Damon lifts his eyebrows up curiously at the Something like that. There's a tiny smirk on his face, because well, the only relationships that he has in his life are all complicated, impossible. It was impossible that Elena should care about him, and yet she did-- she does.

He's used to thinking of her in the painful past tense way that tore open his chest.

"Something like that," he says quietly, lifting up his glass as if in response, as if in toast to relationships that are something like that.