Summary: Mystic Falls was always weird, in Leslie's opinion, but when the Salvatore brothers end up in her lives and she finds out that supernatural beings weren't just a fairy tale, she comes to realize her cozy life wasn't ever going to be the same.

I don't own anything except Leslie.

"How'd it get to be only me?
Like I'm the last damn kid still kicking
That still believes

I will defend the faith
Going down swinging
I will save the songs
That we can't stop singing

No, No
Wherever I go, go
Trouble seems to follow
I only plugged in to save rock and roll, rock and roll"

Save Rock and Roll - Fall Out Boy

It was an ordinary day if Leslie Harthgrow had to say so for herself; nothing extraordinary had happened to not make it out of the ordinary. She had done everything she usually did on an average summer day. She had woken up at eight in the morning exactly, made food that wasn't breakfast food, watched some random anime until she finished her meal, and then took her sketchbook and ventured into the large strip of forest behind her house. Leslie didn't bother changing out of her pajamas, which consisted of black tank top and some random pair of shorts, since it was a particularly warm day and the forested area behind her home never had any strangers roaming.

A loud yawn escaped Leslie's throat as she made her way to the large oak tree that she dubbed Leslie's Tree. The wood giant stood beside a small creek that ran into a larger river a mile away from her house, and she had made sure there were no wasps or snake nests by her area; she took extra precaution with those things, because last summer she had been stung at least twenty times and had swelled up like a tick. She had been running away from a snake when she had tumbled straight into a wasps nest, and that day became the day that she realised she needed to take care of the infestation that had taken over her little nook.

The ten minutes she took to go to her little slice of heaven were awfully boring to her. She had forgotten her phone, and no phone meant no music. She thought about making her own music, but a girl who looked lost making random noises in the woods wouldn't look good, no matter how good her explanation was. She settled on listening to the noises that were being produced by the small bugs and animals that were surrounding her in the canopy of the trees. Her bare feet squished against the dirt and grass and she felt completely at ease.

Her dark brown eyes lit up as she saw her tree that sat beside a calm, seemingly not flowing river. There was a fire pit beside the river that Leslie had made for whenever her and her friends decided to come to the river. She stepped to the river and placed a hesitant toe in the water. The lukewarm liquid greeted her and begged her to play, and she obliged. She put her sketchbook down by the river bank, not too close as to not ruin the book, and waded into the water. The crystal clear water reached to her upper thighs, and it took a great will power as to not fling herself into the water and spend hours just bathing in the sun. Just as Leslie put a hand into the water to splash around, she heard a twig snap. Now, that wouldn't worry her, but this cracking of wood didn't sound like an accidental noise made by an animal. No, it sounded like a shoe stomping on it as to make sure she heard it. She shook her head; her paranoia wasn't going to ruin the perfect day she was having.

The water swayed with every step she took and invited her to jump in, the warm liquid wanted her to jump in. Fuck it, she thought, I'm going swimming. Her legs took her into deeper water, and the warmness of the water licked at her shorts and torso. She took a deep breath and dived into the water, being careful as to not hit her head on some of the bigger rocks that lay at the bottom of the river. When she emerged from the water and looked back to the shore, she was shocked to see a tall man, decked in a leather jacket and sporting ink black hair, flipping through her sketchbook. While she was normally very friendly, this was her grandmother's land and a trespasser wasn't something that she wanted here.

"Hey!" she shouted, gaining the attention of the man on the shore, "Put that down! And get the hell out of here, this is private property!"

The man smirked, "I wasn't aware this was private property, I'm new in town and I thought a little hike through the great outdoors was needed."

"Well," she started, "This is private property, and I would appreciate it if you would kindly make your way out of here." Leslie wrung out her short, choppy black hair and made her way to the man who was still going through her sketchbook.

When she stepped out of the water and came closer to the leather-clad man, she realised he was at least five or six inches taller than her. There goes her intimidation tactic she was planning on using. She stood tall and made her facial features unreadable. When the man before her didn't move, or even put her damn book down, she got angry.

"Look, dude, I don't think you're understanding what I'm saying, so I can have the police happily show you what I'm trying to say."

The blue eyed man chuckled deeply and it sent shivers down Leslie's spine. "How will the police get here if you don't have a phone to call them on?"

Her voice got stuck in her throat. This guy was fucking insane. The girl slowly stepped back, but he insisted on following her. He flung her sketchbook into the river and she had to stop herself from getting it. This was not the time to save her struggling art career. Her back was soon against a tree, and he was blocking off all escape routes. He ran a finger down her face and looked into her eyes,

"You won't scream, and you won't fight against it."

Just as she was going to question what was happening, the man bent his neck and scraped his teeth against her neck. He then plunged sharp teeth into her neck, making her wince and erupting tears in her eyes. This was how she was going to die, wasn't it? Her eyelids fluttered and she was starting to feel faint. Before her eyes shut completely, he stopped. His head rose and she was probably a sight to be seen; she could just imagine the crimson streaks coming from her neck and staining her skin and the forest floor. Her tears probably streaked her face and her nose most likely was running.

The man groaned in seeming annoyance, rolling his eyes and bringing his wrist to his mouth and biting. He shoved his bleeding wrist into her mouth and made her drink his blood. "Calm down, little mermaid, I'm not going to kill you. We're not all leeches, you know, I have some class."

As Leslie drank, she felt herself rejuvenate with life. Was he feeding her liquid crack? No, this was definitely blood- she could taste the iron that reminded her of pennies. What the hell was this guy? He retracted his wrist and looked into her eyes once more,

"You're going to forget what just happened here. You're going to remember swimming and dropping your book into the water."

She mindlessly nodded.

"Now… run!"

And she scampered away, nearly tripping on tree roots in her frenzy. The man she left behind in the dust chuckled and went back to Leslie's sketch book that had floated its way back onto the river bank. He picked up the red book and smirked as he walked away from the scene, fun ideas running through his head. This was going to be a fun stay in Mystic Falls after all.