'I remember the day you told me you needed me and the next day, i woke up and you were gone. I have always wondered why.'
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Micah Underwood and Damon Salvatore were together for five years before Da...
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『26 Salvatore Boarding House, Mystic Falls, Virginia JUNE 10TH 2011
DEAR DAMON
I am tired of writing yearly journals of my life. I thought by now, something interesting would happen, but I guess not. Sometimes, it's better to hate you. It would have made things easier if we never met.
Before I read your letter again, I used to think the worst about you. That you hated who I was, and you wanted someone better. I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner. I hate that you didn't think I was strong enough to fight for you— For the both of us. I can't forget that, but I forgive you.
It's been a long couple of months. The supernatural idiots did not get the hint that I'm retiring. I can't catch a moment's break without someone trying to get my head on a silver platter or a spike.
From lower gods to vampires to demons, to sirens.
It's a long list. Now add angels to that list.
I am getting too old for this.
I have this dream where I visit so many universes. I joined culinary schools so I could learn how to bake and cook cultural food. As any retired Grimm on a new semi-mission. I made a to-do list and one of them was to bungee jump.
It couldn't be as scary as it sounds,
DAMON!
It's as scary as it sounds. I peed a little.
For someone who was trained to hunt all his life, I was bested by bungee jumping. The entire ride down, I screamed until I fainted.
Embarrassing!
That's not all.
My cousin and I visited Titan a few days after bungee jumping. Let me tell you, by Numen's stars, everything was more evolved than on Earth. Titan is analogous to Earth. It flourishes in ways Earth does not.
I also visited a local village following a lead and the chef prepared cabbage stew and rice. He said he would teach me how to cook it.
Let me tell you.
It was spicy. I thought I was going to die, but my stupid cousin, Adam was crying and panting and begging for milk. One thing the food reminded me of, was how spicy you are and how you were always determined to get your way.
The Organisation called for me after my little break. They wished to give me one final mission as a conclusive bang to my years in service.
They gave me a case in Cyrsae. A group of supernatural terrorists had plans to destroy their sister world; Titan. They seemed determined for a hostile takeover. It was my job to expunge the threat but, In the end, the information was false.
I already gave The Organisation my two weeks' notice, so they were aware of my permanent departure. When I walked into the building for the final time, They surprised me with a farewell party thrown in my honor.
I did cry a little, but I had fun. I allowed myself to get drunk, and let loose because once I walked out that door, I would never return.
The last few weeks had me obsessed with the truth. I kept a promise to myself that I would enjoy the profits of my life. I know my fate, so I have to ensure that it's not a boring one.
Would now be a good time to complain about my chef at culinary school? He's harsh, but his methods are useful. Honest to Numens, he told me I was pathetic and I should kill myself. Is this how they teach?
I know it's so little compared to the training I endured at Dark Universe and The Organization, but it still stings. Training to be a chef was harder than being a Grimm and burning criminals to the fucking ground.
One thing I succeeded in baking was a triple-layer chocolate fountain cake. Although it took several days without sleep. Watching and reading many tips on baking a successful triple-layer cake. On top of seeking several pieces of advice, I would say I succeeded. . . That was until the little demon destroyed it in a matter of seconds.
I left the kitchen for a moment to grab milk from the deep freezer, and when I returned, the cake was all over the place. As though it exploded. The little demon had the nerve to look at me and say, 'Oh, oh. I made a boom-boom'
Ugh if she wasn't a child, I would drop-kick her back to hell and leave her there. I have to remind myself, she's only three years old. The Organisation should have spent less time keeping her as a fetus and worried about her growth.
But, on the news about the cake.
I had to start again from scratch. SIGH I most definitely think you would be proud of me. You've always rushed me to follow my dreams.
Now, I am.
I did well in my assignment, by the way. For the first time, the chef gave me a nod. That's getting somewhere. This time, I made sure the cake was in the deep walk-in freezer. Now, I can sleep knowing somehow the tides are changing.
