The fog drifted through the cemetery, caressing the tombstones like a doting lover. The seemingly breathing, living essence settled around the frame of a young girl, sinking through her clothes, causing her to shiver through to her core. She frowned into the pages of her diary, visibly agitated at the sudden change. She stood, picking up her purse and stuffing her green leather journal into the bag before running towards her waiting car on the edge of the woods. The repeated caw of a crow forced her into a sprint. Once she reached safety, she quickly opened the door and sped away from the cemetery.
Damon smiled as he remembered their first meeting. He often teased her for running from a crow and something as harmless as fog. He hadn't meant to scare her; he only wanted a taste of the town that used to be oh so familiar. While Mystic Falls was home, he knew that change had reached the sleepy town during his forty-year absence. The town rested while Damon continued to tour the world, alone and lonely. His last visit resulted in utter chaos: he had tortured Stefan until the carnage became impossible to hide. He left, leaving his brother to deal with the damage. But his investigations proved the town had recovered and returned to the quiet, peaceful town initially intended by the founding families. The town had progressed, it had healed, and Damon felt inclined to stay for a while. Once he saw her face, once he felt her soul through the fog, his decision was final.
He stepped away from the window, bringing his mind back to the present as he pulled the curtain closed to block the rising sun's rays, protecting the sleeping woman who lay in his bed. He poured himself his fourth glass of scotch before sitting on the antique chair hidden in the corner of his room. He watched his conquest as she slept, listening to the sound of her slowly beating heart and rhythmic breathing. It faltered. His brow furrowed. She sighed and turned, her breathing resuming its proper course. Perhaps he had taken too much blood from his willing victim. He gulped the whiskey before returning to bed, gathering his prey into his arms as he fell into an intoxicated daze.
"Damon, wake up…" She whispered as she kissed his neck, slowing working her way towards the back of his ear. She frowned, as the only sign of life from the undead was a slight twitch of his eyelids. "Please?"
He lunged at her, pinning her underneath him on the bed, causing a short, surprised scream to escape Elena's lips.
Author's Note: Don't worry, lovelies. The smut is coming, and quickly!
Please please please review! They are like hearts, and unicorns, and everything love.