Okay honestly I have no idea where this story is going. I don't know if there's a point to it or how it will end or if there's any reason for it. I just felt like writing a character of my own because I'm not feeling the Damon they've been writing lately. Anyway, I hope you don't hate it too much and let me know what you think.

Love,

BamonTivaLove

I suppose I could've walked away. I knew better than to trust someone like him, someone whose kind I was more familiar with than I cared to be. Every instinct in me told me not to get involved, not to let him in.

"It's funny how witches always end up involved in our mess," he observed, turning his cup of water around and around.

"Yeah well most of us have become your damage control," I replied, still unsure about him.

He laughed and nodded. "Yeah well, vampires can be pretty damn stupid."

I couldn't help it. I let out a laugh and I almost got up to walk away, knowing I was stupid to feel anything other than fear for him.

Then I saw his smile when he made me laugh and it was genuine. It was honest and it felt the most real of anything I'd seen in a while. So I allowed it to happen and I couldn't have stopped it if I tried.

Francois had been just 19 years old when he was turned in 1507. He was born into a prominent aristocratic French family and knew he couldn't stay after he'd learned what had happened to him.

"My father would have had me killed on the spot," he said. "He loved me but he loved his family's reputation more."

He had been walking late one night, on his way home from a ball for King Louis XII's birthday celebration when he saw a man on the street, moaning as if he were injured.

"I went to him and asked him what was wrong," said Francois, his voice low. "When I got close enough, he reached over and forced me to drink his blood. The next thing I remember is waking up and feeling this overwhelming hunger."

He couldn't help himself. He tore into a young boy who had the misfortune of passing by. When Francois first told me this story, I could tell he still felt guilty even after all that time.

The next two centuries were spent traveling the world, doing as he pleased and killing as he pleased.

"Every vampire goes through that hedonistic phase," he had said, smiling mischievously like a 40 year old reminiscing about their teenage years.

"How did you get over it?" I asked, completely enthralled in his story.

He shrugged. "I didn't necessarily get over it. I just stopped living so intensely. I stopped killing for pleasure because it was no longer pleasurable to me."

The first time I had seen Francois was at the city library, where I had been doing research on the town's history. No matter how much I learned from Stefan and Damon, I felt it was time to start learning things on my own.

I had been reading an article about James Lockwood, who had apparently "accidently" set a neighbor's porch on fire.

"Always pleasant people those Lockwoods," I murmured to myself.

There was suddenly someone next to me and all I saw were very worn brown boots over black pants.

I looked up to see a boy about my age, although I knew even then using the word "boy" was incorrect. There was something in his face that made him seem infinitely older than I felt, which I guess should've been a dead giveaway.

"Hi," he said to me, smiling politely.

"Hi," I replied unsurely, taking in his bright green eyes and wavy brown hair.

"I'm Francois," he continued, as if it was perfectly normal to approach strangers and start casually talking.

"Hi Francois," I replied, laughing nervously. "Tourists don't usually visit the city library. Are you lost?"

He smiled and I couldn't help but noticed how the skin around his eyes crinkled when he smiled and the way it lit up his face.

"How do you know I'm not from around here?" he asked.

I laughed. "Because this is a town with a population of approximately 12 people. It's pretty obvious when someone isn't from around here."

He nodded. "Is it."

"Yeah," I replied, reaching for another stack of books.

He leaned closer to me, trying to see what it was I was reading and his shoulder touched mine. I felt it. That cold, death like feeling I felt whenever I touched Stefan or Damon or any other vampire. His touch made me flinch and I turned to look at him quickly, wondering if he knew what I was. He didn't say anything as I looked into his eyes, searching for any hint that he knew. He just smiled but not in a threatening way, more like a cheerful "I want to play" kind of smile. The kind of smile someone would give if you'd said something cute.

"What do you want?" I asked, stepping back.

"I don't want anything," he assured me. "I promise."

I tried hard not to believe him but there was something very sincere about him and I couldn't help but believe him.

"Why are you in Mystic Falls?" I asked. "People like you don't come here without a reason."

"I heard Mystic Falls was the destination spot for…people like me these days," he replied. "I thought I'd see it for myself."

"It's not," I said, gathering the books and trying to get out of there as quickly as possible. "You should leave."

"I'm not here to hurt anyone," he said, gently reaching for my wrist. "I swear it. Look, I pinky promise it."

He stuck it out his pinky and I looked at him like he was crazy.

"What," he said, his smile fading. "Do people not do that anymore? What do they do now?"

I laughed in spite of myself and wished I didn't find him so endearing.

"No," I replied, looking down at his pinky which was still in mid air. "Five year olds still do that yes."

He shrugged. "Well who says five year olds don't have it right. So?"

I sighed and laced my pinky with his and he nodded contently.

"Good," he replied. "So are we friends?"

"Why do you want to be friends with me?" I asked, genuinely curious. "I sincerely hope its not because you know what I am and are planning on asking me for help sometime soon."

He shook his head.

"No. I know plenty of other witches. I don't need your help."

I should have been offended but I knew he was only trying to assure me he wasn't using me.

"Okay," I said, and that was the beginning of the end of my common sense.