In some ways, it would be so easy: she’d spent a long time suspended between the brothers, loving Stefan, wanting Damon. It was almost comfortable at this point to love them both. But she had grown up at least a little now, she thought, and maybe it was time to shut those doors forever, to choose her true path.
“You’ll always have a part of me, Damon.” She pressed her hand to her chest, where she could feel the slight tug and ebb of the bond between them. “But I want my forever to be with Stefan.”
“I know,” Damon said. He turned to face her and ghosted his hand lightly across her hair, down over her shoulders. “I think maybe it’s time for me to move on. There’s a big world out there, and there are still a few places I haven’t seen. Maybe there’s somewhere else I belong.”
Unexpectedly, Elena found herself crying, big, fat, babyish tears running hot over her cheeks and dripping off her chin. “You don’t have to go,” she choked. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“Hey,” Damon said, startled, and moved closer, running his hand gently across her back. “I won’t be gone forever. I think this slightly alarming
thing between us”—he touched his chest lightly—“means I’ll never be too far away.” “Oh, Damon,” Elena choked.
Damon looked down at her seriously for a long moment. “It’s the right thing, you know,” he said. “Not that I’ve ever been particularly interested in doing the right thing. I’ve got a sinking feeling I’m about to learn.”
He leaned down and brushed a light kiss across her mouth. His lips were soft and cold, and to Elena, they tasted like memories. Pulling back, he stood with her for a moment longer under the stars, his perfect pale skin shining in their light, his eyes gleaming, his velvety hair as dark as the night around them.
“Good-bye, Elena,” he said. “Don’t forget me.”
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Chapter 42 | | | Chapter 44 |