Alrighty, this is a Damon and oc fic because I just really feel like he deserves some proper loving because I am team Damon until I die! I haven't watched any of the 4th season of TVD because quite frankly I'm dissappointed in the way that they have decided to portray Elena. I loved her in the books and I just don't like the direction the show took. This fic will be based in a lot of season 2 and 3 but I am seriously going to jack the plot up. There are going to be a lot of different couples in this fic and I'm still playing around with the idea of vampires having mates, so please share your thoughts. This fic will really concentrate on the Originals and the doppleganger sacrifice but with a twist. I would also like to add that this is an...opening chapter. Kind of just to see if you guys like the idea of it. So please tell me what you think and share your thoughts, it means a lot! Enjoy chapter one! :)
P.S. The title might change but I thought it was kind of fitting. And it is lyrics from Ed Sheeran's song Kiss Me.
She felt jittery, being in a new town and all. She was alone and always had been, always would be, that's not what bothered her. Lily had always known that what she had had was an allusion of family and friends. Of course, there was Aunt Katherine, who wasn't really her aunt but that's all Lily knew to call her. The other option was Grandma, and seeing as Katherine could barely pass as an Aunt, Grandma was really pushing it. She was afraid, terrified, really and she didn't know how to react to finally being in this town. Yes, she had a plan but the execution of the plan is what kicked her anxiety into gear and tied her stomach in knots and the fact that she might not be as ready for this as she had thought. Pushing those troubling thoughts away, Lily took a deep, necessary breath and then pushed open the double doors leading into the Mystic Grill.
Thinking, Let the chips fall where they may.
Damon was a swirling vortex of emotions at the moment. Anger, hate, sorrow, jealousy, exasperation, and sadness all warred for dominance inside of him. A deep and seemingly incurable sadness. How many times could she, would she deny him? Deny this thing between them? Her denial cut him deeper than he would like to admit. Damon closed his eyes, lifted the shot glass to his lips, and relished the slow burn of the whiskey as it slid down his throat. These day, it was as if the sharp pain of Elena's rejection and the burn of good alcohol was all he could feel. Well, that and his homicidal rage. He cast a long look around the Grill. It was empty, except for a few other occupants, which was to be expected at this hour.
Suddenly, a cell phone rang out across from him and slightly to the left. He shifted subtly in his seat and was surprised to find a girl, barely a young woman, digging through the bag by her side and fishing out her phone. When she looked down to see who was calling, her entire body tensed and Damon felt shame and guilt and nervousness roll off of her in great waves. Then, with an air of determination, she flipped the phone open and answered. Damon didn't even feel one iota of guilt as he listened to her conversation.
"I know what I'm doing. I know the consequences and I'm finally at peace with my decision. I have to do this! Nothing you do or say will change my mind...so just...just stay away." The girl said firmly, harshly, but Damon could smell the salt of her tears. The sorrow in her eyes that was reflected in his irises when he let his walls crumble down. She hung up before whoever was on the other side could speak.
Damon's curiosity, and suspicion, were piqued now. For when she had spoken, Damon knew he had never meant her before. And new residences of the town as of late have been dangerous and a gigantic pain in his ass. While he didn't mind ripping someone's heart out, it was the chasing and the being staked that irritated him. As if she sensing his eyes on her, the girl's head swung up to connect their eyes. He had to resist the urge to gape, that would give away how caught off guard he was. And Damon despised being caught off guard; he prided himself on his constant vigilance.
But this girl, she looked so familiar. Her bone structure was feminine but strong. Her jaw was defined and led to a gently sloping, graceful neck. The neck that no doubt contained sweet tasting blood. Her nose was like a button and her hair was a rich, deep, chocolate-brown with strands of barely there red.
Why is it always brunettes? He asks himself in exasperation.
But what's really drawing him in isn't her beauty or how he can sense and relate to each of the feelings coursing through her but it is strictly her eyes. They are a vibrant blue one moment and then they are a silvery, pale grey, like the moon in the night sky the next. They are filled with determination, strength, fear, and pain. And he takes a moment to wonder what put that pain in her eyes. Damon also appreciates the fact that her eyes are so very expressive, which makes it easier to tell when someone lies. Like when their denying their feelings, suppressing them.
And we're right back to square one. Damon thought, scowling before refilling his shot glass and quickly knocking it back once more. But her open and obviously kind face painfully reminded him of his mother. He flickered his eyes to the girl again, deciding that he would figure out her endgame. Right now. After one more drink. It's not like he had the ability to become inebriated and make a complete and utter ass of himself, not anymore. He'd lost thought when he lost his humanity. Then again, he didn't need alchohol to be an ass.
Besides, who could resist Damon Salvatore when he poured on the charm?