dance with the devil ✧ DAMON SALVATORE

chapter fifteen

"Jordan," he whispers her name carefully, afraid that if he will raise his voice she will crumble right there and then.

She shakes her head anxiously slow from left to right while she takes small steps back. "No, please, leave me alone."

He reaches out with his left hand, fingers outstretched and Kelly long forgotten, but Jordan doesn't take it. She doesn't even look at it. Instead, she turns around and runs away from his touch and words with the speed of a vampire.

Damon smashes the bottle of wine that is standing on table in the direction of the wall. The clash of glass with concrete makes a scream of fear erupt from Kelly, but Damon pays her no mind. He lost. He lost her. His heart is wrapped in thorns, dripped with a sweet and sickly poison. And with every touch and every word, the veins tighten around his heart. Although his heart no longer beats, and blood no longer rushes through his veins, everything he touches dies. If he was human, tears would be forming in his eyes, and his knees would buckle underneath his weight. But he isn't. He is a vampire with a heart of ice, and he has just frozen the only person who could melt it back to life.

A buzzing rings throughout his ears whilst he stumbles to the trolley that displays his drinks in range from old to new. Instead of pouring himself a shot of bourbon, he takes the bottle. With the bottle in his left hand he walks towards the chair in which the blanket Damon gave Jordan still lies. His index finger graces over the luxurious material before he lets himself sink into it, hoping to be consumed by the material completely. He doesn't hear Kelly leave, and he only realises Elena and Stefan have entered the living chambers when Elena speaks to him with disgust leathering her voice.

"You don't deserve Jordan. You hear me? You don't deserve her."

♛

Jordan is gasping for air when she arrives at the place she knows they will accept her. She rings the doorbell, and Jordan doesn't know how, but even the sound of the doorbell reflects wealth.

Mrs. Lockwood opens the door with a kind smile painted on her face, "Oh, Jordon! It has been so long since I've seen you. How are you holding up? Everything going alright at school."

Jordan charms a smile upon her face, but it doesn't reflect her usual twinkle in her eyes. "I've been doing okay, thanks for asking Carol. The last couple of months have been hard, but thanks to my family and friends, I've managed to survive. Do you know where Tyler is?"

Carol motions for Jordan to come inside, and when she does, Carol places her hand on her lower back. "He's in his room, and please, dear, do make yourself feel at home."

Jordan shoots Carol one last thankful smile before descending up the grandiose stairs that are littered with golden details. "I will, Carol, thank you."

Jordan knows the Lockwood estate like the back of her hand. When she was little, she almost used to spent an equal amount of time with Tyler as she did with her family, and Jordan instantly feels bad once she realises she hasn't taken it upon herself to visit Tyler even once ever since she came back from London months ago.

She opens the door, and if she hadn't just experienced the worst feeling in her life, she would have laughed. Tyler wiggled in his stool as the door opened without warning, and unable to keep his balance, he crashed – alongside with his black and beaten down office chair – to the floor.

"Mom! How many times have I told you to knock before-."

A giggle escapes Jordan's lips as Tyler realises it is not his mom standing in the frame of the door.

He lifts himself off the floor and rushes over to Jordan. "Jordan! It's so good to see you, but if you don't mind me asking, what in the world are you doing here?" Tyler's hands leave Jordan side and his face falls alongside the one of Jordan. "Hey, Jordy, what's wrong?"