Author: laughingseal

Pairing: Damon/Elena, Slight Damon/Katherine

Rating: PG

Category: Romance

Summary: Katherine reflects on the kiss that's not hers.

Spoilers: During 1x22.

Word-count: 362 words

As Damon Salvatore's lips bruised her own, she thought of the young man he was when they first were acquainted – earnest and passionate. She knew at the time that he had loved her without comparison but in the 21st Century, she was being kissed like no man had ever kissed her before. It was a terrifying reality that she may never feel this way again because the kiss - though it was still happening and his lips were still pressed heatedly to hers – was not her kiss.

Trying to suppress the jealousy surging within, she finally broke free from Damon and stared at him in confusion and fear. What did he want from her? Was he aware of her real identity? Maybe this was a trick?

But the expression he wore was one she had never seen on him before. It was so strange to see his face so open and trusting, especially as a vampire.

The loneliness of vampirehood and being unable to trust anyone was unbearable and Katherine almost wept from the lancing pain through her heart like a proverbial stake. With a practiced pull, Damon drew her to him, surprise still evident on his face and she could no more deny him than she could suppress the wanton call of blood within her – within them. She thought the lust for blood would be the strongest pull she would ever feel, but her yearning to be a different person – one who was worthy of him – was stronger.

Suddenly, Elena's Aunt Jenna opened the door and Katherine debated killing her instead of John if only to punish her for interrupting the moment. But she was just as happy that it had ended when it did. Just a few seconds of sharing intimacies with one Damon Salvatore had put her entire world askew.

With the same breath, she realized she needed more and in yet another, would be happy to never lay eyes on him again.

Shrugging off the Damon mantra in her head, Katherine followed Jenna into the house, her hands negligently tracing the searing imprint of his kiss. She would need her wits about her for the task at hand.

END