#damon edit

"Morning, sunshine."

"It's an omen to see the bride before her wedding day."

"You've been dating an omen for the past decade, might I remind. One little peek won't hurt."

Elena sat, a silk robe of white ribboned around her waist, her hair pinned in great curls against her head.

She looked lovely, Damon thought, as his eyes drank in the sheer sight of her. Riveted, as he had always been by the gentleness in her skin, the warm innocence in her eyes. They caught him, studying in the most beautiful way. How could he not see her after these three days apart?

"It hasn't been that long, you know." She said, and stood from the silver rimmed chair. It was the same one she had gotten ready in eight years ago, preparing for the Miss Mystic Falls pageant. Her stomach was in an equal chaos of knots. Though this time, they were welcomed instead of dreaded.

"It's been long enough." Damon said, taking a step towards her. "And after five months of waking up beside you, I'm not liking the sudden change. You're lucky I've agreed to part with you for this long."

Elena narrowed the wedge of space between them, and dangled her arms over his shoulders, crossing her pinkie fingers around the back of his neck. She noticed that there was a darkness nestled unpeacefully beneath his eyes, and a peakiness about his skin. He looked tired, and she knew all too well the feeling.

Damon, even after all of this time, was adapting to the upkeep of human life.

"You don't have to worry any longer." Elena whispered, lightly hovering her lips over his. "In a few short hours we'll be husband and wife… and nothing will keep us apart."

He sighed against his greatest weakness—her—and took her mouth selfishly against his own, using its sweetness for his own selfish need and desire, the taste of her a drug he had never been able to forget; even after all of this time.

A disturbing cough came from behind, and as if knowing, Damon pried his mouth off the honey that was his bride, his bluer than blue eyes piercing irritatingly ahead. They reflected off of Elena and swerved to the icy blonde of Caroline Forbes; her brow cocked in question.

"I was just leaving." He said, and Elena watched with brief embarrassment the muscle in his jaw bounce. He turned back to kiss her forehead, and then left, keeping her hand in his until gravity yanked them apart.

"Two more hours he had to wait." Caroline tutted, locking the door behind him. She was wearing a lovely gold number—a silk that danced off of her hips and waist—shimmering as she went. Elena couldn't help but smile, returning to that chair where then, she began to brush a rouge upon her cheeks.

"Bonnie is bringing your something old, and I, am gifting you your something blue."

Caroline fetched from her purse a little black box, and for a moment, Elena had to wonder if it was the necklace Stefan had given her… all those years ago. She had told those close to her that she didn't want it, that it was his and touching it would disrupt the peace she had laid with him. Though still, a brief part of her wondered as she took into her hands that little velveteen box, pinching the lid with hesitation.

Upon a bed of silk, there was a blue gemstone, a carved 'D' within the centre. It was a necklace, one that gave off those familiar fumes of vervain and lavender. Elena frowned, and faced Caroline's look of apprehension.

"Well… do you like it?"

She did, though she didn't quite understand it.

"Here, let me put it on."

Caroline came behind Elena, taking that rope of silver and lacing it around her throat with a pinch and twist, that heart of lapis resting between her collarbones. It truly did look beautiful.

"It was Damon's ring… though Bonnie enchanted it to protect from compulsion instead of daylight. We both had it melted down into something new… something that was him instead of Stefan. What do you think?"

Elena had a small ooze of emotion, and her eyes welled, glistening in the mirror as she caressed it.

"A new necklace for a new life." She said, and Caroline laughed a tinkering, Christmas-bell laugh.

It truly was a new beginning.

____________________________

Damon slipped the silk of his tie through the noose of his shirt-collar, twisting, re-twisting, and grunting with irritation. It felt like it was choking him, and a talon-hand of suffocation was fastening around his neck.

Stefan should be here, he thought. A thought that perhaps ghosted through his mind a hundred times a day.

It had been five months since their last goodbye, and still, he dreamt of the flames that had licked up that cavern, engulfing Katherine and him in a finishing swallow. The roar of anger lodged in his throat, the haze of newly found humanity in his veins, the image of his brother's teary eyes as they board into Damon one last time. The last thing he saw.

Damon tossed aside the tie and went to lean against the fireplace, his forearm resting against that brick, the need for something strong drying out his mouth. Bourbon, he needed bourbon. But the recently discovered pain of a hangover wasn't worth it.

He found a bottle of champagne on ice, and popped the cork into the open flames, sipping from the rim. Just a little something to take the edge off, he thought to himself, unable to take his addiction of choice at this very moment; Elena.

"You okay in here?" A voice asked, and Damon glanced over his shoulder.

Alaric was in the doorway, the age having done a pain on his face, the weight of parenthood having done more to his hairline. Damon sighed, and turned back to the open fire.

"Just fine."

"So you're not openly drinking from a bottle on your wedding day?"

"He should be here, Ric."

Alaric sighed, and looked to his hands that were stuffed awkwardly in his pockets. "Yeah." He said, and swung forward a little. "Yeah, he should, Damon. But he isn't, and he wouldn't want you messing up this day for the sake of a little mourning."

Damon took another swig, and then set aside the bottle.

That was true, he inwardly agreed, though it didn't stop the gnawing guilt.

Ric strolled forward, and took the tie that had been draped over the armchair, moving Damon by the shoulder and centring him. "Today is your wedding day." He said, and looped the silk around his neck, adjusting its length and knotting the top. "That night in the tunnels, when Katherine was your priority, you thought this would never been a possibility. That it would only be a fantasy. You got the girl, Damon. And you'll see Stefan again, one day, one lifetime."

Damon lifted his chin, and forced one of those lopsided smiles everyone seemed to mistake for benignity. He nodded in appreciation, and shunned away the possibility that he would see Stefan again. He wouldn't give himself hope like that. Hope was a bitch, after all.

Though sitting on that armchair, the one Damon had previously flung his tie upon, was the brother he couldn't let himself believe lived after forever. Stefan sat, in his unseeable nothingness, and watched with a warmth in his green eyes—one that hadn't been there since they were children.

He thought, after all of the worry, he really was here, seeing what Damon deserved all along. And that, was the thing that brought him the most peace he'd had since death.

_____________________________________

The music began, and Bonnie's something old (a pair of Marie Gilbert's earrings) glimmered beautifully against the sun; nestled beneath the loops of Elena's chocolate curls. She took the first step, and got that same rush of warmth she had that day in the cemetery, the day her world had decided to flourish into something new… all by the presence of a crow and some fog.

Though today, the sun was brighter, and the rays were warm, and her smile was bigger than it had been before—the promise of forever sadness long gone. Happiness beginning now.

Jeremy clenched his arm around hers, and they walked in union down an aisle where white feathers were scattered in the centre. The exact ones Bonnie had used to showcase her magic for the first time.

Caroline's girls followed, and they tossed handfuls of red rose petals down the walk, giggling when reaching the end and scurrying into the laps of their mother and father.

Damon stood at the end, watching his fantasy finally catching up with him.

Elena left the arm of her brother—missing the sneaky flash of a middle finger to her beloved—and took his hand, watching the amusement only grow upon his face as he took in the twinkle of blue around her neck. His ring, he thought, and his chest only got heavier the more he waited. The more he endured the ceremony.

Let me have her, he thought, and recited the words blindly, fluently, uncaringly so.

Bonnie watched them, and Jeremy watched her, and there, was a first love that would never die. And in the distance, Niklaus zeroed in on the blonde to the right, whose heart was aching all too humanly for a vampire. Caroline yearned for Stefan, and tucked away a stray lock of hair to hide a tear, one little Lizzie and Josie frowned at.

The wedding came to a brief halt, just as the sun began setting in the sky—beautiful colours of orange and lazy pink and buttery yellow stretching across the apex. The 'I do's' were done, the guests had applauded, and Damon kissed Elena like it was the first time all over again.