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The kitchen stands. The mess contained, the smell minimal. It’s more than Damon could’ve hoped for when the smoke alarm woke him up. Elena doesn’t notice him until he gives in and laughs, throwing open the window and doors to air out the smoke.
“Yes, very funny,” she snarks, her own smile betraying her. “The bacon’s a bit burnt, but the rest is just fine.”
Damon settles into a dining chair across the room. “I like my bacon crispy anyway.”
She piles two plates high with crispier-than-normal bacon, runny fried eggs, and buttered toast, pours two generous mugs of coffee, and joins him. He can’t help but watch her as they eat; he can’t hear her heartbeat clearly anymore, can’t follow the jump of her pulse with his own, can’t smell her own scent under the burnt food, and finds he doesn’t completely miss them. They’ve moved around a couple of times since she woke up, stayed ahead of whispers surrounding Mystic Falls, Stefan’s death, Damon’s sudden disappearance from the supernatural world. Nothing that really touched them, but with the cure running through his veins better safe than sorry. And in that year, Elena’s shone brighter and brighter, each day they’re alive a gift now, each moment treasured. They settled in Connecticut a month ago, in a city busy enough to get lost in but out of the way enough to have no connection to them, to stay awhile so Elena can finish college and he can figure out life, sort out the Salvatore fortune before people notice, and ready themselves for a more permanent move north west when she one day starts medical school and he can open the bar they own. She’s cut her hair, much shorter than normal, and he thinks he might actually need glasses, they’re both wonderfully, happily human and everything is finally perfect.
Elena smiles, absently checking her face. “What?” she asks and Damon decides it’s time.
“I just need to grab my phone,” he says, letting go of his fork and shifting as if to stand.
Elena beats him to it, as he knew she would, already on her feet. “I’ll get it.”
“Thanks, it should be in my coat pocket.”
She moves with a little skip in her step, not obvious but obviously matching her good mood. He can’t really hear her rummaging through his stuff; he doesn’t need a vampire’s hearing to catch her gasp. She runs back through the hall and slides to a stop in front of him, bare feet catching on her pyjama pants. His reflexes are slower, her fall is inconsequential, giving him time to stand and catch her. Elena doesn’t seem to notice, the box in her hand held out between them. A squeak slips out, he thinks it’s supposed to be his name.
Damon takes it and opens it, revealing the diamond engagement ring. He bought it years ago, back when he was still a vampire, just after buying the bar and just before Stefan tried to mess with him for her sake. They’re much more careful with money right now, not wanting to be found, and while it’s not overly extravagant or particularly huge - that’s not really Elena’s style - it’s obviously expensive, with two little diamonds enclosing a bigger diamond. Tears trickle down her cheeks, her face beaming as she waits.
He gets down on one knee and contemplates a speech. Except she knows it all already, they’ve been through more than most and he did the big, grand gesture when they stood together in the barn and he told her he wanted to be human with her and when they found their way back to each other at Stefan’s memorial and he reminded her, already human, that he meant it.
So it really only comes down to a question, and if he’s judging the way she’s watching him correctly he already knows the answer.
“Will you marry me, Elena?”
Her hand is out first, Elena nodding between sniffling and forcing out a soft, “Yes.”
Damon slips the ring on the right finger, Elena watching it rest in place and Damon watching her. As soon as he lets go, she pulls him up and crashes into him, arms tight around his neck as she covers his face in kisses.
“I love you, Mr. Salvatore.”
“I love you, too, Future Mrs. Salvatore.”
Elena melts, hearing it, and hides her face in his neck. “I could get used to that.”