amy's going to bed, so we can just do elena/v tags for now \o/
[ it's hard to breathe even while he's smirking, reacting, saying nonsense about responsibility and forethought. it has nothing do with what he's thinking or feeling, and she knows that. it's not until he says okay that she feels she can exhale.
her lashes flutter, and she sets her jaw against the wave of emotion pushing out of her. relief, contentment, self-assurance. whatever boiling pit of shame in her stomach for assuming so much so selfishly, for wanting so much so suddenly, quiets to a simmer.
she licks her lips and turns to the kiosk to await an answer, her fingers brushing and curling slightly over his, only to spare damon a seriously look at the mention of vows -- but it barely even rates considering how she's feeling. ]