Hey guys, new story! Yeah hate me all you want, but I had been busy as a bee. I will update Will Life Ever be Normal as soon as I get the time. Till then, you can tell me your thoughts about this one.

Please rate and review!

Because I could not stop for Death-
He kindly stopped for me-
The Carriage held but just Ourselves-
And Immortality.

- Emily Dickenson

Chapter – 1

Carpe diem.

Azalea snorted. How apt was this description which was a charm gifted from Hermione, dangling in the front mirror. This is how exactly she had been living her life. Her impulsive decisions and actions explained that her conscious recognized the true meaning of these two words.

Sometimes she disliked that Hermione was always right, ignoring that it had saved her arse a bajillion times.

She scratched her head. She was going bonkers, that's what's there it is to it. That's what it is to her decision to move to Mystic Falls and start a new life. She just does it – whatever is in her mind, she does it.

Well Master of Death has their perks, she replied snidely to her thoughts. Azalea continued driving, focussing on the road than delving into negative thoughts.

She blinked down the road she was driving in, watching a body sprawled on the floor. Merlin, what was it...?

Azalea pushed the breaks and jumped out of the car, slamming the door shut – was he injured? Cold dread engulfed her – he couldn't...be...

Azalea finally sighed in relief when she saw that he was breathing.

Suddenly her instincts screamed to her: run. It was night and it was gloomy and a suspicious breathing living person was lying on the middle of the road. It wasn't exactly pleasant to think about leaving him alone when he could be murdered in cold blood.

She took a deep breath, better know if he is alright or not. There can be many possibilities of him lying on the road anyways, he can't really be dangerous right?

She closed near him, "Er... 'ello? Mister?"

A grunt followed.

Was he injured? "Are you alright? Are you injured? What happened?" She leaned in closer as he shifted his face towards her. Raven black similar to hers shone from her car's headlight, a handsome face with angular features face seemingly scrunched up in pain appeared in front of Azalea's eyes.

Well, handsome or not, he was hurt. This much was evident.

"I'm... lost." He whispered raspily.

So he decided to make a picnic on a road? Genius.

"Er... as far as I remember, lying in the middle of the road doesn't really help." Azalea offered awkwardly, crouching beside him, checking if he was delirious due to any sort of blood loss. There were no injuries.

"Not that kind of lost." He murmured. She moved when he shifted his body to get up, her eyes meeting icy cold grey eyes with a hint of blue in them, "I'm lost... metaphorically... existentially."

Azalea looked at him with wide eyes. That look... it was the same as hers. When she lost Sirius... when George lost Fred...

"You need help," she blurted without thinking.

"Well..." The man pulled out a hip flask from his back pocket, taking a sip out of it, "Yes, I do. Can you help me?"

Azalea sighed and sat beside him, "I don't really know."

She didn't know what she was doing. Really, she was starting to think she was really going nutter. Even the man looked at her with wide eyes for a moment, before faltering into deep despair.

He had her empathy.

Well, if he was suspicious in any way, it's not like he could kill a person who controls death, now could he? Not exactly control, but still the same with her wand.

"First of all, you're drunk." Azalea gave a humourless laugh, "It will drown away all your miseries, but for how long? It will hit you back with vengeance with that awful hangover."

"You don't know the half of it pretty missy." The man slurred.

Azalea rolled her eyes, "How about we start with your name?"

The man gave her a long look, "... Damon. Damon Salvatore."

"Hmm... Damon, so tell me what's bothering you?"

Damon scrunched up his nose, "You're strange."

Azalea looked at him, not amused, "So that's what is bothering you? Maybe I should leave then." What was she thinking, helping him? She turned to walk back to her car.

"No! Please don't leave. I really do need help!" He cried desperately from behind her.

"Well, sorry mister you shouldn't have-" a whoosh of air and there was Damon holding on her arms tightly, glaring at her.

"Don't move." Damon commanded.

Cruel invasion pressed down Azalea's Occlumency walls, enough to piss Azalea off.

She resisted his grip, only to be tightened again.

"Don't. Move." He whispered intently, looking in her eyes with a mixture of confusion and irritation.

"You see Mr. Salvatore," Azalea managed out through her gritted teeth, "If you won't let go of me the consequences would be dire."

He was angry, that was for sure. But what he was... she wasn't sure.

Damon let her go. Azalea, rubbed her arms, glaring at him viciously. So much for being nice. The last thing – most probably never – she wanted in this town was supernatural, aka, trouble.

"On Vervain huh?" Damon snorted maliciously. Azalea didn't answer, but she got her answer. He was a Vampire. But if that kept him from drinking her blood, so be it.

But that doesn't stop him from killing her.

With the speed of a bloodthirsty Vampire, the aura of predator emanated from him already raising Azalea's hackles up. He had a tight hold of her neck, but that didn't stop her war-drilled instincts.

Pull the wand, aim for the kill.

"STUPEFY!"

"Urgh!"

Azalea struggled to breathe, holding her neck in relief as she saw him flying through the air. Her Stupefy was pretty strong, that gives her four minutes with his abnormal healing power.

Enough to make a run.

Azalea snorted out loud, making a dash for a car. She had something to discuss with the Ministry of Magic here.