author's note ; so i'm trying a theme i enjoy reading and it's much darker then what i've done in the past. TRIGGER WARNINGS: blood, gore, sexual harassment. SHOUTOUT to my homie who helped edit this: Kris ( .com )

disclaimer: unfortunately, i do not own the vampire diaries or any of its characters.

Oh, up down, turn around, please don't let me hit the ground.

Tonight I think I'll walk alone,

find my soul as I go home.

Temptation - Moby

A lean body laid in the middle of Wickery Bridge, azure hues focused up at the sky as dark as his obsidian hair while he awaited his next meal. It was quiet, with only the rustling of leaves and the sound of rippling water to fill the empty vacuum around the infamous Damon Salvatore, who had returned to the small town three months early for the comet.

The stars, burning as bright as his eyes, nearly distracted him from his purpose of laying down on a road littered with gravel, undoubtedly scuffing his leather jacket. That was, until he heard approaching footsteps, his attention turning to see a female making her way towards him, her head tilted down towards her shoes.

Moving up from the ground at a supernatural speed, he appeared in front of her, eyes narrowed as they observed olive skin and long, hazelnut hair. Frightened by the sudden appearance, the female stumbled backwards, doe eyes piercing icy orbs. Mouth gaping open, Damon spoke.

"Katherine?" he accused, confusion evident in bright eyes as they swept over the lithe body once more.

The girl swept a long piece of her hair behind her ear, clueless expression reflecting his.

"I'm Elena. Elena Gilbert," she corrected in a wary tone. In a town that had no more than eighteen hundred people in it, it was rare to see an unfamiliar face. "You know, it's a little creepy to find a man who was lying in the middle of the road near midnight," she stated, crossing her arms.

Oh, it was all too easy for Damon to accept this was not his beloved Katherine—she seemed so wary and skittish, and while she attempted to speak with a solid tone, he could hear it shake. She was scared. The thought made him smirk wickedly towards Elena.

"It's called star-gazing, princess. Some would argue it's even creepier to stumble across a girl near midnight, also known as curfew," he retorted coolly while he slowly began to approach her. Blood rushed to her cheeks and he felt his gums ache as the idea of tilting her head back and sinking his fangs into her throat flitted through his mind. However, his eyes wavered over her long olive legs, and suddenly wasn't hungry for just blood.

"I'm meeting my ride here," she said defensively, glowering at the man, though he could only smile savagely at her in response. "Who are you?" she demanded.

All things aside, the man was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome: onyx hair, bright eyes, clad in a leather jacket and black jeans—it made her tremble. He looked like the Devil, and he may as well could be the way his eyes were glinting dangerously and he began approaching her once more. While instinct wanted her to run, or at least step back, she was frozen to the spot.

Reaching down, he grasped her hand, raising it to his lips to kiss her knuckles, and his dark expression shifted into something…sweeter.

"Damon Salvatore's the name," he replied in a sultry tone that had Elena blushing once more. Still holding her hand with a gentle grasp, he canted his head to gaze softly at her. "Now who abandons such a beautiful face and forces her to walk all the way to Wickery Bridge to get a ride?" he practically purred, reaching up to stroke her cheek.

Stranger danger is hard to consider when the stranger is handsome.

Slowly, a smirk fluttered across Elena's soft lips. The alcohol was still in her system from the bonfire, and the man's intoxicating, woodsy scent was making her senses become damn near useless. It was a strange effect, and instead of being drunk, it felt more like being high,

"Why do you assume I was ditched?" she replied, dark gaze meeting his.

"Well, perhaps you can clear up the reason why you're out here?" he suggested, smirking back at her.

"My…boyfriend?" That sounded convincing. "We were at a party and the entire time it's 'I love you' and 'you're perfect', and he imagines us with a big house here in Mystic Falls with kids and a lawn mower," she sighed.

Damon shuffled closer, but she didn't seem to care, her eyes unwavering while they bored into his. "That doesn't sound like a very exciting future," he drawled, frowning.

"It's not! I don't want to live in this town my entire life like my parents and pretend like we live in some form of utopia when there's a world out there—a world I want to see: good or bad. I want something with adventure and passion and—"

"Danger?" Damon murmured into her ear, his fingers lingering on her hips.

Once more, Elena was smirking, a night of chugging cheap beer encouraging her to reach up and brush her fingers over his solid chest, covered by a tight black shirt.

"Are you dangerous, Damon?"

Fucking tease. The vampire licked his lips slowly, briefly acknowledging the way Elena's bourbon eyes becoming very interested in the actions of his tongue. He leaned forward, close enough where he could feel her warm, alcohol-scented breath. It was overwhelming; it was downright intoxicating to be in the presence of someone who looked just like the love of his life, and yet was so painstakingly different. He knew she wasn't Katherine, but his lips still moved forward in attempt to kiss her like she was—to leave a drugging kiss onto her mouth until she couldn't breathe. His lips brushed hers in the most tentative of touches, one that involved such a lack of friction, it could barely be called a kiss.

And all because right then the sound of tires began to roll over the gravel, pulling Damon out of a sense of blindness and into a more alert position. He turned, noticing headlights approaching in the distance. Turning his attention back to Elena who was staring at him with wide eyes, his hands squeezed her waist, conflicted with the option to steal her away for himself, compel her to forget—or kill her.

If he was to return to this town, he couldn't have this Katherine-look-alike running around, teasing him. It simply wasn't fair. Besides, by the speed in which the oncoming vehicle was approaching, he didn't think Elena's father would care if he found his drunk, flirtatious daughter in the bottom of the lake just beneath the bridge. As the car got closer, Damon could depict a firm voice confirming his thoughts: I'm going to kill her for ruining family night to get drunk and have us drive all the way out here to pick her up.

However, Damon was feeling rather lazy—or perhaps that's what humanity feels like—and killing Elena didn't seem as pleasing as it did before he knew her name.

Elena turned to look at her father through the front window of his Suburban, and when she peered back to apologize to the man, he was gone.

author's note ; please comment and let me know if you liked this. please and thank you c: