A/N: My first for the holiday exchange. This was story was begging to be written. After reading, 123nenagirl's "Merry Christmas, my love", I just had to write her a story. Happy Belated XMAS. Also dedicated to my friend Daisy, because she's awesome.
Disclaimer: This is AU/AH. Set in the dystopian future because I'm cool like that.
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New Traditions
A Holiday Story by Sar (BadBoysAreBest aka JunkyAtBest)
December 24, 2092
I can't stand to see the wreaths on the streetlights. The gaudy lights in the store windows. The men looking hopeless at the local goldsmith's as they try to pick out the perfect gift for their sweethearts. It's all too much for me. I can't deal with the looks of pity that I receive or worse the people that ask me how I'm doing with a big smile. How do you think I'm doing? The holiday season is a reminder of a life that I will never be fortunate enough to enjoy. I am the sole heir to the Salvatore fortune and I hate my life.
This time of year used to be an even bigger spectacle in Mystic Falls for both my family and its citizens. People of all class levels had looked forward every year to receiving their invitations to our Twelfth Night Carnival on our estate's grounds. There hasn't been a Twelfth Night Carnival at the Salvatore Manor in 12 years. It's been 12 years since my mother died. 8 years since my father died. And 1 year since Stefan died.
I miss my brother. I even miss my father. Most of all, I miss my mother. My mother's birthday is in three days. Every year my father had made a big deal out of the holiday season because he was so in love with her. It was sickening, really. He loved her much more than us. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the only reason why he had agreed to have children was to please her. When she died tragically of cancer, my father had soon become a shell of a man and it was suddenly my responsibility to care for my younger brother.
When my father died, it didn't destroy me because we had never been close and I still had Stefan. With Stefan gone though... It's too much. The final straw. I'm worth 77.4 million dollars and yet every day, I wake up and wonder if this is the day that I'll have the balls to end my own pathetic life.
For awhile I had tested the theory about money buying happiness. I used to trash the manor with huge parties, sleep with no less than three women at a time and drink myself into oblivion. That got old fast. Even the easiest pussy couldn't sate my pain. I had always thought that paying for sex was reserved for losers and the women that kept throwing themselves at me didn't make me feel any befter. They were always expecting stuff from me. Just because I'm rich, that doesn't mean that I'm fucking Santa Clause. Why should I be expected to grant everyone's material wishes?
Instead of picking up girls, now I just sit around all day, sign a few papers regarding the state of my fortune. Some days I read. I like the fireplace that's in my parlor room. Mostly, I do nothing. I'm alive, but hardly. This is why I'm ready to end my life. I have no one to live for. No one to care for.
A soft knock interrupts my self-loathing. I turn to see Daisy, my secretary. She's one of the only people that I trust. Mostly because I've known her most of my life. I should be nicer to her, I think.
"Uh, Master Salvatore..." She starts timidly, playing with her fingers.
"What is it, Daisy?" I ask in my gruff voice. Fuck, why can't I be nicer to her?
"Well, Master Salvatore..." She struggles over her own words. "It is Christmas Eve and I was wondeeing, well, I was wondering..."
"Spit it out, Daisy." See, I'm never nice.
"Will you be needing me anymore today?" She asks staring down at her shoes.
Of course she wants to leave. Everyone always wants to leave me.
"No, you can't leave." I say and then my heart breaks a little seeing her face, but I don't falter. "We have work to do."
"What work, Master?" She asks in a soft voice. She finally looks me in the eyes.
"I..." Fuck, now I have to think of a reason for her to stay. "The bonuses." I suggest suddenly.
Daisy raises a brow since this is the first mention of any 'bonuses'.
"You can't leave..." I almost pathetically say 'you can't leave me'. "You can't leave because I need help figuring out everyone's Christmas bonus. You know how much I hate numbers."
Daisy's face lights up at my words. "Oh, that's so kind of you Master Salvatore. No one has been given a bonus, since well, you know."
"Since my mother died. I know." I say with a sour expression. "What are you standing around for? Get to work." I order and she rushes out to get my ledger and checkbook from my study.
I make her count many, many numbers for the rest of the evening. It's a tedious job, but it keeps her around, at least until the clock strikes eight, the time that she's usually off.
As Daisy rushes to get dressed for the frigid winter and leave me, I become overwhelm with feeling and I wonder if she'll miss me if I off myself. But how could she miss me? I'm the grumpy employer that made her work on Christmas Eve. A real life Scrooge. God dammit.
"Daisy." I call out right before she leaves me.
"Yes, Master Salvatore?" She asks, standing at the door. There's an awful hesistant expression, no doubt wondering if I'm going to ask her to work overtime for me. No, even I'm not that cruel.
I walk up to her and awkwardly wrap my arms around her in a hug. Just in case she really is the last person I see. I want to say that I touched someone before I died. That someone felt me. It's been so long since I've hugged anyone.
"I hope you and your daughter have a very Merry Christmas, Daisy." I say, planting a small kiss on her forehead.
Daisy blushes like mad. I have always suspected that she found me attractive. Most women do. She's not that bad looking, but I could never bang her though, it be like banging the aunt that I never had.
"You too, Master Salvatore." She whispers, before leaving me to my lonesome.
My depression is in full swing once again now that she's gone. Not that it ever left, but it's not so bad when someone is around to dote on me.. I grumble aloud walking to my parlor room. I should have never let Daisy go home. No, but I had to let Daisy go. She has a daughter to take care of her. Her daughter is a sweet kid. I know because I pay for her fancy private school education. It's the least that I can do for the person that puts up with my antics.
With a deep frown, I make myself a stiff glass of scotch and sit down in my large leather chair in front of the fire. Man, it's times like these that I wish I had a dog. They're good companions, you know? We used to have Katherine, a nasty little golden retriever. She belonged to Stefan. I gave her away though. She reminded me too much of him. I feel like shit again. Thinking of Stefan isn't a good idea. He was better than me, in a lot of ways. I wish I had died in his place. He was the good brother. I stand up to make myself another drink. Oh sweet alcohol, I ask of you to make me forget everything. At least for a little while.
"Damon. Wake up." I hear a woman call for me softly.
"No... Five more minutes please." I whine.
"Damon, you need to wake up."
"Mother..." I whine and then I wake up a little freaked out. My mother is dead. Wait. My mother is dead. Oh my God, that's it, I'm losing my mind. I shut my eyes tightly, unwilling to open them.
"Damon. I know you're awake." Fake Mother says in her all-knowing tone.
Holy shit! "You're not real." I say, keeping my eyes closd. This is not happening. I got too drunk and this is not happening. I'm going to open my eyes and she's not going to be there.
One... Two... Three... I open my eyes and she's not there!
"Damon." Fake Mother's voice calls me and that's when I see her reflection in the mirror. I scream. I scream like a little girl. Can you blame me? Wouldn't you freak out if you could see your dead mother? Anyone would.
"Stop screaming, young man." She scolds me.
"Mother." I whisper looking around the room. She's not here. Nope. But she's still in the reflection of the mirror. I walk up to the mirror and press my right palm against it. There she is; striking black hair, pale skin and blue eyes - we look so alike. She looks more beautiful than the portrait of her that preserves her memory in the grand ballroom.
"You're not here." I say firmly, looking away from her. This is a bit too painful.
"No. I'm not." She admits. "The rules of being a ghost are a little fuzzy."
"Aren't you supposed to have wings?" I ask warily.
"I just said that I'm a ghost."
"Oh." I frown in response. "You should be an angel though."
"Yeah, but I can't be because of you. You're my unfinished business, Damon."
"I am?" I ask, looking guilty.
"I'm never going to earn my wings if you keep living like this."
"I'm sorry, mother."
"That's not what I want to hear." She says furiously. Fuck. I don't think anyone had ever made her this mad when she was alive. I suck.
"Stop cursing. I taught you better than that."
"You can read my mind?" I say looking even more guilty. Shit.
"If I want to." She shrugs. "Damon. I want you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. I want you stop feeling sorry for me. And Stefan. And your father."
"You can't expect me to just forget you." I say getting a little pissed off. How could she ask me to do such a thing?
"I'm not asking you to forget about me." She says softly. "But this is no way to live. Look around you Damon, you have so much more than others. And you're not thankful for any of t."
"Yeah, but no one to share it with it." I say, taking a seat back on my chair as if having a conversation with my dead mother's ghost is perfectly natural.
"Will you stop acting selfish for once?"
"Selfish?" I repeat annoyed. "I just gave thousands of dollars away today."
"The Christmas bonuses were a nice start. How did that make you feel, baby?"
"Okay, I guess." I admit with a shrug. "Look mother, it's not like I don't give to any charities."
"That'a not enough, Damon." She chides. "I want you to give back, personally. You need a wake up call. A desperate wake up call. You need to understand that your life could be worse. Much worse."
I stare at her reflection in the mirror, trying to understand a word she's saying.
"I'm not fucking Santa Clause." I state firmly. "Why should this be my responsibility?"
"It's called personal responsibility." She says. "I taught you better than this."
"Not making me feel less guilty, mother.." I drawl.
"At least you stopped your whoring." She says in relief, making me blush. My sex life is not up for discussion.
I take a deep breath. "So let me get this straight, you want me to go out...in that..." I frown looking at the winter storm. "And help someone less fortunate? You really think that'll make me feel better."
"I really do and you're going to listen to me because I'm your mother." She orders.
I give her an incredulous look because it's seriously below thirty out. I grumble while I dress in more appropriate clothes. This is crazy. I'm actually taking advice from a figure of my imagination. I've hit rock bottom and I should just sleep this off.
"And Damon?" My mother says before I leave the room.
"Yes, mother?"
"Be nicer to Daisy." She says raising a single, well-plucked brow. She looks good for a ghost. Guess there are good salons on the other side.
"Yes, mother." I reply obediently. In case you haven't noticed, I'm quite the mama's boy. Meh. What can I say?
Shit. It's Christmas Eve. There's no one around to drive me into town. Daisy was the last member of my staff before she finally went home.
I haven't driven myself anywhere since I was 21. That was three years ago. I walk into the garage, looking around at the priceless, vintage cars. My father was really into cars. I was hardly surprised when he had bought Stefan a Lambourgini before he was even legally allowed to drive it. There's so many of those in here. It's like a museum.
I settle for grabbing the keys to my own car; my precious blue Chevy Camaro. I step into the driver's seat and instantly remember how much I love this car. It smells wonderful - all manly and shit. I turn it on and let the engine run for awhile. Gotta make sure my precious is alright before I take her out in that awful weather.
When I finally make it down the driveway, I'm thankful that it stopped snowing. It would have been hell to put on snow chain on by myself. I'm not even sure I know how to do tha properly.
Okay. Here we go. Helping the hopeless.
I drive around town wondering what I should do next. Now looking back, I should have probably gotten better directions from my mother. If I were poor, where would I be? The homeless shelter? Hmm.
I take a drive down to the poor side of town and I complain the whole way. They really need to redo some of these streets. I shiver at the filth. What if I get carjacked? I mean, sure, I'm a spry fellow - I can last in a fight, but what if they have a gun. I wouldn't have much of a chance agaisnt a real thug. As I become more paranoid, I start paying less attention to my surroundings and more to my thoughts.
Shit.
Did I just hit someone.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Just drive away, Damon.
No, I can't drive away.
Shit.
I turn off my car and step out, running to the front of my car.
Please don't be dead! I scream in my head. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in prison for second-degree manslaughter.
Oh god, it's a dog. I killed a dog.
I bend down to check out the poor pup. Man, he smells rancid.
All of the sudden, someone is smacking me with an umbrella. Ouch! Who would dare smack me with an umbrella?
"I hate you!" The woman screams. "You killed that poor defenseless dog! How dare you?" She continues to smack me with her umbrella.
"Stop that right now." I say grabbing the umbrella and finally get a look at her. She's really more of a girl than a woman. She looks about Stefan's age when he died. Seventeen?
Her eyes go wide taking in my appearance.
"You're... You're Damon Salvatore." She blurts out in shock.
At times I forget how famous I am. Of course I'm famous. I live in that huge gothic manor that you can't miss. Oh yeah, and I'm a single good-looking man that's worth millions.
"Sweetie." She coos at the terrier. "My poor Sweetie." She cries falling on her knees on the snowy ground to give comfort to her pet. My own selfish mind for a second wishes I was that dog and that someone out there cared that much for me. How nice that would be.
I'm about to say something when the filthy dog makes a whimper. My God, it's a Christmas miracle! The dog isn't dead. All praise halluijah and everything sugar and nice, I think as the dog gets up and walks away. The dog is walking away like this never happened.
I look at the girl, expectantly, waiting for her to follow after the dog. "Aren't you gonna grab your dog?" I ask puzzled.
"He's not my dog." She answers nonchalantly.
"So you just beat me silly over a dog that doesn't belong to you?"
"Just because he doesn't belong to me doesn't mean that I can't care for him. He's a living being." She says stubbornly. "What were you thinking anyway? You weren't even looking where you were going. I saw it happen. That could have been me."
"But it wasn't." I say cheekily and she rolls her eyes in reply.
The girl in question just walks away, leaving me baffled. "Hey, where are you going?" I ask, chasing after her. Yes, leaving my car in the middle of the road.
"Why are you following me?" She asks, cautiously.
"You look like you could use some help and I can help you." I answer lamely.
"Look Mr. Salvatore, thanks, but no thanks. I'm not that kinda girl." She says roughly.
"Um, no." I say offended. "Don't make it out to sound as if I'm some pervy old man. Come on, it's not safe out here." I say looking around in the dark. "At least let me give you a ride home. Your parents must be worried sick for you."
"My parents are dead." She replies matter-of-factly.
"Mine too." I retort softly. "But you knew that, didn't you?"
She looks down at the ground in shame. Aha! I caught her now little girl. I'm not like those other guys that she must meet on the street.
"So where's home?" I ask curiously.
She lets out a lifeless laugh. "Anywhere. Everywhere. Nowhere." She puts her hands up to her mouth trying to warm them. She really should be wearing gloves in this frightful weather. She could get frostbite.
"Come on." I say, pestering her a little more.
"I'm homeless, you dumbass." She blurts out, looking down at her ragged appearance.
My eyes go wide in understanding. I am dumb, aren't I? "Then come home with me." I offer before I even think through my words. I'm impulsive that way.
"I'm not some stray. I'm a human being and I want you to leave me alone." She orders, stomping her foot a little.
"I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"I made a promise that I would help someone out today." I confess. "And you look like you could use some help."
"I don't need your charity."
"Then don't think of it as charity."
The girl continues to argue with me and I've had enough of this. It's fucking cold out and I want to go home already.
"Put me down! Right now, Damon!" She whines as I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. "Put me down or I'll scream! I swear, I'll scream!" She starts hitting my back, but I barely feel it because she's so scrawny.
"Go ahead." I chuckle. "We're in the middle of nowhere and it's Christmas Eve."
"This is kidnapping!" She complains as I stuff her in the passenger seat of my car and fix her seatbelt.
"That's a little melodramatic, don't you think?" I say, turning on the child-lock before I start driving.
"I promise not to do anything funny." I say.
Ugh, in these close quarters, I notice how bad she smells. Smells worse than that dog. "I have no reason to take advantage of you."
The girl stares at me cautiously.
As we drive out of town on the way to my estate, she looks out the window and automatically knows where we are going. Unless she thinks I'm a serial killer that's going to bury her at the beach, it's blatantly obvious that we're going to my place.
"I've never been here before." She says in a monotone voice.
"Of course not." I chuckle. I rarely allow anyone past my esate's fence.
"There's talk going around in town saying that you're a vampire."
I chuckle again, yes, that particular rumor always makes me smile.
"They say that no one ever sees you during the day." She continues.
"I'm not a vampire." I answer. "See?" I say grabbing her hand and making her feel my pulse on my neck. She gasps in response.
"I didn't say I thought you were a vampire." She says. "But why doesn't anyone see you during the day? You're not allergic to the sun, are you?"
I chuckle again. "Let's start with the basics? I'm Damon Salvatore. I'm 24 years old and I'm a Scorpio."
There's a long pause. "And you are?" I ask turning to her.
"Elena." She replies taking a deep breath. What a beautiful name. It rolls off the tongue, doesn't it? "Elena Gilbert. 16. Pisces."
"Pisces, huh? That's cool. My mother was a Pisces. She was full of spirit like you that way."
Elena starts laughing a little hysterically. She's a bit mad, isn't she? Must be from living on the streets; that could make anyone go mad.
"What's up?" I ask.
"I just... No one would ever believe me if I said Damon Salvatore talked to me about astrology."
"No offense, but I don't think anyone would believe you if you told them that you met me."
"I guess you're right." She pouts.
"I mean, only because I don't talk to many people. Let alone the homeless." I shrug with a small smile. Just telling it like it is. There's no reason to lie. I hate liars more than anything.
"And why don't you talk to many people?" Elena asks curiously.
"Hey, you're not like a journalist, are you?" I ask suddenly getting paranoid. "I'm not going to wake up tomorrow and see a story like 'The Secret Life of Damon Salvatore' in the paper tomorrow, am I?"
"Haha." She replies sarcastically. "I wish. I always wanted to be a journalist."
"Then why aren't you?"
"I would probably have to graduate high school first." She admits. "And I sorta dropped out after... Everything."
"You can always go back?" I say in a hopeful tone which causes her to scoff.
"So how did you become homeless, if you don't mind me asking, I mean?"
"How come you don't leave the house anymore, if you don't mind me asking, I mean?" She retorts in her smartass way.
"Fine. Suit yourself." I grumble. If she wants to keep her secrets then that's fine, I can respect that.
A few minutes later, I pull up to my garage and park the car. The usual sense of relief comes over me since I've reached home. My safe place.
"Now what?" She asks.
"Now you get out of the car." I answer, humming as I wait for her to follow me.
"Wow. This is your living room?" She says in awe, looking around.
"Living room, Sotheby's auction." I answer. "It's a little kitschy for my taste. Follow me."
I take her upstairs to one of the many guest rooms. "Take a shower. You stink." I say and bit my lip at my words. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."
"Yes, you did." She shakes her head.
"But I could have said it a little nicer." I wince.
"I find your honesty... refreshing." She admits with a small smirk.
"Good. That's good." I reply awkwardly. She's not like most girls.
"I'll find you some clothes and leave them here." I explain, motioning to thr bed. "The bathroom is right through that door."
I don't see Elena for nearly one hour. I guess if our places were switched, I probably would have cherished my first real shower in so long that much too. But dammit, I'm starting to get lonely. I walk over to my alcohol cart in the parlor and begin to my pour myself a drink.
My mother once again scares me in the mirror.
"Oh, God, you're still here." I say shocked.
"I'm a ghost. I haunt." She retorts dryly, which makes me miss her even more. I definitely got my demeanor from her. We're alike in many ways.
"Damon... who are you talking to?" Elena asks walking in.
I turn to the large mirror to see my mother giving me a thumbs up. Okay, that's too freaky. Leaving, now.
I set down the drink that I didn't get to finish and escort us out of the parlor and wander around the house with her.
"You look..." I struggle to say something because she's beautiful. I mean, really beautiful. I've been around a lot of woman, but Elena is something else. Who knew that under all that dirt and grime she'd be such a looker? "Much better." I settle with a strangled cough.
"Have a seat." I say as we walk into the kitchen. The girl must be hungry. It only makes common sense that she would be.
Elena takes a seat on the bar stool at the island, there's an amused expression on her face.
"What?" I ask with a sigh. Her looks are killing me.
"Do you even know what you're doing?"
"I'm Italian." I deadpan as if that's supposed to explain everything.
"I just didn't think someone like you would know how to cook." She shrugs in explanation.
"I know how to make a few mean pastas." I shrug in return. "Okay, fine, two. But something tells me that you're not very picky."
"Nope." She answers with a shy smile.
"So I hope 'she' doesn't mind that I'm wearing her clothes." Elena says looking down at the designer black cashmere sweater and dress pants that she's wearing. "These are so nice."
"Who Daisy?" I ask raising a brow. "Nah, she's just my secretary. And also like the most understanding person in the world."
"That's nice." Elena says awkwardly.
Not many words are spoken after I serve her my delectable shrimp scampi. The poor girl. She is starving.
"You're not going to eat?" She asks after a few minutes of stuffing her face.
"I already ate." I explain, taking a seat next to her.
Elena looks at me from under her eyelashes. "Thank you." She says softly.
Damn, those are some eyelashes. I can't stand how beautiful she is. With the right clothes and a little make up... woah... woah... what am I thinking? This isn't Pretty Woman. This is real life. I blush a little and look away embarrassed. Damon Salvatore does not blush.
"No problem." I mumble.
When Elena is done, she stands up looking out of place, looking everywhere but at me. "I guess I should get going now."
"You're not going anywhere." I say firmly.
"What do you mean?"
"It's not looking any better out there." I say turning toward the large window in the kitchen. "I think the storm's going to get worse. That's no place for a tiny girl like yourself."
"I've been through worse." She retorts stubbornly.
"I'm sure you have." I say looking her up and down. "But I have to be the responsible adult and say it's not safe for you to go out." I say walking up to her, not leaving much room between us. She smells wonderful, all in lavendar, the way a girl like her should smell.
She pouts. Her pink little lip juts out, teasing me merciless. "Are you going to let me leave in the morning?"
Everyone always leaves me. See? She'd rather go out and live in the gutters than spend a single second longer with me. "Is it really so bad here?" I ask before I can stop myself. My pride going straight out of the window. "Or are you afraid of me? What is it, Elena?"
I think for a moment that she catches my vulnerability because I think I've rendered her speechless. "I don't belong here." She finally replies in a little whisper. Her words break my heart a little.
"Who says?" I reply with furrowed brows. I make the rules around her. I'm the master of thise house.
"Look at you and... well, look at me." Elena crosses her arms looking insecure.
"Your family's dead. My family's dead." I murmur. "I think we share an understanding."
"A lot of people are orphans, Damon." She shakes her head. "Not just us."
"Yeah... but... you're..."
"I'm what, Damon?" She asks, squinting her eyes.
"I like you." I admit in a rushed voice. Wow. What is wrong with me? When did I become such a loser? How was I ever a womanizer?
Of course, she laughs. I'd laugh at me too. I sound ridiculous.
"You like me?" She laughs some more, incredulously.
"You know what?" I ask frustrated. "Why is it such a surprise that I find you easy to talk to?"
"That's not a surprise." She smirks. "I'm surprised that I would like someone like you back."
"Now I'm hurt." I chuckle before her words set in. Wait. She likes me? Score. Does that mean she won't want to leave in the morning? I hope so.
"Come on." I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder. I like the way she feels. I like the idea of taking care of someone else, I realize. I like the feeling of helping someone out. Go figure. My mother is right. This is helping me. I haven't even thought about suicide since I met Elena.
At first I was going to take her into the parlor to watch a movie before remembering my mother's ghost. That could get weird. So I decide to take her to my bedroom and silently pray that this isn't going to make things regress between us. I swear, I'm not trying to put the moves on her. It's just the only room in this huge house with a decent size television. And the only room that isn't freezing. What? It's a big house, I reason with myself, surely she'll understand.
When we walk into my bedroom, she stays silent and doesn't make a remark about my oversized bed as most women do.
"Have a seat." I say letting her go. "I'll grab the remote."
When I walk over to her, I notice that she's shivering a bit. "I'm sorry that it's a bit drafty. It's an old place. 17th century and what not. It'll warm up in a bit." I explain going to my fireplace to fix it up.
"It's okay. This is nice. Thank you." Elena replies.
"You can stop thanking me. It'll only feed my ego more and you wouldn't want that." I smirk, taking off my shoes and getting in on the other side of my bed.
Elena blushes like crazy.
"Here. You pick." I say handing her the remote after I turn on my surround system.
"No, you pick. I wouldn't know what to pick. I haven't watched TV in..."
"I don't watch TV either." I drawl. "I like movies better."
"Then pick a movie." She smile sweetly in return.
"What are you in the mood for?" I ask. "Comedy. Horror. Drama..." I ramble off, flipping through my extensive library. Technology is a wonderful thing.
"How about that one?" She asks as the cover of 'Gone With The Wind' appears on the screen.
"Um, yeah, okay." I answer, a little surprised by her choice. "You know this is a long movie, right?"
"I thought you wanted me to stay." She replies in a soft voice.
"Of course I want you to stay." I say, feeling that light, giddy feeling fill me.
Around the thirty minute mark, she nods off and I'm not offended by it. Instead of watching the movie, I end up watching her. I can't help but move the stray strands of hair away from her face.
'I'm not kind, I'm just tempting you.' Rhett says in the background and I smirk at his words. Mr. Rhett Butler was one hell of a man. I should know, I read the book, but I'd never admit it to anyone. My mother got me into this stuff. At the thought of my mother, I wonder if she's still stuck in that mirror downstairs. Hmm.
I rush downstairs hoping that she's still there.
She is.
Now that I see her there, I'm not sure if I should feel relieved about that or not.
"Mother." I greet her, walking up to the mirror.
"Damon." She answers with a kind smile. "Are you feeling better, son?"
"I am." I nod. "Are you?"
"I've been feeling different ever since you brought that girl home."
"What if I'm not ready to let you go again?"
"You have to let me go, Damon." She replies.
"I'll always be with you, but you've got to let me go. It's time for the both of us to move on."
I pout a little at her words. "Fine. I'll try."
"Damon, I love you."
"I love you too. Always." I say, staring at her eyes. I have a feeling that I'm never going to see those again.
As I walk upstairs, I contemplate my life and realize that I can do better. I can make my life better and even Elena's... if she'll let me.
Back in my bedroom, the credits of the movie are still rolling, but Elena isn't in my bed anymore.
"Elena?" I call out in a panic.
"I was just... looking for a hair brush." She says smiling with a hint of a blush on her cheeks.
"Sure." I say going over to my bathroom. I grab a brush and then proceed to turn her toward the mirror. I begin to brush her hair for her, which makes her blush even more. She looks lovely when she blushes.
"You don't have to do that." She says.
"I want to." I reply, taking a deep breath. As I comb away all of the little tangles, it's harder for me to take my eyes away from her. She's so beautiful.
"I want you to stay." I admit as I toss aside the brush and run my fingers through her straight hair.
"I thought I didn't have a choice." She retorts.
"I want you to stay because that's what you want."
She gasps a little seeing the seriousness in my eyes. "I'll stay."
"Good." I see my own smile in the mirror and then I see her smile.
"Good." She repeats.
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December 24, 2093
"Oh Miss Elena! It's beautiful." Daisy coos as she opens another gift that Elena picked out for her.
"You deserve it." Elena replies. "Doesn't she, Damon?"
"Yes, yes, of course." I drawl. "Now let me walk you out..."
It's around Noon on Christmas Eve and all I want to do is spend the day with my Elena. It's been marvelous since she moved in last year. I'm no longer lonely and I enjoy spoiling her senseless. She's got such a fire in heart and it feels wonderful to be around. She brings me out of my Howard Hughes like shell.
"Are you going to finally tell her?" Daisy whispers to me as I walk her to the door. "Are you going to tell her that you love her? Oh, it's so perfect - the two of you!"
"Who says I love her?" I ask with a rough chuckle. Damn that woman for reading me like a book!
"Why, anyone can see it." Daisy says in a dreamy voice. She's a sniffling romantic that way... Actually believes in fairytales. "We all know that you love her."
Have I really been that obvious? Does Elena know how much I love her?
"Yes... But does she love me? I mean, has she said anything?" I ask, shaking Daisy's shoulders.
"I know she must feel the same way. I can just see it in the way that she looks at you."
"So she hasn't said anything." I reply sadly.
"Miss Elena and you are alike that way. Never been the types to be up front about how you're really feeling." She replies in her chiding tone.
"Have a Merry Christmas, Daisy." I say giving her a quick hug, letting her go early for the day.
Back inside of the house, I find Elena in the parlor working hard on her homework. She's been studying at home to earn her GED. I had offered to get her back into school, but she didn't want to go back saying she wasn't ready for such a dramatic adjustment.
I take a seat on the couch and pull her up on my lap.
"Damon..." She giggles as I hold her to me. We can be quite affectionate at times, quite sweet with each other. I feel so comfortable with her. She's like my other half, made just for me.
"It's Christmas Eve. We should be enjoying the holiday together." I say pressing my nose to her hair as I've grown used to. "You can do the rest of your homework tomorrow."
"Fine." She sighs resting against my chest and I wrap my arms more firmly around her. I still think she feels perfect. She's got a bit more meat on her bones since I first met her, but that's a good thing. I need her to be healthy and strong.
"What should we do today?" She asks, pulling away from me a little to meet my eyes.
"I don't know." I answer honestly. "Is there something in particular that you wanted to do?"
"No." She replies and falls back in place in my arms.
"Mmm. Then if it's okay with you, why don't we just to do what we did last year?" I offer with a grin.
"What? You'll watch me eat pasta and we'll watch a movie in your bedroom."
"Sure." I agree. "Why not?"
"Fine. Let's go." Elena makes a move to get out of my embrace, but I don't let her. I don't want to let her go, so instead - I make a great show of carrying her bridal-style upstairs in my arms.
"Damon. I can walk." She teases.
"Shut up." I reply simply.
In my bedroom, I fold over the covers and get us situated. We flip through the movies and settle on watching, 'It's A Wonderful Life' deciding to keep the mood a little festive.
After awhile I smile feeling Elena's hand cover my own. "Get over here." I say, crossing the distance between us and lay her head on my chest. "That's better."
"Mmm Hmm." She mumbles into my button-down shirt. Her right hand slides down to my waist giving me a slight chill. It's so easy for me to be affected by her soft touch.
Before the movie ends, Elena dozes off and it's not that surprising. The girl is awful like that. However, I am surprised when I hear her whisper my name. Holy shit! She's dreaming about me I think as I gently move to grab the remote. I put the television on mute and wait for her to say something more.
Elena doesn't say anything else for awhile, but then I hear it! She faintly says it. She says 'I love you' and I swear, my heart feels like it's about to burst. I feel like I'm ten feet tall. This is the greatest day in the world.
So what do I do? Why, I kiss her of course. I take her face in my hands and plant the lightest kiss on her lips. Her lips are more perfect than I ever imagined. Yet the girl has the audacity to moan against me, but she doesn't wake up. That's okay, I'll let her have her rest, but when she wakes up - she won't know what hit her because I'll be coming after her. The girl will be mine.
I decide that it's time to hatch a plan so she'll see how much I love her and make sure that she'll never want to leave me. I do come up with the perfect plan. A real winner. However, I had no idea that everything would fall apart with a ring at the door.
It all happens so fast. Here I am preparing to announce my undying love to the girl when a the doorbell rings. Who could that be? I foolishly think that it could be Christmas carolers or maybe it's Daisy and she forgot something.
I open the door and find a man that I've never seen before.
"Hello. You must be Mr. Salvatore." He says cordially.
I nod slowly.
"I'm John Gilbert." He says, rocking my world.
This is not happening. I want to blurt out something like 'aren't you supposed to be dead?'. He goes on, answering my question saying that he's Elena's father, but that he only just found out because the woman that he got pregnant revealed the news in her will. What a mess.
What can I say? What do I say? A part of me wants to offer him a ludicrous sum of money and ask him to forget that he ever had a daughter (because I could do that, I'm in the position to do so). But I know that wouldn't be right. I can't do that. If I had any living relatives, I know exactly how elated I would feel to find out. I can't take this moment away from Elena, it wouldn't be right.
And just like that Elena is taken away from me. She's only seventeen, so of course I have no legal rights to her. We never actually belonged to one another. We were just two misfits that were brought together by a ghost and mutually tragic circumstances. Pffft. That's my life for you... Nothing gold ever stays.
"Where do you live, John?" I have to ask. Please don't say across the globe!
"Right in town, actually."
My face lights up for a moment in joy before remembering that I'm Damon Salvatore, meaning on a usual day, reporters do write about me. This could get complicated: 'Millionaire Playboy Falls For Penniless Teenager' doesn't have a good ring to it - does it?
Of course Elena is surprised when she finds out about John, but she doesn't really throw a fit about leaving me. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm delusional. Maybe she doesn't love me and I imagined the whole thing because that's what I want to hear. Man, I'm sick.
"I hope you'll visit me." She says as we hug. Our goodbye hug. No, please don't leave me, I scream in my head.
"You know I don't go out much." I say mumbling in her hair.
"Even for me?" She asks, drawing back and that's when I notice that her eyes are tearing. Could it be true? Does she care for me?
"Maybe." I return with a weak smile, even though I know we could never work.
"Umm, thank you, you know... for saving me." She says awkwardly, almost as awkward as the night that we first met.
'We saved each other,' I want to say to her, but I don't. I don't because I can't let her see how much pain she's causing me.
"Elena. We must be going now." John interrupts. Man, did I mention how much I hate that guy? "I'm sure we've taken enough of Mr. Salvatore's time."
And just like that, I'm alone again.
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December 31, 2099
Seven years have passed since I met Elena. Time is easy to keep track of because there's an eight year age difference between us (something that used to be very important to me). She'll be 23 soon and I turned 31, not too long ago. I'm still good-looking, but she's... I struggle to find the right words to describe her. Supermodels don't even hold a candle to her, at least in my eyes. To me, she's the most beautiful woman in the world. Her curves have filled out. Her face has matured. She's just supple in the right places. Yes, it's true, I'm still in love with her. Time has made no difference.
It took me awhile to get used to the idea of spending time with Elena outside of the estate, it had been difficult for me, at least until she turned 18. When she turned 18, a whole new set of problems came our way. Other guys started asking her out, meaning she would spend less time with me making me absolutely furious. I would throw terrible tantrums and of course, Daisy always knew what was wrong.
None of the guys ever lasted though. There was one guy - Matt Donovan - I thought he'd ask her to marry her but she broke it off before it got too serious. That was over a year ago.
I know you're probably wondering why I never made my move, but the truth is, it's complicated. Since that "epic" moment that I heard her say she loves me in her sleep (which I still partly believe that I imagined), she hasn't said anything remotely romantic to me. I'm so used to women just falling over their feet for me, but she just doesn't.
After all this time, I'd say that Elena is the only family I have and I don't want to lose her. I can't lose Elena. I'd be nothing without her. Why, she's the only person that helped me get over my paranoia to leave the estate. See, I need her.
"What are you going to do about this new law?" She asks while we eat brunch together in the kitchen.
"What law?" I ask as she takes me away from my looping daydreams.
"The marriage law." She states matter-of-factly.
"Huh?" I ask confused. I don't pay much attention to the news. The news doesn't usually affect people like me, plus it makes me more paranoid.
"The marriage law." Elena repeats as if that's going to help before playfully rolling her eyes. "To deal with the limited resources in the United States, citizens will no longer be able to get married past the year of 2101, nor will they be able to lawfully claim heirs until further notice. This limitation should equalize the population boom for the next century."
I shrug because this is news to me. "I don't know, Elena. What are you going to do about the new law?" I reply cheekily.
She shrugs. "I just thought you'd care more about this." She answers, fidgeting in her seat.
"Why's that?" I ask, raising a brow. Here I thought that everyone in town just figured that I'm 'not the marrying kind' (not exactly true, but I haven't proven otherwise either).
"Don't act like you don't care Damon. You love this place." She says looking around. "You're saying that you really don't care that when you die that your family's legacy will just be over. Then what? This will just turn into some government building?"
"Okay, fine, I care." I say with a great strangled exhale. "But who am I going to marry?"
'Offer yourself, offer yourself, offer yourself'... I plead in my head.
"What about Andie?" She asks, making my jaw almost drop. I kid you not.
"Andie?" I scoff.
"What? She's kinda nice... and you sure do spend a lot of time with her." She says, do I detect a little jealousy?
"Andie's just a distraction." I say dryly.
"Damon! That's not very nice!" She scolds me.
"What?" I say with a crooked grin. "It's the truth."
"Okay... Fine. Not Andie then. What about your other girlfriend, the stuck up British one?"
"Who... Rose?" I laugh a little more at the idea of marrying her. "Rose is a widow."
"She is?" Elena looks shocked. The poor girl, I almost feel bad for her.
"You didn't really think I was dating both of them, did you?" I ask incredulously.
Elena bites her lip looking insecure. Holy shit! She thinks I'm taken. Well, that explains a lot.
"Elena. I don't have a girlfriend." I say firmly.
"You don't?" She blushes, how I love that blush! Even though she's older now, I still see her as an innocent.
"I just go out with those women for the press." I explain. It's just damage control for my company. Nobody wants to do business with a weirdo.
"It's not like we sit around playing chess, but I don't love any of them." 'Not like I love you,' I add in my head. I'm such a coward, ugh.
Her lips part in understanding.
I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves. "Elena. There's only one person in this world that I want to marry."
She freezes. I swear, I can practically hear heart beating from where I am sitting.
"And that person..." I say softly and slowly and she looks at me. "And that person is you." I say grabbing her hand.
"What?" She asks shocked, looking down at our hands.
I take another breath. "Elena. I'm in love with you."
"You are?" She asks, her eyes going wide.
"You know I am." I say firmly and wait for a response. The longest minutes of my life.
Really, only like a minute passes before she reacts and boy - does she react. She literally jumps me. The girl fucking tackles me, throwing her hands around my neck and squeezes me tight. I feel cherished for the first time in my life. And I love it!
What am I thinking? I have to show her the time of her life. Fuck yeah, I think as I kiss her soundly on the lips. This wasn't anything like that 'you're still sleeping kissy thing', no, this is real. This is really happening - in my fucking kitchen. I'm sorry, but I can't keep this in my pants for a minute longer, I've waited too long for this moment.
I easily make Elena straddle my lap. Fuck! She feels amazing. I love how the weight of her. I kiss her lips and then start to kiss down her throat. Her skin is softer than even the sweetest of my dreams. It feels wonderful.
"Are you okay with this?" I ask as my hands inch ever so slowly up her legs, over her knees and both heading in the direction of her sweet spot. I cheer inside as her legs stretch a little to accommodate my pursuit.
"Do you want me to stop?" I ask before my fingers reach her undies.
Elena shakes her head with a shy smile and then my fingers begin to caress her through her undies. I can feel her wetness soaking through. Damn, she turns me on. She sighs, grinding into my raging boner. Ugh, what a tease.
"Damon?" She whispers my name as a question and I hope she doesn't back out. Please don't back out!
"Hmm?" I reply.
"Did you ever, umm, get off to me, umm while I lived here?" She asks, biting her lip.
"Fuck yeah." I answer bluntly.
Elena blushes and now I'm wondering why she asked. "Did you ever fantasize about me?" I ask curiously.
"Sometimes." She admits with a coy smile. Shit, I think I just got harder. She really needs to stop making that face.
"Wow." I say as I return to kissing her and feeling her up. "Why didn't you ever say something?" I ask desperately. If only she had said something.
"You were - are - Damon Salvatore." She replies with her large doe eyes that make me grateful that I'm sitting down for this. "And I was just some girl you found on the street with a stupid crush."
"My Elena." I whisper and kiss her hard. I can't believe it. It's true. She's crazy about me too!
"I used to close my eyes." She admits in a hushed voice. "And wish that you would..."
"Wish that I what?" I ask while unbuttoning her silk top to reveal her creamy colored bra.
"Wish that you.." She gasps as my tongue caresses her cleavage. "You'd kiss me and touch me."
"Hmm." I grin. "Like this you mean?" I ask, rubbing her nipples through her bra.
"Yeah, just like that." She trails off, slowly taking a deep breath.
"You naughty girl." I tease, feeling pretty good about myself.
"I would close my eyes and imagine us here in this kitchen." She continues. "We used to spend a lot of time in here, back in the day."
"Yes, we did." I agree with her before unclasping her bra. God, what a sight. Her breasts are amazing.
Elena moans. "Thinking about it now has the same effect as it did before."
I pause my sucking, but still cup her breasts in my hands. "Oh yeah?"
"Damon, I want you so much." She admits with lustful eyes. "I don't even know what to do with myself."
I smirk at her words. Fuck, she makes me hot. I decide to pester her a little more. "Tell me what you did back then to - relieve -yourself."
"Damon!" She smacks my chest and buries her face in the crook of my neck.
"Fine." I grumble. "I'll tell you what I did. Still did up to this morning."
Elena stills in my arms.
"Every morning I wake up rock hard because of you! You in my fucking dreams!" I say grabbing her face in my hands, trying to make her understand what she puts me through. "I would lay in bed or stand in the shower and jack off, thinking of you. I swear. I just wanted to know what you felt like and it just got worse every year that you got older."
My lips cling to her shoulders. Kissing her all over. Showing her how much I care for her. "I used to think about what kind of sounds you'd make if I finally got my chance with you." I whisper before taking her earlobe in my mouth.
"You have me now." She moans and writhes in my lap.
I sigh, my hands move up the sides of her body, over her arms, her neck until they are back on her bare breasts.
"You are mine." I say, squeezing her breasts in my hands, almost roughly. "And I'm not gonna let you ever leave my side."
"Touch me." She pleads, grinding down on me, causing my eyes to widen. She really know how to push me.
"Damon." She whispers, grinding into me. Something tells me that she likes what she feels from the look on her face.
I wrap my arms around and kiss her hard until she gasps, her body shivers in anticipation. "I'm going to make love to you." I say and lift her body up and sit her down on the island.
Elena grins as I take off my shirt and throw it to the side.
"I want to take off your pants." She blurts out, nearly making me cum on the spot.
"Umm, okay." I say stupidly and walk over to her so she can reach down to get my zipper.
Oh my fucking God, this is really happening!
Her hand goes to the front of my black jeans and neither of us are saying anything to the other. Both of us know how huge this moment is. We're finally crossing the line.
I feel her fingers as they go into my boxers and wrap around me. Her hand is so soft and warm, just as it should be. Fuck, this feels good as she strokes me.
There's a look of womanly pride on her face.
Fuck.
"That's enough of that." I say, pulling away from her. "I want to be inside of you." I say gruffly.
There's no way I'm going to cum in her hand like a pubescent boy. No way.
In a matter of seconds, I draw her panties off her legs, but leave her skirt on. I've imagined boning her in this skirt more than a few times... What can I say? It's a turn on.
At last we both reach nirvana as I push into her. I knew she was ready for me. She cries out in pleasure and it makes my heart soar. I make her wrap her legs around my waist and I slam her back against my fridge.
I thrust high inside of her and her head bobs a little against the hard surface. I go slowly at first, but then faster, pulling in and out until she's crying my name, fiercely digging her nails into my back. I can feel her tightening around me, harder and harder, after each push.
Elena climaxes quickly and her fingers are pulling at my hair as she spasms around me. I pause my thrusting, allowing her to ride her high and when she stops pulling my hair... she kisses me with a goofy expression. But I'm not done yet, not even close - lover.
I stay buried inside of her as I carry her over to the table and manage to lay her down on it. With a quick pull, I rip her skirt away from her. Her legs are draped high around my waist and our rhythm is slow but firm. Once it dawns upon her that we're still going at it, she begins to push back onto me. That's it, baby, I edge her on in my mind. Her hair sprawls out across the table and draws a sharp breath as she readjusts to the sensations.
I love watching her envelop me. My cock glistens every time I pull out of her. I run my hands over her body and tease her nipples, before bending down to kiss her. She groans because it causes me to hit her extra deep. Oh yeah, she likes that. When I pull away, she's out of breath, her eyes are rolling back in satisfaction as she mewls all over tr table.
That's right, Elena, I think. I'm going to make her lose her mind. My hand slips down to massage her clit and she gives me a few good screams for it. Good thing it's New Year's Eve and we're the only ones home.
I reach under the table to grip her ass as I plow into her. I love hearing her gasps as they mingle with my own. We sound glorious together. Her hips begin to jerk up and down and I know she's close again. I stare down at her, watching the waves of pleasure hit her. I love knowing that I'm the one doing this to her. She grabs the edge of the table as she squeezes her inner muscles tight around me.
A part of me wants to savor this, to draw it out, but I know this can't last forever. She feels so good and I love her so much. I come hard and she does too, I cling to her to her as I meet oblivion.
Our bodies are sweaty, sticking to each other before I realize how uncomfortable this must be for her - me on top while she's still laying on this hard table. I pull out of her and use my arms to hold my weight as I stare down at her. She opens her eyes and grins up at me like a fool.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to be in this kitchen again and not blush." She says, covering her eyes with her hands. She giggles a little making me chuckle. She's just too cute.
"I'm glad it happened here." I say honestly, scooping her up in my arms. "But I think it's time to go up to my nice big bed."
"Did you ever fantasize about us like that in there?" She asks, wrapping her arms around my neck.
"Nothing comes close to the real thing." I reply. "Believe me."
"Do you ever wonder why met that night?" She asks in a curious voice.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, do you think we're meant to be?" She whispers.
"I know we are." I say in a hoarse voice. Someday I'll tell her about my mother's ghost, but not today.
"Do you mean it?" She asks I walk us into my bedroom.
"Elena. I love you..." I say as I tuck her into my bed. "And I think, I hope... that you love me back?"
"I do, Damon, I love you." She nods with great enthusiam.
"Thank God." I say relieved. I lay on my side and stare at her. "I mean what I said downstairs... I'm not going to let you go. That's not an option at this point."
Elena kisses me in response, climbing on top of me. Fuck, I sure can get used to this. Her legs go around me and once again, we're together as one.
We make love this time, slow and softly. I hear her every breath across my skin, her every murmur, this is heaven. Yes, this is heaven, I tell her so as we climax together. Our bodies go limp together and I spoon her close to me. She's right where she belongs, surely she must feel it too.
"Elena?" I ask after awhile wondering if maybe she fell asleep.
"Yes?" She returns in a whisper.
"Will you marry me?" I ask, putting my heart on the line. This is it.
She freezes in my arms and I swear my heart stops, but then she jerks in my arms and turns over to look at me with a shocked expression.
"Just hear me out." I say in a panicked voice. "You know I'm in love with you. Been in love with you since the moment you stepped into my kitchen the first time. Um, you already know that I would take good care of you. I always did. I can't explain it, but you're always - and I mean always - on my mind and you bring me out of my shell. And I have a big dic-"
Elena smiles profusely, covering my mouth with the palm of her left hand. "Damon! Will you just shut up so I can say yes?"
This is going to be a great New Year, I think as I kiss the lights out of her.
The End
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A/N: Wow, 11600+ words not bad... LOL - I hope you understand why I couldn't have them have sex right after she got to his house. I've never really mastered at writing a PWP. :) Be Good & Review! P.S.: Already working on #42 of YKING, so that'll be out soon.
Prompt by 123nenagirl: Damon Salvatore hates Christmas. He's about to spend a lonely Christmas Eve when his mother's ghost suddenly appears beside his bed. She yells at him to stop pitying himself and to do something nice for the people that are less fortunate out in the world. Damon is shaken after seeing his mother's ghost. He goes out in the cold streets and finds a hobo - Elena, of course. He decides to take her home and give her the gift of having a perfect Christmas. After the poor hobo girl gets cleaned up, Damon sees how gorgeous she is, feelings ensue and the sexiness begins. Damon Salvatore has promised himself to show her the time of her life.