Hello Readers:) This story is an idea I got after watching the movie Keith. I started writing it as a one-shot, but when I finished, it was almost 20 pages long, so I kept going back and forth with what to do. Anyway, right after I decided and posted it as a one-shot, I got another idea, so I quickly deleted it. (Note: I'm not usually this indecisive.) It's all finished now, but it ended up being even longer, so I'm going to post it in 8 shorter parts. I hope you guys enjoy it! Please let me know what you think:)

NOTE: Stefan isn't Damon's brother in this story, but he will appear in the story at some point as Stefan Moretti, Caroline's Italian foreign exchange student.

DISCLAIM: I don't own the movie Keith nor do I own the Vampires Diaries, so all characters, places, and ideas you see that are familiar belong to them and not to me. That is all:)


My Love Immortal

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"Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality." – Emily Dickinson

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1.

The first time I ever laid eyes on a vampire, I couldn't believe it. It's not possible, I told myself, but it was. It is possible. Vampires do exist, and Damon was right all along.

The first time a vampire laid eyes on me, I knew it was too late. Too late to make good on my promise. Too late to save the boy I love. Too late to save myself.

He didn't look like any vampire I'd ever imagined; Klaus Mikaelson. I thought he'd be a little more Dracula-esque, but he was actually a rather dashing young British man with baby blue eyes and blonde hair. Despite his innocent outward appearance, there was evil behind those eyes. I watched them turn red, saw the black veins snake across his face before he sunk his fangs into my neck and started to feed.

It didn't hurt, but it should have. All I felt was relief. It was strange…I'd always been scared of death, but then, as it stared me straight in the face all I felt was calm. This is as it should be, I thought, Everything dies.

But then I remembered; he doesn't. I knew what I had to do. Soon, I knew, I'd be dead, but there was something I had to do first…

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6 Months Ago

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I met Damon Salvatore half-way through Senior Year of high school. It was very unusual to see a new student so far into the school year, especially the last year of high school, but no one cared to know why he'd switched schools. The kids all thought he was weird, and since he didn't give a damn what they thought of him, they thought he was even weirder. I myself was one of those people. Unfortunately, as Damon's lab partner in AP Chemistry, we were required to spend time with one another. I couldn't escape him.

"Hey there, Partner," Damon had said when he first walked into Mr. Saltzman's classroom and slid into the empty seat next to me at the lab table.

I took my eyes off my Chemistry notebook and raised an eyebrow at him questionably. "What?"

Damon, with his ice blue eyes and raven hair, had stuck out his hand and repeated, "I said, 'Hey there, Partner'." I reluctantly returned his hand shake, and he smiled as he offered up his name, "Damon Salvatore."

"Elena Gilbert," I'd returned.

"Ha, so you don't remember then," Damon said with a smirk.

"Remember…?" I prompted while shaking my head back and forth.

"Well, I stood behind you in the sixth grade play," Damon pointed out, "You were the princess, and I was Russian soldier number three."

I remembered the play, but…not him. I told him the truth, "Don't remember that."

"Of course not," Damon stated sarcastically, "A Princess never remembers the little people."

I rolled my eyes at his comment and returned to my notes. "Oh, excuse me while I cry for you."

That was my very first impression of Damon; sarcastic, rude and pushy. After Chemistry lab that first day, I had tried to talk Mr. Saltzman into assigning us different partners, but he'd refused. He agreed that Damon and I lacked…well, chemistry, but he thought we were capable of working through that. On my way out the door, I had overheard Damon complaining about being assigned to me! "About this Elena Gilbert thing," Damon had said, talking to Mr. Saltzman like they were old friends, "Alaric, she's a complete anal-compulsive control freak. How do you expect me to work with that?" I couldn't believe it. How could I be the harder one to work with? He's the one who didn't even read the directions or labels before mixing together possibly combustible materials. He was going to kill us before the end of the year, but apparently, Mr. Saltzman had faith things would work out for the better.

A week later, Damon and I had our first lab report to write up. I'd suggested we split up the work so we could do it ourselves, but Damon pretty much admitted he wouldn't do his part unless we wrote the lab report together. I complained, but eventually agreed to meet after school. I thought we'd meet in the library and get started there, but Damon, who never does the first thing you expect him to, had other plans.

I somehow found myself in the passenger seat of his '69 Chevy Camaro, heading into town. "Where are we going?" I'd asked him.

"Oh, nowhere in particular," Damon replied before returning his eyes to the road. He talked about our lab report topic while I wrote down his points on paper. He probably drove in a circle on the same suburban block three times before I asked him what the Hell he thought he was doing. "Sheesh, what's your rush? We're here, in a beat up old Chevy, got a road ahead of us and absolutely nothing but opportunities…"

"Uh, no," I told him with a shake of my head, "We don't. I have fifteen minutes until I need to be back at school for cheerleading practice. I told you that before, Damon. And after practice, I have a meeting with the Yearbook Committee. Then, I have to go home and do all the homework for my other classes. I don't just have all day to drive around with you."

"All right, all right," Damon groaned, "Calm down, Partner. We've got plenty of time. I'll drop you back off at school." After we arrived at the school and I hopped out of his car, he'd unrolled the window and called out, "So I'll pick you up at midnight then?"

I whipped back around and leaned into the window, hissing, "What are you talking about? Why would I do that?" I'd hoped no one heard him say that because then they might have thought I was actually friends with him…

"So we can finish our report," Damon answered in an obvious tone, like I was idiot for not agreeing with his brilliant plan.

"Uh, yeah, I don't think so…"

"Well, I'll be outside to pick you up at midnight," Damon had said, "If you're not there, then I guess we'll get an F on this report. That's cool with me." He drove away before I could argue.

That night when midnight rolled around, I was still in my bed debating whether or not Damon was serious about meeting up when I heard his Chevy Camaro roaring up the road. How he even knew where I lived, I had no idea. I think at the time I'd convinced myself that I only got dressed and ran out there to keep my parents from waking up, but in reality, I was curious about Damon Salvatore. He wasn't like other boys in Mystic Falls. He didn't care what people thought about him, or what the cool thing to do was. He was simply himself. I kind of envied him for that.

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Reviews are welcome and appreciated:)