Elena is cognizant enough to observe that he remains quiet, despite the muddled and drowsy nature of her thoughts and movements. Damon goes quiet every now and then, ever since his return on Thanksgiving, so it's nothing she thinks twice about. He's gone quiet after what happened with Freya's mirror, and Elena doesn't have to ask to know what is running through his head. All the ways he could have stopped it. All the ways he wants someone to hurt because she is hurting. All the ways to keep her safe now.

She inches closer, taking in a deep breath. She smells leather and the faintest hint of bourbon.

The fact she doesn't open her eyes conveys a deep level of comfort and trust, but she hasn't let herself fall back to sleep just yet. Not when he was pacing. Not when he is this quiet. She presses a kiss to his chest.

"What is it?"