Temptation (n)
1. The act of tempting; allurement
2. Something that entices you, usually not good for you.
I let out a feral growl after forcefully slamming my bedroom door shut... and there goes the hinges. I shouldn't be mad. I should be rejoicing, up to my neck in alcohol and women singing 'Living On A Prayer' in an obnoxious voice because, lets face it, I need one.
But no. Instead I'm overtired, overworked, and just so completely over it.
Klaus was defeated and believe me, it was easier said then done, but we had won about damn time too. We made it alive by the skin of our teeth and right now, mine were really itching to bite something. Because out of every-fucking-one of us, I got beat up like a pinata. Thrown around like a rag doll, staked so now I look like swiss cheese, and to top it all off the bitch had bit me.
Whatever the fuck that meant. Either ill be dead or completely okay. Im voting on okay but with my shit luck ill die within a week.
We'll find out.
The funniest thing? I sit on the foot of my bed with a sigh, contemplating the different ways I could kill myself.
Because at least when we were fighting for our lives, I was needed. My life was a monumental joke and I obviously got the shit end of the stick.
I should make my own commercial. In a crisis? Call Damon Salvatore! Crisis averted? Sweep him under the rug because he's so pathetically in love with you that he'll take it like a bitch!
Oh wait, that only works for one person.
I can hear her concerned cries from here. Her rushed 'are you okays?' and 'I love you's' that have constantly been forced down my brothers throat since he was born... and after he died.
The unkindest cut of all. Being second best to someone you would forever put first. Risking my life for her was a natural reflex at this point and the aftermath always sucked. I get staked, shot and all but killed and my baby bro makes it out clean as a slate with a loving girlfriend.
And I get a nice bottle of bourbon.
Sounds about right.
I glance down at the crease in my elbow where Klaus's teeth had bitten me. Ironic because thats the same fucking spot Tyler had bit me, you know, when I almost died? My life is one bad movie constantly stuck on replay. The wound had healed, but the burn it produced was either because I needed some damn blood or I was dying.
I'll most likely be dead within the hour.
Why was I here again? Oh, yeah. Two words, twelve letters and you have yourself the reason I go through all this damn pain. But do I need to be here? Danger is gone, all's well in Mystic Falls. Ironic. She doesn't need me though. She has everything she needs bundled in her arms right now.
All im doing is holding her back from what she really wants. What she'll always want.
Because it'll always be Stefan. How many times does she have to pound that into my head until it clicks?
So, fuck it.
Im throwing in the towel, letting the chips fall where they may, coin a phrase. Whatever. I grab my suitcase that has collected a blanket of dust over it. Sign number one that I've been here too long.
I toss my clothes inside hazardously, barely noticing what I'm grabbing. I zip it up feeling a thousand times lighter. I contemplate jumping out the window to make sure I wouldn't run in to her but hat has Stefan written all over it and suddenly I'm disgusted for even suggesting it. So, no to that plan.
I walked the stairs painfully slow, my suitcase and a bottle of bourbon in hand. I was prepared for a fate worse than death.
Because my fate was alone.
As good luck would have it, I'm staring face-to-face with two star-crossed lovers. They're wrapped in a blanket. Yeah, that sounds about right. They were both very good at covering themselves from the truth. The blind leads the blind in this relationship.
And frankly, my eyes are too pretty for that.
Elena is the first to acknowledge my presence and I say nothing. Her eyes bore into mine after flickering to the suitcase beside me.
I know what she's going to say before she says it. Its a moot point, though. My minds set.
"Damon... don't." Thats all she says. Thats all she ever has to say, my name in a condescending tone and a demand shortly after. It really gets old.
Stefan rises, noticing my suitcase but not saying a word. He wants me to go. The elephant in the room is growing bigger by the second. They know how I feel. I know they love each other. He knows how she feels. Its fifty shades of fucked up.
"Why not?" I give her the chance to convince me, because damn I want her to make me stay. To tell me something worth staying for. Her eyes flicker to Stefan and that's all the answer I need.
"Damon... Please. Don't go." I'm about to go postal. I can feel it. The stress of this ridiculous menage de trois is eating away at me. And point blank, I'm sick and tired of her vague answers.
The silence is deafening as I watch Stefan urge me with his eyes to go because he knows things will be easier for them with me out of the picture. He's most likely right, but he's my brother, his self-righteous ass doesn't know any better. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and he has no intention of changing that fact.
I lock eyes with her, she's tearing up but I tell myself to ignore it. I can't go back. How can I look at the woman I love be with someone else? But most of all, how do I tell myself its time to walk away? It isn't a choice anymore. It's a must. I can't happily stay here knowing that she will be kissing my brother, touching my brother, making love to my brother.
I'm not that much of a masochist.
"Goodbye, Elena." I give her a sharp nod in acceptance. It comes out harsher then I expected but at this point I'm one sandwich away from a picnic and one stake away from joining the land of the dead.. well.. dead-dead. I look to my brother with a mocking smirk.
"I'll be seeing you, brother." He gives me a shake of the head and I grin in return.
With my suitcase frimly in hand, I open the door and the chilly breeze of the world consumes me. It pulls me away from my worries, from her.
I hear her gentle pleas become louder and harsher for me to come back. I know Stefan's holding her back though. Because he will always hold her back from me. Every fiber in my being tells me to turn around and go to her, but I don't. I will myself to keep walking because if I don't now, I never will.
A tear slides down my cheek like a raindrop in a summers day. Because I shouldn't be crying. I walk away, leaving her behind. Along with my heart.
I'm two sheets to the wind and I can't remember what I did yesterday. My mind is numb, just like my body. Because I don't really feel anymore. Its been three weeks since my epic goodbye and I've never been more miserable. But its a lose-lose.
My head shoots up at the sound of blaring, tacky music. Surely I'm not playing that. With a groan and a glance I realize I passed out in a bar.
Me, Damon Salvatore, passed out in a damn bar. I need a fucking shower. I'm really missing my shower back at the boarding house right now. I should have kicked the love-birds out instead... I am eldest. But my stupid heart wouldn't let me do that. It's not like they miss me, anyways. Three weeks without a call or text and I'm really feeling the love right now.
But I'm the one who left, so I shouldn't be expecting calls or any kind of communication. News flash that was the whole point in leaving.
Didn't know it would suck this bad. I seriously get myself into the damndest situations. I take a look around my surroundings because honestly, where the fuck am I?
It's rusty, gross, dirty... falling apart? Just like my life and my goddamn arm. I glance down at my arm that had been previously bitten three weeks ago. It throbs and burns like a bitch and if I'm not mistaken I can see a mark his teeth had left. Ouch.
But I'm not a goner yet, so Amen to that! While having my internal meltdown I almost didn't notice the prostitute walking towards me. At least she looks like one... But you never know these days.
A plump blonde bombshell sashays her way to me. I guess that was suppose to be sexy.
"Hey, stud. You want to have a good time tonight?" I stare at her for far too long, my eyes are adjusting and my brain isn't connecting to what she's saying. I'm going fucking bananas. She twirls her bubblegum around her finger with a suggestive look in her eyes. She has too much make-up on, her clothes are two sizes too small, and she is blonde.
In other words, she's not Elena.
"No." I shoo her away with the flick of my wrist because I may have passed out in a grimy bar but I am not looking for some grimy company. I pound back another glass of scotch just to see she hadn't left. Today was certainly not my day.
"I can make it worth your while. Come on, you don't even have to pay." She purred and after dry heaving for less then a second, I hurled. Literally. I hacked about an inch away from her thigh high boots. I didn't know wether it was from the nasty smell coming off the girl or the fact that my life has gone up in flames.
I chance a glance down at my arm again and pray to whoever might be listening that I am not puking up my dignity right now because of this fucking bite.
But...
Did I really just vomit? This is a whole day of 'how can Damon Salvatore degrade himself?'. I haven't thown up since 1864 so apparently I've just hit an all time low. Or some other supernatural shit is happening to me, as usual.
A groan falls from my lips at how pathetic this is.
And then I get angry. Because when the fuck did I get so weak?
"What part of no don't you understand?" I give her a snarl, leaning on my arm to show her I mean business. I'm two seconds away from whipping out the vamp face just to make her disappear.
"The whole thing, sweets." She drawls it out with a wicked smile.
"I guess you can lead a whore to culture but can't get her to think, huh?" I give her a mocking smirk.
Something must have clicked because the scowl on her face was one of victory for me. Maybe it was my rage or maybe my throw up breath but she was thoroughly pissed. Kudos to me!
"Bite me!" She growls at me. I give her an impecable stare and then the gears start turning and this floozy is barking up the wrong tree. I give her a devilish smile, grabbing her roughly by the arm.
We're standing outside in the back of the rusty bar and she's trying to understand how the hell we got out here.
"Only because you asked so nicely." I sink my fangs into her skin in where the blood of her carated artery flows. I relish in the feeling. Its been so long since I've killed a human and it felt so damn good... even though this would not be my first choice.
I drink her life essence in until she becomes limp in my arms. Dead as a doornail. I'm about to fly off the handle because this body needs to go over to the dirt and bury itself. I do not have the physical energy for this.
After pain-stakingly taking care of the body, I finish off another bottle of scotch, stumbling to God knows where.
The cool breeze of the chilly night was suppose to sober me up but it doesn't. I feel even worse. My feet feel like cinder-blocks, and my jacket is fucking dirty. My leather jacket is dirty. I shake myself off like a dog as if that would shake off the impending doom of my life. Surely, my fate was not this. As my mother once said, there's a place for everything in this world.
She was right. There is a place for everything and everything is in its place.
Too bad my place in this world sucks. Pun intended.
The thought of my mom is stuck in my head now. Her laugh, her voice, the way she's assure my everything was going to be okay. And damn, did I believe her. She made me feel acceptable in a world that had constantly proved me unacceptable. She told me to be passionate and to do what I felt was right no matter what people may say to disspprove me. She had said breaking the rules once in a while was a needed requirement and being bad didn't always mean being wrong. Maybe that's why I'm such a nut case. God, I miss her.
Without a seconds hesitation, I'm zooming off into the night and before I know it I'm standing in front of her grave at the Mystic Falls Cemetary. Kneeling in front of my mothers headstone, I drag my hand slowly across it.
She would know what to say to me. She always did.
"Damn, I miss you." I try my hardest but my voice still cracks. Sitting here was like deja vu and suddenly I'm thrown back into 1864 when talking to my mother was my closest connection to my humanity. At least, in the beginning. However, a couple years after Katherine had turned me I'd soon avoided this place like it was the plague.
My mother was too good for somebody like me to love her.
Just like Elena.
"I don't know why I'm here. I don't know why I do a lot of things lately. But you always knew just what to say and I guess somewhere deep down I was hoping you could give me some answers. Believe me, I know how incredibly ridiculous that sounds. " I let out a dry laugh. I can't believe I used to do this regularly? I was ready to bury myself and call it a day. I'm losing myself in my thoughts, and years and years of repressed feelings.
Things I haven't said or things I should've said, things I couldn't say to anybody were leaving my mouth in a desperate and rushed tone.
"I haven't visited in a while because... I've kind of lost sight of things, I guess. I've made so many mistakes, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. But I don't know what else to do! I don't want this to be my life and I don't know how to be somebody she can love! I can't be him... But I don't want to be this! I don't want to be what I am!" I'm screaming in agony now because this is my life and I can't change it. Angry tears fall down my face, forgotten, as I yell at the world for my own mistakes. I vamp out from rage and the fact that nothing I do or say will change who I have become.
I'm taking deep breaths that rack my chest with every intake, trying to calm myself down to the best of my ability.
"I want things to be easy. I just... I want to go home. To you. But I can't because you're not here anymore and I'm not human... I'm-" I cut myself off. I can feel the tears forming in my eyes from my frustration again. The way my life has turned out to be one disasters after another was getting rather old and I was rather sick of it.
"I'm a monumental screw up. I don't deserve anyone. I know that. I do but... I love her, mom." A hardcore sob racks through me. Today was just a barrel of firsts. I run my hands through my hair, my head is pounding and I squeeze my eyes shut trying to will the pain away because holding it all back is proving harder then I thought.
I'm trying my best to hold it back again.
"You would have liked her too. She's kind of like you. Stubborn, passionate, kind. She really is something..." A sad smile forms on my face as I let myself reminisce about her because I'm already at the lowest point of low. "But she doesn't want me. She loves him. So I guess, what I've been wondering is... how do I live with that? What am I suppose to do?" Silent, angry, tears fall over my cheeks and I'm an inch away from falling over the edge completely.
Or maybe I already did.
"Because I don't know how to be around her when she's loving him... But I can't live in a world without her either." I don't know what to do, I don't even know what I feel right now. All I know is I won't be getting an answer and I won't be doing that again for a long time.
I shoot my mothers headstone a sad, defeated smile. I take a deep much needed breath after screaming, crying and breaking down for no reason. At least nobody fucking saw that. I'm looking around curiously, praying to God no one did notice it, because if they did I would have to kill them.
The silence hurts more and more, as though I was expecting some kind of reply. At least an epiphany would be nice. I do feel lighter though, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Probably all that emotional baggage I've been carrying around for 145 years. I look down just to notice I'm thoroughly soaked and probably look like a drowned cat. Fucking perfect.
I brush myself off because I've been sitting in a puddle of mud. My legs are covered in mud... I give an exasperated sigh, looking up in to the sky damning whoever has made my life such a joke.
Can't a guy catch a break?
Ok so this isn't exactly one of my most favorite things Ive written but... I've had it written for a while so I figured why not give it a go! Actually, I'm about to start working on another story because I'm feeling really inspired! Yay! :) But I will update again for this story, but it all depends on the feedback I get because I'm kind of iffy about it :p
I wrote this story because I love writing in Damons POV and I thought it would be nice for him to walk away because lets face it, Damon deserves more than how he's usually treated. So then I figured lets give him a scene in the bar to show how out of character he is without Elena because seriously.. Damon Salvatore does not throw up ;) I thought the scene with his mother would be sweet and nostalgic!
But, anyways, Im rambling! Tell me what you think about the Klaus bite? What do you think it means for Damon? ;) Did you notice all the weird things that seem to be happening to Damon?
And I know there are no DE scenes in this chappie but next chapter I'll give you some Delena love!
Thank you!
Till then... xox Kerri!