January 1st, 1958. 1 am
Elena held her clutch against her chest, attempting to let the cold January air sober her up before she returned home, plus the walk was nice, refreshing. Her hair was up and pinned tightly to her head, her lips red, and pearls resting against her clavicle. Her dress was t-length with a tight waist and a sweet heart neckline. The black lace sleeves reached black gloves. Her red heels clicked against the brick street. She exhaled, her breath forming a cloud around her.
She looked down to grab her cigarette from her bag and when she looked back up a man stood in the middle of the road in front of her. "Hello?" She called out.
The man was dirty, bare foot, blood covering his mouth and falling down the front of him. And even in the darkness she could see his blue eyes almost glowing from the moon and fireworks that exploded around them.
He tilted his head to the side. "Katherine." He breathed, his voice barely audible from where she stood.
She took a step toward him, touching her chest. "I'm sorry, I'm… I'm Elena." Her chocolate eyes searched his. He walked toward her, as if he didn't believe her. She stood very still, watching him. "Are you alright?" Elena asked softly as his fingers slid under her necklace, touching her pulse. A chill ran up Elena's spine at his touch, and she couldn't place why.
He frowned then mumbled, "Human."
Elena blinked and swallowed hard. "Sir?"
The man blinked and looked at her. "Who are you." He demanded.
"I already told you.. my name is Elena."
He closed his eyes, his fists balled. He was clearly in some sort of pain or distress. And Elena was a nurse, she hated seeing people like this. She reached her hand out to him, touching his cheek.
He tensed under her touch.
"Are you alright?" She asked softly. "What happened? You're covered in blood…"
He looked at her, as though she was the first person in his life to ask him how he was, like she was the first one to ever care for him. He swallowed and scowled. His eyes were distant, but she could see something deeper with in them. "Will you at least tell me your name?" She asked searching his eyes. "I'm a good listener."
"Damon." He grunted and grabbed her face. "Forget me." He compelled.
Elena shook her head. "No can do, Damon."
He frowned, unsure of how she managed to resist his compulsion. "Why?"
"Because when I see someone in trouble I have to help them."
Damon looked at her, wanting to feed on her, she looked like Katherine and he didn't know why, she was human. Innocent. And she reminded him of pain. He held her face in his hands searching her eyes. "I am trouble. You should help yourself."
Elena's heart was racing, there was something about this man. "Come back to my home. Let me clean you up. You are about my husbands size, I can get you some clothes." She said her voice quiet.
Damon looked at his clothes, they didn't bother him much but she was right, he could use a warm bath. "He won't mind?"
"I don't believe he will." Elena said looking down before glancing back up with a smile. "Come on, I need to asses your injuries."
Damon sat on the toilet in Elena's bathroom, watching her as she wiped blood off his mouth. "What exactly happened to you?"
Damon shrugged. "It was a party."
"Some party, you look like you've been kept in a dungeon." She said dipping the washcloth into the warm water again.
Damon smirked slightly at the sound of that, watching her neck pulse with her heartbeat. His own heartbeat speeding up the moment her bare fingers brushed his neck.
"I'll need you to take off your shirt." She said, sounding very much like she did in the hospital. She stood.
Damon eyed her, wondering what exactly she was trying to accomplish. "Do you always undress men off the streets when your husband isn't home."
Elena leaned against her floral wall papered walls and sighed. "He is dead."
Damon's eyebrows came together.
"He fought in Vietnam. He was drafted and he was killed." Elena said quickly. "Shirt, off." She said pointing to him.
Damon took his shirt off, and he watched her eyes examine him.
"You seem fine." She said her voice thick with confusion.
"As do you, for your husband dying."
"It's a new year." She said. "It is time to start over." She turned away and started a bath for him. "Here, wash up and I'll leave some clothes out for you." She turned and walked out of the bathroom, and just like that Damon was left alone.
He looked at his dirty face in the mirror, this woman who resembled so closely his sweet Katherine, was certainly not her. But just as appealing, and she had no one, she was alone in this big home. Something about that excited him as he slid out of his clothes and sunk into the warm water.
He thought about her for a moment but he felt a pang in his chest, he was attracted to her. She was gentle and sweet, and that was the moment he knew he would kill her. Because if he didn't there was a chance that he could feel something for her, and if he admitted to that then he would have to admit how he left Enzo for dead, and that would be too damn hard. So he got out of the bath and dried off, pulling the pants on that she had left him and the button up shirt, not bothering to button it. He showed up at her bedroom, she was in her slip, it was white and silk, lace covering her breasts.
He stopped in his tracks when she turned to look at him. Her hair was spilling down her back, and her face was innocent. She was taken aback by his presence. "You should shut your door." He said harshly.
"I'm not used to company." Her voice was unfazed.
There was something about her. She was strong, and brave. And she was beautiful.
She grabbed her robe and covered herself with it, tying the belt around her waist, closing herself off to him. She sat on the end of her bed. He walked to her and sat next to her. "You let a complete stranger into your home, into your bed room." He commented, his voice seductive. "I could hurt you."
"Nothing else can happen to me, Damon." She said not looking at him, before turning and facing him. "Besides, I don't believe you would hurt me."
Damon scoffed.
"You called me Katherine." Elena explained.
"So?"
"You obviously love her. I saw the way you looked at me, Damon. You aren't someone who hurts people." She said surely.
Damon made a face, and ran his fingers through his wet hair. "You don't know anything, Elena." His voice caught a bit on her name. "You're just lonely."
"Maybe." Elena admitted.
"You shouldn't be so trusting." He said sharply.
"Probably." Elena agreed. "But unfortunately we can try all we want to push our bad habits away, but we can never truly change who we are at our core, can we?"
Damon was quiet for a moment, his blue eyes staring holes into the wall in front of him, he knew she was right, and he hated it. He turned and grabbed her face hard, turning it away, exposing her neck.
"What are you doing?" She asked wincing a bit.
"Trying not to care." He admitted softly.
"Why?"
"I can't take the pain." He whispered. "There is only so much pain a man can take."
Elena was suddenly nervous, and she swallowed hard. "What are you going to do to me?"
Damon let his face transform, his eyes grew veins around them and his fangs slipped out from his gums. He let her look at him, and smiled as she gasped.
She reached out and touched his face. "What are you?"
"I'm a vampire." He growled low in his chest.
She stared at him for a beat, in complete silence, only the sound of their heavy breathing filling the room. "Is this supposed to scare me?" Elena asked quietly, standing.
"Doesn't it?" He said harshly standing with her.
Elena shook her head. "No."
"It should." Damon growled, grabbing her throat with his hands aggressively.
"Don't do this." She whispered before her scream cut through the quiet air.
