Title: Transcendence
Rating: K+
Summary: He would sacrifice every living soul for hers. He just wanted her back to make sense of the world.
Pairing: Damon/Rose
Warning: Currently crying, and thinking about an ex who absolutely does not need to be on my mind. So forgive the morbidity.
"Why me?"
He hates the look of pity in the teen's eye, but he can't feed, can't sleep, can't function. He has to know, needs to know. Why warn him, save him, help him. Why hold him, comfort him and care for him. Why be his rock, his conscience, his ally without expecting some sort of return payment. Why share his bed, caress his body and invade his thoughts.
Why could you see me like no one else. Why did you have to force your way in. Why was I so important to you when my own father shot me dead. Why did you come here, into this place, what was left of my heart only to leave. Why give me hope, short lived and all consuming. Why provide the question without an answer.
Why love me. Why hold these pieces, this broken man with such reverence. Why, when I was never good enough. Why did you not care, loved because not in spite of all the tar that marred my flesh. Why were you so devastatingly imperfect, the personification of beauty; undeniably scarred and utterly flawless.
Why did you feel like porcelain and spun silk. Why did your eyes shine like diamonds dripped in molten gold, even as they bled. Why did your tears tastes like salvation and your lips like home. Why were you everything. Why would you come to me, change me, make me over and leave me here with them. Why subject me to the torture. Why will they never know, never see, never caress like you. Why do they get to stay.
He didn't even really know what he was asking really. All of the above maybe, or none. Maybe it wasn't about light and goodness, and the scent of lavender across her skin. Maybe it was madness in the pitch black of night. No not night, life. The eerie darkness that had become his life; his soul as told by others. Too black, how could she not see… oh but she did. Maybe it was the musk of his failure filtered through her arousal. Maybe it was the contrast of his alabaster skin against her auburn locks. Maybe it was him, as told by her, through her. The background melody to a delicious nightmare. His story, her words.
"You were real. After five hundred years of things not being what they seemed, she wasn't about to turn her back on the last piece of truth the world had to offer… how could she not choose you"
She's still choosing him, always choosing him. Even though it was too late for them she stays after Jeremy leaves. He can feel her in the darkness. Or maybe in the small light that remains. Rose