The wind and sunlight tangles in her dark hair, coaxing the red undertones to stand out and shine, and her skin glows as he watches her dip her feet into the water. There are other people around- shrieking, laughing children who run to the edge of the surf and dart back to safety when the low tide washes in, sunbathers; bits and pieces of dozens of conversations float around them, the Italian tongue soothing in its own way - but all Damon is focused on is her. All he can see is Elena as the breeze whips her hair and the white lightweight dress around her delicate frame when she looks over her shoulder and smiles warmly at him.

~..~..~

Still, he watches her sleep, five years after he's first laid eyes on her. He still strokes her cheek so softly in the darkness that she doesn't wake, just shifts a bit, unconsciously leaning into his touch.

~..~..~

Damon opens his mouth obligingly every time she holds a sample of tiramisu or boconnotto to his lips. He keeps a close eye on Elena as she wanders through the small italian market that she's become so fond of during their two month stay. It's always the same thing; she ooh's over a new pastry or a piece of fresh produce before tasting it, before urging him to try it. He doesn't tell her that he's been to this market dozens of times before, and that he's tried everything that's worth trying. Instead, he makes a smart remark about her trying to fatten him up before he opens up, allowing her to pop whatever treat it is this time into his mouth. Her eyes always sparkle up at him when she inquires how he likes it, and he always leans down and says against her lips that while it's not bad, he's tasted better.

~..~..~

He loves the way her body feels pressed up against his as they move slowly to the music. The small authentic restaurant is a new discovery for him, and the moment he sees it while he makes a breakfast run one morning while Elena sleeps in, Damon knows that she will love it.

Now they're swaying to the soft music with her face is buried in his neck and he closes his eyes against her hair; it smells of the beach and her shampoo, and Damon grips her a little tighter to him.

~..~..~

His fingers are buried in her hair, and his thumb strokes her cheek as she sighs against his lips. She is all around him, invading all of his senses, consuming him from the inside out. He feels alive.

~..~..~

The camera moves slowly through the large villa, taking in the antique feel; the heavy dark wood furniture and creamy colors. By the lighting it looks like very early morning, and the camera moves towards a set of huge white doors. A small hand pushes one door open softly, and the angle changes so that it shows a man laying on the rumpled cream sheets. His hair looks even darker than usual resting against the pillows, and his expression is peaceful.

The focus shakes a bit as Elena tip toes towards the bed, and settles as softly as she can among her recently vacated spot. Damon stirs, but doesn't wake. There a few muffled sounds and a small click and the camera zooms in slowly, slips out of focus, zooms back out a bit, and when the picture is clear, it shows Damon shifting again. This time his eyes open and he blinks at the sunlight hitting his eyes. It takes a moment for him to notice Elena sitting next to him, but when he does, he squints one eye at the camera and smiles. "Not fair," he says sleepily, and Elena giggles.

"You're cute when you wake up," floats her quiet voice, and the angle shifts a bit so that she can take in his rumpled hair.

"I'm cute all the time." He lays back, and closes his eyes. One hand moves to rest on one of Elena's folded legs, and he rubs it gently as he breathes in and out. She watches him until his hand slows gradually and then stops and he's fallen back asleep. The camera turns off.

~..~..~

Her eyes are smiling even as she wrinkles her nose when he cups her flushed cheeks, and kisses her forehead in the middle of the crowded street

~..~..~

When she comes back to the villa with the tiny, mangy looking pug puppy and insists on keeping it just for the rest of the trip, he doesn't bother pointing out that there's no way she's going to be able to separate herself from the little thing when it's time for them to leave. It's then that he realizes that he doesn't know when that is and that it doesn't really matter.

They name him Mirtillo

~..~..~

Her hand finds his distractedly and she twines their fingers together as she peers at the vendor's brightly colored flowers.

~..~..~

She is walking and talking animatedly until she turns and sees the camera recording her. Her hand flies up to block the lens, but the angle shifts and there is a greater distance between her and the person filming. Elena laughs as she pleads for Damon to turn it off.

"I look horrible today," she pouts playfully, and camera moves closer to her. She tries to lift her hands again but Damon's own hand comes into view to show him gently pushing them away. She looks to the side, her attention momentarily drawn by something out of frame, but soon her gaze is back on him.

His hand is visible again as he raises it to caress her ear. Her eyes close briefly and she gives a small smile. "You look wonderful. I promise," comes his smooth, amused, voice. They are still for a moment and all that can be heard is the Rome traffic.

Her eyes, when they open, are warm, and she clears her throat. "I'm hungry."

The frame shakes as Damon laughs, and the camera changes angles when they begin walking again. "When are you not?"

The camera shuts off just as a delighted cry of "Gelato!" is heard.

~..~..~

The cream and baby blue bedroom is bathed in the golden light of a risen sun high in the sky, and the breeze causes the delicate curtains to flutter. She decided to take a small nap after an early breakfast on the balcony and Damon is glad for it. It's given him time to work up his courage. He'd scoured all around Italy, but he'd finally found the person to do it, a woman who assured him that the diamond and white gold band could be enchanted to work just like his own.

The blood red velvet box seems to weigh a ton in his hand.

He settles on the bed next to her still form, and watches her for a few moments. Her hair cascades over her shoulder and down her back to spill onto the pillow. Her eyelashes brush her cheeks, and her soft lips are parted slightly. So peaceful, and beautiful. His. He swallows the small lump in his throat, and fixes a small smile on his face before he gently smoothes a hand up and down the soft skin of her thigh. She shifts before opening her eyes, and the smile she gives takes his breath away.