Bad Day

Here's a random string of sentences which together will form some sort of coherent story. Dedicated to everyone who reviewed my first fanfic, "Please, Please, Don't Leave Me"

Enjoy

Damon walked into the bar, clad in his black leather jacket. It shone in the light - It was raining outside. Pissing down. It was rain mixed with - - - - - .

His hair clung against his forehead. He was wet – soaked. It gave his hair an even darker appearance - charcoal black, just like his heart. He kept his tinted sunglasses on despite the darkness of the night and the low-light within the four walls.

Damon was glad for the rain; the way the raindrops smacked into the puddles outside was truly a soothing sound. They helped to block out his thoughts; recurring thoughts which plagued his mind relentlessly.

Dark black boots squelched against the floor as Damon made his way across the bar. He took a seat, leaning forward as he rested his elbows on the counter. "Scotch, neat," Damon ordered as he slid a bill across the table. "Keep 'em coming."

He kept his face down as the rain water dripped down the spikes of hair and trickled off the edge of his nose, washing away any evidence of his - - - - -.

A glass was slid across the countertop which Damon caught it effortlessly. Fast reflexes. His fingers traced the edge of the glass, a ghost of a touch as his fingertips followed the sharp contours of the transparent tumbler. He was lost in thought. He could still feel the warmth on his hands despite the countless times he had washed them. It was then that he understood the inner workings of Lady Macbeth's mind; the constant reminder of a loss which slowly pulled them down into insanity until one day, they could go on no more.

Damon picked the glass up; he held it tight in his hands for a moment before he swirled the liquid within and pressed the rim of the glass to his lips. He tipped the contents down his throat in one, two, three gulps, and slammed the glass down; sighing as he did so. He had nothing better to do, no one to see - not anymore.

He motioned to the bartender for a top-up.

"Bad day?" The bartender asked.

Damon grunted in response and shifted his eyes to his refilled drink. He didn't particularly feel like pouring his soul to a wannabe counsellor, working nightshifts to pay for his course. He watched as the man walked away and quickly got to work on serving a pretty young blonde, subtly flirting in attempts of getting her number.

"You have no fucking idea," Damon muttered to himself as he took the glass in his hands and lifted it up in a toast. "To you, - - - - - .

Today, Damon kissed Elena, or so he had thought

A cruel act of fate had sold him short

Instead, today, it was Katherine he kissed

A kiss, Elena was sure to have missed

It was only hours later, he had realised his fault

He stumbled in and heard her heart halt

Yet, she spoke before her demise

She told him how she loved him, through her cries

Another day, he would be overjoyed

Instead, he felt like he'd just been destroyed

But for now, he'd drink until he could drink no more

Then tomorrow, he'd go off to settle the score

He'd kill Katherine Pierce

With the very same knife

That she had used to end her life

And only then, would he finally be free

He'd die to spend an eternity

With the love he had lost, far too soon

And they'd finally be together, like the sun and moon.

The End

I'm sorry I killed Elena, it just happened, and sorry I hinted to Damon's suicide. How very R&J… Just curious, did anyone get what the missing words were?

This was never planned to become a poem, it just happened, though I think it turned out decent-ish. If you didn't get what this was about, feel free to inbox me and I'll explain :)

-Kara