Epilogue: A little down the road.

"This is a dumb idea."

Carlo sat in the passenger's seat, wringing his hands, his black hair just long enough for it to hang seductively over his blue eyes. He was the kind of guy who could have every girl in Venice and yet, the one girl he'd set his eyes on had turned out to be the one girl he shouldn't even have been looking at. Not only was she married, she was married to the head of the most powerful, wealthy family in all of Italy. That should've been enough for anyone to back off. And yet, he found himself unable to stop staring at her whenever she sat down next to him in class, unable to stop flirting with her whenever they talked. Maybe it was the fact that she was the one girl who never flirted back, the one girl who didn't swoon over him, that made her so intriguing. Or maybe it was just the fact that she was extraordinarily beautiful. And kind. Even though she wasn't interested in Carlo, she was always nice to him. Everyone liked her from the moment she'd come to l'Università Ca' Foscari di Venezia two years ago. There was just something about her. Something warm. Something irresistible.

"Come on, Carlo," Dante, his best friend, sighed. "We've been over this. She invited our entire class to celebrate the end of the school year and you not going would be pretty obvious."

Carlo rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, let's not pretend you're doing this for my sake. We both know you just always wanted to go to that house."

"Who wouldn't!" Dante exclaimed, giving up on the pretense. "Have you seen that house? I've been dreaming about getting in there for years! And you know the grub is going to be amazing!"

"Yeah, well, I hope you don't lose your appetite when her husband murders me."

"I won't."

Carlo started to smile, until Dante turned a corner and the famous, eighteen thousand square foot grand romantic estate came into view.

"Man, I wish I was rich."

Carlo ignored Dante, his heart racing as they drove through the private gates and ascended the long cobblestone driveway. A driveway that was already outlined with the most beautiful, expensive cars. Clearly, the guest list included more than just high school students.

"This is going to be epic," Dante sang, nudging Carlo towards the open, massive dual twenty foot high Murano glass doors.

"Holy−"Carlo whispered as they entered the astonishing foyer. The marble shined underneath Carlo's shoes while he looked up, staring at the exquisite fresco covering the arched ceiling.

"You came!"

Her angelic voice made Carlo's eyes snap from one work of art, to another, to the brunette girl who was hugging Dante. Now, at school, Elena Salvatore always wore jeans and a shirt and even in something as simple as that she looked irresistible. But today, she didn't just look irresistible. She looked impossible. How could anyone be that beautiful? And the red, spaghetti strap, sweetheart dress she was wearing didn't help his cause, which was being distant, yet nice and never flirtatious or drooling in any way. He was just a friend. She was just a girl. A gorgeous girl whose brown eyes were sparkling and who spoke Italian sexier than any native girl he'd ever met.

"Carlo," she sang, walking over to him. "Hey!"

"Hey."

She reached him and before he could stop himself, he was pressing a kiss to her cheek. God, she smelled good. Why did she have to smell so good?

"Welcome," she cheered, tucking a curl behind her ear. Carlo wondered if she'd made that move just to give him a better view on her finger, the finger that held a gold wedding ring underneath a silver one with a green stone in it and some sort of a crest. Was she subtly pointing out she was already taken?

"Elena," Dante said, cocking an eyebrow. "This place is amazing. Did you marry a prince or something?"

Elena laughed. "No, but my husband likes to think he is one."

"I heard that."

Dante and Carlo turned to face the man who'd entered behind them and if Carlo had held even the slightest of hopes he could still steal Elena away from her husband, that hope shattered the second he saw him. That was her husband? That was Damon Salvatore? Even as a man, he couldn't help but recognize he was handsome. Extremely handsome. And rich. Those two things alone would seriously put him behind in a potential race for her affection. But the thing that truly made him realize he didn't stand a chance, was the way Elena's eyes had lit up the second Damon had entered. It was like she came to life, like she did nothing but wait for him when he wasn't around.

"You were meant to hear," she sang when he reached her, curling an arm around her waist. Possessively. Elena clearly didn't mind, though. She leaned into him, hooking her fingers in his shirt, smiling up at him.

"Vixen," he whispered before kissing her in a way that wasn't really appropriate with Carlo and Dante standing right there.

"Did you get a hold of them?" Elena breathed when Damon released her lips.

"Yeah, they're on their way, but they'll be late. Their plane was delayed. Very delayed."

She smiled, biting her lip again. "But they're definitely coming?"

Damon smiled, cupping her cheek. "Yes, sweetness. They're coming."

Little sounds of happiness passed her lips, lips she pressed to his jaw in a way that actually made something inside Carlo pinch. Couldn't they stop touching each other, just for a little while?

"So," Damon said, kissing the top of Elena's head. "Are you going to introduce me or−"

Elena faced them again, her eyes wide. Clearly, she'd forgotten they were even there.

"Right," Elena said, shaking her head. "Sorry. Dante, Carlo, this is Damon Salvatore."

"Her husband," the man rumbled as he shook Carlo's hand.

The sideway glance from Dante told him he wasn't just being paranoid about the subtle threatening tone.

"I think they got that from the kissing and the matching last name, sweetheart," Elena said, her voice soft and yet there was a hint of a warning in it.

"I was just making it clear," Damon said before his blue eyes finally left Carlo's and moved to Dante who got a much briefer and more welcoming handshake.

"OK," Elena said when Damon wrapped his arm around her again. "There's food and drinks in the Great Room to your right and outside in the garden. If there's anything else you need, the kitchen is behind the fourth door to your left. Just pop in there and get whatever you need. Enjoy."

And with that, Elena grabbed Damon's hand and pulled him with her.

"You saw that, right?" Carlo whispered, following Dante who was already heading towards the room Elena had pointed to. "I'm not insane, right?"

Dante smiled wickedly, running his fingers through his dirty blond hair. "Nope, that man hates you."

"Thanks for the encouragement!"

"Hey," he laughed, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. "That's what friends are for."

The sky outside turned from sunny to dark as Carlo watched Dante mix with the crowd, hitting on every woman he came across.

Without success.

He could see the people in the garden−or maybe field was a better word for it since it was huge− through the glass wall. With most party's the crowd diminished as time passed, but for some reason, it seemed like more and more people showed up as the night turned darker. And they got more attractive, too. Still, no one compared to the smiling brunette who stood beside the pool, the bluish light from it reflecting on her hair and flawless skin.

"I'd forget about that, kid."

Carlo nearly jumped. He hadn't even noticed the blond standing next to him, though he should've. She was hard to miss. Slim with curves in all the right places, blond hair, greenish blue eyes. In short, she was a vision. And an American. Unlike Elena, her Italian was infused with a thick, American accent . She clearly hadn't been speaking it as long as her friend.

"Excuse me?" he asked when her words seeped in.

"Elena," the blond repeated, her eyes finding the girl she was referring to for a split second. "You don't stand a chance."

"I wasn't−"

"Sure you were."

"I'm sorry," Carlo said, cocking an eyebrow. "I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't give it."

His frown deepened, much to the blonde's amusement.

"I'm Caroline," she snickered, holding out her hand for him to shake. "Caroline Lockwood."

"Carlo Moretti." His eyes dropped to the hand he was shaking, to the fingers of which one held another golden ring.

"Unbelievable," he sighed, sniffing, his lips curling up in one corner.

"What?" she asked, taking a sip from her glass, her bright, red lipstick leaving no mark.

"You're married."

"I know."

"Is this a new rage?" he asked, his eyes finding Elena again. "Marrying young? I mean, you and Elena, you're, what, twenty? Twenty-one? How old were you when you got married?"

Caroline laughed, her eyes sparkling for some reason. "What's age? It's just a number."

"A very low number."

Another laugh. "Yeah, well, we were both lucky enough to find our soulmates early in life."

"Very early."

"You shouldn't fixate on age so much. It says nothing about the person. Elena and I were young when we married, yes, but we weren't foolish. We didn't rush into it. We said I do with our eyes and minds wide open. Granted, Elena and Damon seem like a very unlikely fit, but it's a fit none the less. They're perfect for each other. And trust me, that's not something I saw coming, it's not something I ever imagined even saying. In fact, like you, we hoped she'd find someone else. We thought he was the worst choice she could possibly make. We now see how wrong we were. So, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but they're meant to be. You don't stand a chance, kid."

He was about to comment on the fact that he wasn't a kid, that he was her age, when a muscled, tanned man came over, handing her a fresh drink.

"Thanks, honey," she sang, kissing his cheek sweetly. "This is Carlo."

"Carlo?" he repeated in a deep voice, giving him the once-over. And then, suddenly, Carlo could've sworn he saw a flicker of recognition in the man's eyes. "Oh, Carlo."

The man smiled, slapping his shoulder in a way he was sure would leave a bruise. "Nice to meet you, man. I'm Tyler Lockwood."

"My better half," Caroline sang, wrapping an arm around Tyler's waist.

"Oh no, you are definitely the better half," he growled.

Actually growled. Like an animal or something.

"Do you both live in Venice, too?" Carlo asked, wanting to break the sexual tension he suddenly found himself standing next to.

"No," Tyler said, tearing his eyes away from his wife. "Paris. We just came out here for the occasion."

"Seriously," Carlo said, frowning. "You came all the way out here to celebrate the end of the school year?"

"Hey," Caroline sang, her voice a little higher than before. "We were all in school once. We know how much it sucks. In fact, just thinking about it makes me need another drink. Let's go get another drink." She grabbed her husband's arm and added while already walking away, "Nice to meet you, Carlo."

And with that, Carlo was left alone again.

OK, that's it, he though, emptying his drink. I've endured enough. He's seen the house. We're leaving.

Which was easier said than done. Dante wasn't in the room with him anymore.

"Son of a−" Mumbling curses under his breath, he walked back across the foyer and headed for the kitchen. The dark kitchen.

When he flipped on the light, his heart jumped. A man was sitting on the counter, a bottle of something brownish in his hand. He looked somewhat familiar, although Carlo was sure he'd never met him.

"Sorry," he said when the man blinked against the sudden burst of light.

The guy just looked at him, his green eyes piercing his.

"Did you happen to see a blond guy come through here?" he asked, trying to break the silence.

"No," he said, taking another sip from the bottle. "Then again the lights were off, so−"

"Yeah," Carlo said as the man jumped of the counter. "Why exactly were you sitting in the dark?"

"I was hiding."

"From who?"

"Damon Salvatore."

Carlo's heart skipped a beat as the man cleared his throat, turning his face away from him for a split second.

"You know Damon Salvatore?"

"Oh," the man mumbled. "I know him."

"But you don't like him?"

"And he doesn't like me."

"Why's that?"

"I had a thing with his wife, a long time ago."

That, Carlo hadn't seen coming. "Elena Salvatore cheated on her husband with you?"

"Actually, she cheated on me with him. She was still Elena Gilbert back then."

"So, shouldn't he be the one hiding from you?"

The man laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes as he ran a hand through his short, brown hair. "Maybe, but I'm more afraid of him than he is of me. The thing is, Damon Salvatore is irrational. Crazy. Especially when it comes to her. He once threw me out of a window because I looked at her wrong. He's out of his mind."

"He threw you out of a window?"

"A second story one."

"No," Carlo said, trying to smile. "You're lying."

"I wish I was."

Even though he tried to deny the truth in what he was hearing, Carlo could feel his pulse race, his mind getting frantic.

"Did you report him to the police?" Carlo asked, hearing the little tremor in his voice.

The man laughed, although it sounded more like a whimper. "Are you insane? I would've been dead before I got to the police office."

"God," Carlo whispered, shaking his head in horror. "Why is she still with him if he's such a psychopath?"

"Oh, he never hurts her. Ever. It's just us he tortures."

Off all the girl he could've chosen, he'd just had to hit on the wife of a maniac.

A maniac he was currently in the house off.

The giant, maze of a house with so many empty rooms he could get tortured and killed in.

I have to get out of here! Now! I have to−

"What's going on here?"

Carlo jumped, turning to face Elena who was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes narrowed on the man who put down the bottle and ran his palms over his dark jeans.

"Hey, El," he said in English, trying to smile.

Elena didn't smile back. "What are you two doing?"

Carlo cleared his throat. "We were just−"

"Oh, no," Elena said in Italian again, her voice kind as she softly squeezed his arm for a second. "Not you." Her eyes found the man again. "Them."

The man raised his chin. "I don't know what−"

"Damon?" Elena suddenly bellowed, glancing at the other entrance across from her. "Damon Francesco Salvatore, I know you're here!"

It stayed silent for another long minute and then, her husband casually strolled in.

"Oh, hi, Honey."

Elena shook her head softly, clearly trying to hold back a smile.

"Are you two Salvatoring him?" she asked, her eyes switching between the two men. "Unbelievable! You are, aren't you? You two are trying to intimidate him. I swear to God," she added when the guys exchanged looks. "I liked you two better when you weren't getting along."

"I'm sorry," Carlo jumped in. "I don't get what's going on."

"They're being asses," Elena answered. "That's what's going on. Carlo, meet Stefan Salvatore. Damon's brother."

"His brother?" Carlo said as the guy gave him a little wave.

"Yup," Elena said, finding Damon's eyes again. "And apparently his new partner in crime."

"Come on, sweetness−" Damon rumbled, wiggling his eyebrows. "We were just−"

"Oh, I know what you were just," she said, trying to snap but not entirely pulling it off. "I swear, Stefan, I expected this from him, but you−"

"OK," Carlo interrupted, his mind still spinning. "I think it's time for me to go."

"Carlo," Elena sang. "You don't have to−"

"I really do," he said, already half way out of that kitchen. "Sorry, Elena. Thanks for inviting me and it was nice to see you again." His eyes flew to the two men. "And it was interesting meeting the both of you."

"Hey man," a familiar voice snickered as he stalked into the foyer. "Have you been upstairs? It's huge!"

Carlo barely looked at the man descending the stairs before he snapped. "We're leaving!"

"What? But−"

"Now!"

"Come on," Dante said, throwing his car in reverse and veering off the driveway. "Are you seriously telling me you didn't have fun?"

Carlo just glared at him and as they sped off into the night, the boy promised himself never to return to that place again.

"Come on, you're not still mad. You were never mad."

Elena sniffed, kicking off her heels. The last guests had finally left, except for Caroline, Tyler and Stefan who had their own rooms, and her feet were grateful.

"Sweetness−"

"Don't," she said, removing her earrings. "Don't try to sooth me. I have to see this guy in school! He's somewhat of a friend!"

"A friend who hit on you during our anniversary party."

"He didn't know it was our anniversary, did he? We told all the humans it was just an end of the school year party, so there wouldn't be any questions about our wedding and more importantly, our wedding date."

"Oh, OK," Damon laughed. "I guess it's fine then that he hit on my wife."

"He wasn't hitting on me!" Elena screamed frustrated. "Damn it, Damon, he's just a boy and you scared the crap out of him. You and Stefan."

Damon's lips curled up.

"You find that amusing?"

"No," he said, his eyes sparkling wickedly.

"Yes, you do!" Elena said, feeling her own lips curl up. "You arrogant, dominating−"

"Mmmmm, keep going," he growled, sliding over to her in that way that made her skin tingle. "I like it when you get all wound up."

"Shut up," Elena snickered, removing the pin from her curls. "You're not going to distract me. I'm angry."

"Sure you are."

"I am!"

"Mmmmm," he reached her, his thumb running over her jaw, his blue eyes following the trail of his fingers on her skin. A skin that was now blazing. Even after all these years, she still hadn't gotten used to her vampire senses, not when it came to the effect he had on her. One small touch and she was lost. In fact, when he was around−which was pretty much always− not touching him, was literally impossible.

"Stop it," she whispered, feeling her eyes flutter shut as his fingers trailed down her neck, to the sweetheart neckline. "I'm still−"

"−angry," he finished for her as he leaned in closer. "You said that already."

She wanted to react, but before she could, his warm lips where on her neck, his tongue grazing the sensitive skin underneath.

Her fingers found his hair, entwining in it, clutching it as she fought against the pressure that was building up inside.

Roughly, Damon pushed one strap of her dress down, sucking the skin there until it hurt just right.

Elena moaned, her body arching against him.

"He deserved it, you know," he growled, his warm breath tickling her ear.

Now, even as a human, Elena was stubborn, but as a vampire, that stubbornness had reached a whole new level and it was that stubbornness that overpowered her lust and pushed him away from her.

"You son of a−"

Before she could finish, she was shoved against the window, her arms pinned over her head with one hand as his other hand found her panties, ripping them off her burning sex.

"You're mine, Elena," he growled, his nails trailing up her inner thigh, making her moan loudly. "The boy needed to learn that."

Before she'd met Damon Salvatore, Elena would've considered herself a very emancipated woman, but the truth was, in Damon arms, in his heat, she wasn't emancipated in the least. She loved his jealousy. His dominance. The way he made her obey and the way she gave in willingly.

The grip on her wrists tightened as he pushed himself between her legs and rumbled in her ear, "If he looks at you like he did when you came down those stairs again, I'll rip his eyes out."

She could feel his free hand move between them, unzipping his pants and before she could so much as moan from the friction, he was inside of her. Hard. Showing her who she belonged to. Like she could forget.

"Oh, fuck," she screamed out as he pumped himself deeper. They were still fully dressed, he'd been impatient to be inside of her, and the lace from her dress rubbed her skin sensually, tickling her ass and thighs, adding to the pleasure.

"Say you're mine, misses Salvatore," he ordered, his nails digging into her hips. "Say it."

"I'm yours," Elena breathed, her voice high. "Always. Forever. God, don't stop fucking me. I'm almost coming."

"Maybe I won't let you come this time," Damon said, biting her lip. "Maybe that's your punishment for defending the boy."

Elena shook her head frantically, throwing it back against the window that was already stained with sweat. "Please, no."

"Yeah," he growled, releasing her wrist so he could grab her ass and hold her in place as he fastened his pace. "Maybe I'll just come inside of you right now and leave you unsatisfied."

Her nails dug into his shoulders, ripping his shirt. "Don't," she begged, trying to push him back, trying to get him on their bed so she could ride him until she found her release. But he was older, stronger. She was no match. At least not physically.

"Fighting me, Love?"

Damon liked her wound up. He liked it when her cheeks turned pink, when her eyes shot fire, when she tried to resist him. It made everything more intense, hotter, if that was even possible in their lives. Even after all these years, Damon Salvatore's body and soul still reacted to her like it did on the first day and if there was one thing he knew without a shadow of a doubt, it was that that would never change, not even if they lived a thousand years together. He would always and forever love that woman who was trying to glare through her haze of lust.

"You know you can't overpower me, Love," Damon breathed, slowing his rhythm down as he formed little circles inside of her, a move that he knew would drive her crazy. It kept her on the verge, but never pushed her over, just the way he wanted it. "I'm in control, Elena. I'm the one who decides whether you climax or not. Me."

And then, she whispered something that made the animal inside him roar.

"Maybe I'll just ask Carlo, then."

Before he knew what he was doing, he had her pinned down on the floor, lust and jealous raging inside of him as he stared down at her, his cock driving into her in a way human Elena wouldn't even have survived. Vampire Elena however, dug her nails into the oak floors and matched his pace with her own hips, forcing him in even deeper, harder.

And then, he felt her walls tighten and she exploded around him, her hands fisting in his hair.

That's when Damon figured out what she'd done. She knew that bringing Carlo up would drive him crazy, make him need to show her he could satisfy her.

More than a little proud, he stared down at her black eyes and that wicked smile on her plumb lips. "Misses Salvatore, you're devious."

"I learned that from my husband."

"God, I love it when you call me that."

He moved inside of her again, driving himself to his own climax. Each of his thrusts made Elena shiver and tremble underneath him, still sensitive from her own orgasm. Finally, he stiffened as he plunged deep inside her, the hot jets of his release making Elena arch up from the floor.

As Damon slowly pulled out of her, her body clenched around him, wanting to keep him buried inside.

"I love make-up sex," Elena panted as they clutched each other, their sweaty foreheads plastered together.

"That wasn't make-up sex, sweetness," Damon smiled. "That was angry sex."

"Please, I wasn't angry," Elena admitted, kissing his neck.

Damon laughed, smacking her butt lightly. "Told you."

"Yeah, yeah," Elena snickered. "You know me too well."

"No such thing."

She smiled at that compliment, staring into the bright blue eyes of her husband. She was married to Damon Salvatore and it still seemed unreal. Damon Salvatore was her husband. She was Damon Salvatore's wife. And they were happy. Happier than she ever thought she could be. Her whole world had come together peacefully. Her friends had accepted Damon and vice versa. Stefan was back and the brothers were going strong and she was with the man she loved, the man she would love forever.

"Just so you know," Damon rumbled, running his fingertips over her bare arms. "If you ever again suggest another man could lay his hands on you, I'll find that man and cut those hands off."

Elena buried her face in his neck, laughing. "Damon, there's no man out there who I could ever want more than I want you. Who I could ever love more than I love you. And you know that."

"I know," he rumbled, pushing her body closer to his. "But that doesn't mean other men won't put the moves on you and I hate it."

Elena propped herself up on an elbow, her now brown eyes piercing his. "Damon, do you know what it's like to walk the streets of Venice with you? Every single woman, and I mean that literally, eye-fucks the hell out of you and believe me, each and every one of them would love to put more than just the moves on you. You don't think I fantasize about drowning them in a canal? I do. But then I remember, you love me and I know that no matter how desperately they try, you would never betray me."

Damon smiled sweetly, kissing her nose. "Never."

"So just remember that the next time some stupid boy comes along," she sang, tugging at the strand of hair in his neck. "Just remember I'd rather die than hurt you."

Cupping her cheek, he kissed each corner of her mouth, sweetly.

Smiling, Elena jumped on her feet, stretching. "I'm going to get out of this dress and take a long, hot shower. Can you check their flight information? They should've landed by now."

He bent his head theatrically. "Your wish, my command, misses Salvatore."

Misses Salvatore, she thought, smiling broadly as the hot water slithered downed her body. Who would've thought.

"They'll be here in the morning!" Damon yelled from the other room as Elena stepped out from under the shower.

She sighed, tying her silk robe. "Can we go pick them up then? Tomorrow? I'd hate for them to have to get a cab all the way out here. Besides−"

She opened the door to her bedroom and just like that, all the words escaped her. The lights were turned off, but the room was filled with candles, the orange flames dancing on their huge bed and the pictures of their wedding, their family, their friends.

"What is this?" Elena whispered, staring at the man who was lying in their bed, only wearing a pair of pants now, his hands behind his head as he watched her closely.

"Come over here and I'll tell you," he said, patting the space on the bed beside him.

Shaking her head, Elena tiptoed between the candles and joined him on the matrass, kissing him as soon as she reached him.

"Damon Salvatore, the romantic."

"Well," he said, pulling a little box out from underneath the pillow. "It's a pretty special occasion."

"Sweetheart," she sang, shaking her head. "I thought we weren't going to do this. We said no presents. Remember, we said last year that if we were going to buy each other gifts every anniversary as immortals, we'd run out of ideas."

Damon did that eye-thing he did, rumbling, "And you bought that?"

She sighed dramatically, "No, I didn't."

Smiling, Damon watched her pull a little box of her own out from under the matrass, putting it down on his chest. "Happy twentieth anniversary, Salvatore."

"And to you, Salvatore."

Biting her lip, Elena tore the paper of the box, a box that held the most beautiful necklace she'd ever seen. The chain was made of rose gold with diamonds set over the entire length and in the middle there was a locket sparkling with diamonds as well and a rose gold E decorating the center.

"Damon," she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief. "It's beautiful."

Those blue eyes glistening, he reached for the locket and opened it, revealing two small pictures inside. On one side of the locket was a picture of them dancing on her seventeenth birthday in the Salvatore Boarding House when she still didn't know where she stood with the oldest Salvatore, when she was still officially dating Stefan and on the other side was a picture of them dancing on their wedding, smiling, both of them absolutely sure there was nothing in this world that could possibly break them apart.

She didn't realize she was crying until Damon's thumb grazed her cheek, wiping away a single tear. Elena just smiled at him in responds. There were no words needed to express how she felt in that moment. Not between them.

"Now," Damon said, sitting up straighter. "My turn."

"OK," Elena said, nervous as he unwrapped his gift. "Just so you know, it doesn't top your gift in any way. It doesn't even match it, but I didn't know you were going to give me something so amazing, so−"

She trailed off as he took the gift out of the box.

"You're giving me my watch?" he asked, confused.

"Yes."

"I thought I lost this."

"You didn't. I took it."

He frowned. "To wrap it and give it back to me?"

Elena rolled her eyes, scooting into his side. "Just turn it over."

Damon did and when he read the inscription, his entire body glowed in that way only Elena could induce.

"If Love is a trap," he read aloud, his voice filled with emotion. "There's no one I'd rather be trapped with than with you. Happy anniversary, my love. Your Elena, forever."

She squirmed against him. "Like I said, I didn't know you were going to give me that necklace. If I had, I would've−"

She was cut off by Damon's mouth on hers, kissing her in that sweet way that warmed Elena's heart.

"It's perfect," he whispered against her lips. "You are perfect. Thank you."

Elena just kissed him, reveling in his warmth, in his touch as they changed their angle towards each other until she was on her back, underneath him.

"God," Damon sighed, staring down at her with those bright blue eyes. "You have no idea how much I love you, misses Salvatore."

Elena smiled, cupping his cheek. "However much, I can guarantee you I love you more, mister Salvatore."

"Not possible," he growled, before claiming her in every way possible.

After twenty years, Elena instinctively knew when Damon wasn't next to her in bed. Even before she'd opened her eyes, she could feel his absence in every fiber of her being. Her mind racing, her eyes snapped open, staring at the empty space beside her.

"Damon?" Elena whispered, picking her bathrobe up from where Damon had thrown it on the floor.

No responds.

Frowning, Elena opened the soundproof door and let out a sigh of relief. Sounds of cutlery and laughter streamed in, guiding her downstairs.

"−pancakes are vital," Damon said, his voice too serious for the subject. "Now, I can make them in all different shapes and sizes. Any preferences?"

Children's high pitched voices started yelling things just as Elena walked in the kitchen to find Matt and her brother and Bonnie sitting at the kitchen island while two of her three nieces were flocked around Damon who was pouring dough into a pan. Jeremy held his wife's hand as he whispered in her ear, making her laugh and Matt was checking out the plasma-tv above the fireplace. They looked happy, content and even though they were older, they still looked like they did twenty years ago. Sure, there were one or two wrinkles that hadn't been there before, but their eyes still sparkled, their smiles still lit up the room.

"Good morning, Love." Damon was the first to notice her, looking at her in that wicked way that made memories of the night before come flooding back.

The second her brother noticed her, he jumped on his feet and stalked over to her, pulling her into a bear hug.

"Hey, big sister," he whispered as Elena clutched him to her, smiling.

"Hey, baby brother."

He pulled back, sniffing. "I'm not exactly a baby anymore."

And then Bonnie's arms were around her.

"I'm glad you made it," Elena said, smiling at her best friend.

"Hey, I wasn't about to refuse a free trip to Venice."

"And neither was I," Matt jumped in before kissing her on the cheek. "This place is awesome, by the way! Have you seen your pool?"

"Yes," Elena snickered. "Once or twice. And how are my two beautiful nieces?"

The girls didn't even look away from Damon.

"Sorry, Love," Damon said, shrugging. "I'm the pancake King. You can't compete."

Laughing, Elena walked over to her husband. "You were supposed to wake me up," she whispered, kissing him good morning. "We were supposed to pick them up together."

"I know, but you looked so beautiful and I figured you needed your rest after the night we had."

She bit her lip, pointing at the kids.

"What?" Damon rumbled. "Like they know what I'm talking about."

"Their parents do," Jeremy smiled. "So, stop."

Elena snickered, hopping on the counter beside Damon. "So, how's everything back home?"

"Good," Bonnie chirped, drinking from her glass of fresh squeezed orange juice. "Jenna and Alaric send their love. They're babysitting Amelia. She's still too young for the long flight out here."

"How is my tiny niece doing?"

"Great!" Jeremy exclaimed. "I swear, she looks like you."

"Then the future generation of men better watch out," Damon rumbled, winking at Elena.

"She's the one who should watch out," Elena smiled, pinching Damon's side, earning herself another one of his famous smiles.

Above them, floorboards creaked. Not that the humans in the room noticed, but Damon and Elena could hear it clear as day.

"Okay," Damon announced, topping of the stack of pancakes with fresh berries. "Breakfast time. The late sleepers are on their way."

Bonnie had just gotten her daughters at the table when Stefan, Caroline and Tyler walked in, their eyes still sleepy.

"Full house," Stefan smiled before kissing Bonnie and shaking Matt's and Jeremy's hand.

"Hey guys!" Caroline exclaimed, throwing hugs around with Tyler right behind her. "So good to see you!"

"Pancakes!" two young voice suddenly yelled as Damon put the stack down. Everyone laughed and sat down. But not Elena. She sat on that counter, watching everyone interact, smile, laugh. Caroline was trying to stop the girls from attacking the pancakes, without success. Bonnie laughed, watching her try and Tyler, Stefan, Matt and Jeremy started catching up, loudly.

It was hectic.

It was loud.

It was perfect.

And Damon, Damon was just watching her. She caught his gaze in the middle of one of Tyler's booming laughs and in his eyes, she could see he was thinking the same thing she was.

Thinking about the first time they'd met.

About how they'd fallen in love. Reluctantly.

About how they'd overcome every obstacle in their path: Christian and Max, Hertz, Katherine, even Stefan and her friends.

About how every bump in the road had brought them to this point, to this kitchen where their friends and family were laughing, enjoying each other, without judgment, without prejudice. The room was filled with pure friendship and love and it was heaven.

"Hey Salvatores," Stefan rumbled, holding up his hands. "Are you two coming or what?"

Elena just laughed, and old memory of a dream pushing to the surface as Damon swept her off the counter and carried her to their seat.

As she rested in his arms, his lips against her forehead, Damon remembered how hard he'd fought against his feelings for her in the very beginning. How much he'd wished he could get her out of his head, out of his heart. And now, as he sat down with her on his lap and looked around the table, he once again realized how doing so would've ruined his life. Not only had Elena Gilbert made him a better man, not only had she saved him from a miserable, lonely existence, she'd also given him something he never thought he could have again.

A family. Not just his brother, but hers, too. And Bonnie, her nieces who he adored, Caroline, Tyler, hell, even the quarterback. They'd become his family.

And it was all thanks to her.

Laughing at something Stefan had said, Elena leaned back against him, resting her cheek against his, her hand lazily caressing his leg. Smiling, he gently took that hand and entwined their fingers, watching her lips curl up too in responds.

And that was all he needed. All he would ever need. Elena's hand in his. Elena's smile. As long as he had that, as long as he had her, everything was going to be perfect.

Forever.

...And thus, it ends. Once again, I want to stress how much I truly loved your reviews, your PM's, your encouragement. This was the first time I ever wrote anything for an audience and to get such a responds...heartwarming. Not only did you guys inspire me to keep writing on this story, you also inspired me to start writing books again, to try again and again to put my story to paper and to not get frustrated if it takes a while. After all, I now know it takes time to create something, well, creative. And, if I do happen to ever get published, I'll be sure to acknowledge you guys :-)!

I hope you loved reading the story as much as I loved writing it and I'll be sure to return to try my hand at another DELENA story if the inspiration strikes me.

So, once more: xxxx LustAndLove