I do not own The Vampire Diaries
Damon pressed a kiss to the cold, pale forehead and bent down, lifting the too still body in his arms with ease. The vampire didn't speak or look at anyone as he walked out of the tomb, carrying the corpse of Alaric Saltzman like it weighed nothing. He was vaguely aware of a feminine voice calling out his name. Elena's plea went unheeded.
She couldn't fix this. She couldn't erase this gut-wrenching feeling. And she sure as hell couldn't fill the empty void in his chest.
But maybe, just maybe. His old friend Bourbon could take away his pain. For a little while.
