Valentina realizes too late that this is all a mistake. She should not have come here. She should not be here now. She doesn’t want to cause a scene but she can’t help the way her eyes are scanning the room, looking for any possible way out without without bringing any more attention to herself than necessary.

As her eyes lock on a door near the stage, she feels the familiar cool breeze take over her, forcing her eyes to focus on Damon instead. His questioning gaze has her glancing over to Elliot who is still making his way towards them. When Valentina looks back to Damon, his eyes are focused on Elliot. Understanding quickly takes over his features and the detached mask that he's been wearing since they stepped out of the carriage settles back into place before anyone can notice.

Elliot stops in front of Damon and Valentina, his wife, Ava, stepping closely to his side. Smiling wide, Elliot releases his wife’s arm and stretches them wide to Damon.

“My friend! How glad I was to hear you could make it to the celebration!” Elliot practically shouts. He pulls Damon into an awkward embrace that Damon does not return.

“Of course,” Damon says, his voice slightly rigid from the public affection and his mind going a mile a minute at the realization of who he is to Valentina.

Elliot releases Damon and steps back to Ava's side, still beaming at him.

“I was shocked to hear your parents wouldn’t be in attendance, at least for the ceremony. My parents were looking forward to reconnecting with them,” Elliot says.

“They send their apologies,” Damon says, no hint of warmth in his tone.

“Dear friend, I would love for you to meet my wife,” Elliot says, turning to Ava standing silently next to him. She looks up at Damon, being a good few inches shorter than the two men standing in front of each other and gives him a slow once over.

When her eyes latch onto him again, he can see the clear appreciation of his frame in her eyes and it takes everything in him not to step back. Damon nods once but says nothing.

Elliot's smile stiffens for a brief moment, watching the encounter before he lets it relax and he turns to Damon again.

“And who did you bring-” Elliot's question is cut short when his eyes find Valentina.

The last time he saw those eyes, there was confusion and hurt in them, shock that he was leaving her and that he had already spoken to her father about his absence. The last time he saw those eyes, the last time he had been this close to the element locked in that necklace, he had kissed her worries away, reassuring her that he would come back, a lie in every word, an empty promise in each kiss.

Standing before her now, he sees the beautiful woman she has grown into. When he knew her, she still had that youthful beauty to her. Now, he can see that all that youthfulness has faded and in its place, something more ethereal and stunning, too gorgeous for words to accurately depict.

Elliot can feel his wife tugging at him silently to stop staring but it’s as if he’s been possessed and he can’t. He can only keep on looking, searching for the woman he knew in the familiar stranger before him. Elliot is taken back to those first few weeks home, when he went out every night and came back when the sun was rising every morning. He can see it like a movie in his mind, the endless drinking, the vicious arguments and fights with his parents, the quiet hours of the morning when he would pen every imaginable apology onto paper, knowing he would never get to send a single one.

He feels the same feelings of guilt and shame, that he had left behind the only woman he had ever truly loved the day he left her in her father’s farm. He closes his mouth, unaware that he had left it open in the first place and pulls his lips into a tight smile. He turns back to Damon, noticing for the first time her hand, the same hand he held once upon a time, tucked into his arm.

The tight smile he wears gets impossibly tighter. He looks up to Damon, being shorter than the man by just a hair and clears his throat, reiterating his question.

“Who did you bring with you for the celebration, my friend?” Elliot chokes on the last word. This man, Damon, cannot possibly be a friend when he poured his heart out to him for weeks about the very girl he now stands with. It dawns on Elliot that he had not once told Damon what her heart was made out of.

Elliot heart silently chastises himself, knowing there was no way his friend would have made the connection between him and the girl with the fire heart. Elliot just barely pays attention to the stiff introduction of Valentina when the room goes quiet again, the only sound is the low music coming from the orchestra on the stage.

“What a pleasure to meet you, miss. If I had known we would have two of the rarest elements in attendance, I would have invited you both to come stay here with me and my wife in our home,” Elliot blurts out smoothly. He realizes his mistake too late, his wife pushing her heel into his shin in a quick and practiced move. He shoots her a warning look, not wanting to get into it with her and hoping he can barrel through the rest of this conversation without another idiotic comment.

“Thank you, but we are glad to be in the country home,” Damon politely declines, though the informal invitation feels forced.

“Of course, of course. Shall we get you two seated then?” Elliot questions.

Damon nods once, stepping to the side and gently pulling Valentina with him. Some time during the encounter, the two chaperones had made their way to their designated table, leaving the Damon and Valenti without any other buffers or defenses.

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