Summary: Damon has a human wife and son who are unaware of his vampire status. Torn between his love for Elena and his new family, follow Damon's story as he realizes that fate has someone else in store for him. Someone other than Mystic Falls girls…

Please give this fic a chance. Read & Review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries, but if I did, I would have paired Damon with someone better than Elena.

A/N: I know reading OC fanfics can be difficult, but I've so much faith in this story. I promise not to let you guys down. Read & Review

Prologue

She was unique in her own ways, he had concluded, though her uniqueness was never recognized. She liked to be hidden in shadows, away from attention, away from vigilance. The first time he had met her, he actually didn't meet her in person, but she was along a group of highschoolers with whom he had a counseling session.

He described her to be the quiet and calm one, a perfect nobody. He was a bit amused at her attire, covered from head to toe, when all other high school girls were wearing clothes as short as possible. Too catholic, one of her friends saidupon asking. Having nothing left in the town to do, he had surprisingly found a new hobby in her.A clichéd orphan, living with her uncle who was a Cardinal. She was too orthodox to even remove her scarf in summers. A perfect weirdo, he wondered, if she were in Mystic Falls.

It was a Friday night, as Damon clearly remembered, when he made the biggest mistake of his too long of a life. It was raining and he was not in the mood to enjoy it. Searching for a shade, he collided with her. Never in the six months that he had spent in Furmanlay, had he really, really seen her. He was astonished enough to acknowledge how his vampire vision could overlook such a beauty. He found her to be irresistible, captivating as he carefully studied her face, her exquisitely placed features. She had blonde hair, dripping wet, and as he removed a few strands of those silk soft tresses, he winced at the coldness of her skin. Her breath was warm at his face and he could tell she was running away. From the terrified look in her eyes, it was certain that… And she pushed him towards the ground, falling on the wet mud at the top of him, her warm-wet blanket covering them. He heard men approaching, shouting and enraged. It was certain that she was concealing from them, though he had no idea why.

He slowly shifted his attention to her as she lay wrapped up on the top of him. Hot tears trickled down her eyes and melted in his cheeks. He found his hand sliding down her waist, and how she gripped him, harder, closer, trying to keep them in the blanket, between the bushes. Men came all night along, furious. But, their little spot was never discovered. Voices decreased, figures faded. She had fallen asleep, is his arms. And to an outsider, it looked as if she had clutched her lover, her salvation to death.

Damon could not be afraid of those men; he had seen many a riots in his days. The situation looked quite amusing to him. Honor killing, twentieth century? He could slaughter the entire town if he wished to, of course, but, he wouldn't. The people were too dear to him. It was like a second home to him after Mystic Falls, an alternative life. He looked at her once again. Tiny beams of sun, as they came through the blanket, painted her face orange, a sight so unforgettable. He lifted his head out of the blanket, checking out if there was anyone, not in the mood to compel. He lightly lifted her body and carried her to his place.

At school, she continued to be her older self despite of what had happened between them. It was his eyes which were getting way too much distracted in her presence while giving lectures, not hers. Maybe she didn't want to try anything reckless to gain attention, even though he was giving her ample opportunities to. And, slowly, he resigned from the task of making her open up; he came back to his normal self- treating her like a nobody once again as everyone did. Until, one night, she showed up at his doorstep, once again, wet from the rain and terrified from the outraged men. But, this time, she did something which she didn't the last time. She spoke.

"Hide me." She pleaded, willing to give herself to a man she barely knew.

He made her coffee, gave her a blanket and offered her his bed, which she accepted. He stayed awake while she slept, waking up in between, screaming due to nightmares. And, he found himself comforting her. In the morning, when she was ready to give an explanation, he listened, like a child to fairy tales. He was agonized at the fate that had befallen her.

During the months they stayed together, he discovered more of her virtues. She was shy and did not speak much; he had observed this a while ago. Alcohol had a somewhat negative effect on her. That night, when she accidently drank some wine from his shelf, a bit too much, Damon saw a completely different side of her. She was evidently brave, murmuring his name, her hands exploring him when he tried to get hold of her, to prevent her from falling. Damon smiled to himself, knowing that she was a bit taken with him.

Remembering the events of that night, she grew shyer, hideous.

He was out one night and when he returned home, he found her in the shower. She had put some food for him in the table, which he left untouched. He descended to his bed, sitting there idly. Until, the bathroom door opened. He watched her make an appearance, her hair wet from the shower, a little towel wrapped around her middle portion.

She was shocked, embarrassed to find him there, she was trembling in fact. And, unintended as it was, the towel slipped which she gathered around her waist, but, her front was revealed. Damon noticed nothing but the scars emblazoned in her skin, cuts from knives, deep marks of ropes, sticks…and Damon couldn't think more. He found himself approaching her. As he brushed his fingers at the scars, she clung to him, letting him touch her, feel her, caress her.

The following morning, Damon opened his eyes to find her sleeping peacefully beside him. She looked so natural, so content.

And, the, slowly the horrors of what he had done came to him. How could he sleep with her when all his life he confessed to love Elena? No, this couldn't be happening, he loved Elena.

Or maybe he didn't anymore…

To be continued…

A/N: I still haven't decided a name for Damon's little, new mate. Help me find one, guys! All suggestions are welcome! Thank you, bye.