AN: Hey everyone! I am back! and I have a new story. This is a little experiment with the Caroline/Damon relationship. Hope you enjoy it. :) - FlamingRose11
The year is 1924. To be frank, it isn't too terrible of a century so far. Of course it's not as great as 1864. Nothing would be better than being again he does like the shorter skirts. He always did like the sight of women's legs. He looks around him. His brother and Katherine are the soul survivors of his past life. One he doesn't speak to, one he longs for. Now come to think of it, besides the shorter skirts on the women and the lax morals, 1924 sucks. He should be around his eighties by now. Instead he's stuck like this. An eternity of a youthful exterior, and a soul worn down by too much of the world for his pleasure. Pleasure; he could use some of that right now.
"I can give it to you," Jordan whispered in his ear as she traced invisible circles on his chest. His signature smirk fell in place before he tilted his head to look at her eager face.
"Aw, you are so generous," he murmured against her neck. A small giggle escaped her before she inhaled sharply at the feel of his teeth sinking into her. He drank till her body went limp. Leaving her there in the hotel room, he got his coat and after wiping his mouth, gracefully took his leave of the lifeless hotel room.
He walked out into the streets of New York City. Stephan would have loved it here, he thought. The lights, the women, the excitement, the adventure. Then again he may not. He may have already been here. What did he know about his brother's whereabouts? Nothing. And that was how he wanted it. A twinge came to his chest at the thought of his brother. He cursed. He cursed Stephan for turning him into this monster. He cursed his mind for thinking of his brother. He cursed himself for caring about him.