"You're my world, you're every breath I take
You're my world, you're every move I make
Other eyes see the stars up in the skies
But for me they shine within your eyes."
~ You're my world//Cilla Black
DAMON'S POV
It was early morning when I trudged into the Forbes house, startling the blonde in the foyer. Hand on her heart, she huffed out my name which sounded like a cuss from her mouth.
"Geez, my sister didn't have to pull the devil out of hell to be our chauffeur," Caroline cheekily commented.
"Don't flatter yourself, blondie. Your mother called me." I blurted out, regretting my tone as she whipped past me. "Wait."
Pressing my thumb and index finger against my forehead, I tried to ease the tension before turning around. Caroline stood with her arms crossed, wearing her signature scowl reserved only for me.
"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but..." the weight of my words lay heavy on my tongue. "I truly am sorry for hurting you like that. If I could change the past, I would."
Caroline blinked, the hostility in her eyes morphing into utter shock. Her gaze searched my face as if waiting for me to burst out laughing. I stood frozen, eyes cast downward in shame.
"I, uh, don't know what to say," she chuckled disbelievingly. "And it's weird because I had a whole speech ready."
"That's okay," assured I. "I'm not expecting anything from you. I just wanted you to know I meant every word."
"I do want to believe you, Damon," she said my name tenderly this time. "But words don't matter, actions do. So if you want my forgiveness, you have to work for it. And that means more than helping my sister make your brother jealous."
I simply nodded in understanding. I didn't blame her. I wouldn't trust myself either.
"You're here. Good." Sheriff Forbes descended the stairs, with her elder daughter trailing behind. "Caroline, give us a minute, please."
The blonde obeyed her request, disappearing into the kitchen while Serena eyed us both, her lids barely open to deconstruct the scenario unfolding in front of her.
"When did you two start being friends again?" she confusedly asked.
"We didn't." Liz was quick to rebut, making me cringe internally. "This is about John,"
The Sheriff could barely look at me. She avoided my presence like the plague, except for council meetings where we showed a united front against John. I'd assumed it was about that.
"He believes that the vampire you rescued from the tomb, Pearl, stole an artifact from Jonathan Senior back in 1864."
Serena's perfectly manicured brows knitted. "Pearl's still in town?"
"Yep," I popped the p. "And pushing very hard to recover her former apothecary, a.k.a Grayson Gilbert's clinic. Gotta give her credit, woman knows how to hustle."
A string of curses erupted from the brunette's mouth. I suppressed a smirk, aware that her frustration remained hidden from her mother's ears.
"Damon can talk to Anna," Serena suggested, offering me up as a sacrificial lamb. "From what I've heard, they're trying to fit in. So they'll make an appearance at the pageant today."
"Good," Liz remarked. "Keep it low profile. John already doesn't trust me, and if he catches a whiff that I've spilled his secrets, it's over,"
"Why are you... spilling his secrets?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"Because whatever it is, John's planning to use it at the Founder's Day parade. And as much as I'd love to get rid of you," she flashed me a fake smile, quickly glancing at her daughter. "There'd be men, women, and children. Mine included. Most on the council don't care about repercussions, I do."
Would this be a bad time to inform Serena about my brother's extracurricular activities?
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
SERENA'S POV
The ticking of the wall clock echoed through the dressing room, constantly reminding me of the limited time frame I had until Carol Lockwood barged in to collect me for the pageant.
I was barely ready too. Clad in a white robe with my face bare. The decision to summon him here had been an impromptu one.
"I know about the blood, Stefan."
Silence stretched between us, oppressive in the way it allowed him to stare me down with guarded eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles turning a harrowing tinge of pale. He was measuring his words, what lies to sputter when.
"The blood? I'm fine. The blood doesn't change anything."
"It's changing you," my tone was reminiscent of one used with a child who knew they had fucked up. "Making you aggressive, making you lie to the people you love."
"He told you that too?" derided he, running a calloused hand through his perfectly gelled locks. "What? You believe Damon over me?"
"Damon doesn't have to tell me jack. I have eyes!" I exclaimed, quickly containing my voice. "I know it's hard to fight it, to pull back from something that has consumed you for years. But you have to let us help you, Stef."
"So, that's how it's going to be, huh? You don't trust me anymore," he spat, his tone laced with hurt. "I thought you believed in me, Serena."
He looked crestfallen, his puppy dog eyes pleading for understanding before he turned to leave. I realized there and then this wasn't a fight I was poised for.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The queue upstairs was filled with participants in beautiful silk, chiffon, and lace dresses. A soft melody wafted through the hall. Its volume had been adjusted carefully to avoid overpowering the Mayor's voice as he announced my sister.
Caroline glided down the stairs with a swanlike elegance I could only pray I had. A smile crept across my face. She had fretted about winning without even realizing there was never a competition.
Next to be announced, Elena had retreated to the sidelines.
Her hands fidgeted on her sides, grasping and ungrasping the satin fabric of her dark blue gown. Slipping my hand into hers, I found them sweaty with unease.
"I shouldn't be here. I'm not this person anymore," confessed Elena, a slight tremor rocking her voice.
"You aren't," I agreed softly, drawing little circles onto the palm of her hand until the erraticness in her breathing died down. "And it's completely okay if you're having the urge to bolt out the door right now. But you're doing this to honor your mother, right?"
She nodded.
"And she'd be so proud of you!" Bonnie chimed in cheerfully, reaching for the girl's other hand. She wore a marigold yellow dress that makes her look oh so fucking ethereal. "You two look so beautiful!"
"Says you!" Lena threw her arms around us, squeezing us both into her embrace. We reciprocated it before giving her a little cheer as her name is announced.
And for a moment, we were transported back to Elena's bedroom in makeshift tin foil dresses and our mothers' heels that were way too big for us. The door was slightly ajar as our parents peered in. Little Jeremy toddled in with chubby legs, ready to join in the fun.
(Lena had then proceeded to pick him up and throw him out of the room because he chewed the shit out of her tiara.)
"Miss Serena Cassandra Forbes with her escort Mister Damon Salvatore,"
As I rounded the curve of the grand staircase, all eyes veered upwards to catch a glimpse of me. There was no voice to be heard, only the clicking of my heels as I continued my descent.
Among the sea of upturned faces, My mother's eyes shimmered with unshed emotion. A grin lit up Carol's face. Only if the poor woman had her memories, she wouldn't be looking at me like she'd hit the jackpot.
From the far right corner where the escorts swarmed, Jamie—no—Jeffrey Hamilton leered, his tongue moistening his bottom lip. Normally, I would've thrown hands, had someone else not stolen my attention.
Damon Salvatore was staring at me.
Not lecherously. Not with a sex joke playing on his lips. But frozen in spot, his lips parted, just looking and looking.
I had on this vintage merlot gown Care and I stumbled upon at a thrift store. The back was held together by velvet strings, revealing a tantalizing amount of skin that teetered on borderline risqué. I'd opted for a messy bun and a nude lip—the Pamela Anderson kind.
I hadn't felt sexier and I would be lying if I said my chest didn't swell with pride for coaxing the reaction out of him.
Enzo nudged his fellow escort back to reality, slipping a little wink in my direction. I suppressed a giggle, taking Damon's arm as he offered it.
By the time we made it outside, a faint thrum of anxiety began to beat against my ribcage. The velvet gown I wore suddenly felt ten times heavier, though its open back offered some relief from the Virginian heat.
Elena stood close by but with Tyler instead of Stefan, which left me panicking.
"Where's your brother?" I asked Damon who shook his head.
"I don't know, but right now, we have to get through this. Just you and me, remember?" his soft reassurance was barely audible over the sound of my heartbeat echoing in my ears.
"Just us."
Our eyes locked once again, and the world around us faded into the background. It was impossible to divert my gaze when those piercing blue eyes worked relentlessly to draw me into their depths.
We began the dance the way that Carol taught us. But this time, it was more than a choreographed routine. There was an intimacy in the way our bodies moved, synced with vulnerability.
Damon's hand slipped into mine, the icy touch sending a shiver up my spine. His other arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, while mine found a resting place on his shoulder. Taking the lead, he guided our steps with confidence that was reassuring.
"You're good at this," I pointed out unsurprised.
The vampire smirked. "I've only had 150 years to perfect it, but you should give yourself more credit, Princess."
A blush crept across my cheeks, betraying the rush of emotions surging within me.
As much as I hated it, there was a sense of security in the way he held me. Delicately, as if I were something precious and fragile. He was a paradox. I found myself wanting to surrender control when he was near, but the awareness that it could lead to regret stayed.
After all, Damon Salvatore's only threat was Damon himself.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The town embraced the crisp night with open arms. Caroline ended up winning the title, her triumph celebrated by the applause of the crowd. As much as I wanted to say, "I told you so," I resisted the urge, knowing that there were more pressing matters at hand.
Damon suddenly pulled me away from the celebratory scene to where Elena and Bonnie stood waiting outside, their faces etched with worry.
My brows furrowed, their concern reflecting on my face. "What's wrong?"
"There are signs of a struggle in the upstairs bathroom, and one of the contestants is missing," he replied somberly.
"Amber," I confirmed, dread settling in the pit of my stomach. "But I thought she left due to her anxiety?"
Their expressions remained grave, confirming the gravity of the situation. Oh, we were so fucked.
Suddenly, a piercing scream erupted from the direction of the woods. I recognized the voice immediately, my legs taking off with the others.
The pain in my feet flared up from running, forcing me to halt and remove my heels midway. "Screw this," I muttered, sprinting faster.
When I caught up to the others, fear gripped me like never before.
Stefan drank from Amber with an animalistic ferocity. I had witnessed this scene before, so I knew where this was going. If he wasn't stopped, he'd feed until her limbs fell off, one by one.
"Stefan, come on. You can do this. Breathe, man," Damon urged, slowly inching closer to him.
A scream escaped Elena's lips as Stefan hurled him against a tree. Bonnie chanted under her breath, making the younger vampire clutch his head in pain. He attempted to resist until his eyes locked onto me, guilt and disappointment flickering there.
He hastily tried to wipe away the blood staining his lips.
Amidst the commotion, Amber had collapsed to the ground, her neck gushing with blood. Acting swiftly, I took off my sweater and applied it to the wound, exerting pressure. "Damon, I need your blood!"
In an instant, Damon was at my side, sinking his teeth into his wrist. He guided his bleeding wrist toward Amber's mouth, and I turned to Stefan.
"It's alright, Stefan. You both will be okay," I attempted to convince myself as much as him.
He sped off in the opposite direction. I tried to call out to him, only to be cut off by Elena. "Let him go. Can't you see that this is all because of you?"
"You don't mean that, Elena," Bonnie gave her a disapproving look.
"Because of me?!" I almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her words. Then her accusation sunk in. "That's not fucking fair, Elena."
"You're right, it isn't. But it's the truth," she stood her ground before pivoting around and departing, leaving us speechless.
Addressing the remaining two, I mustered strength in my voice. "We need to clean up this mess before anyone realizes what happened."
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Stefan sought refuge in the solitude of the widow's walk in his room. My attempts to approach were answered by a flurry of verbal outbursts. Words poured from his lips like a dagger aimed to wound.
He screamed and shouted, demanding that I leave. Then sank back against the brick wall when he realized I wasn't budging.
He pulled his legs to his chest, burying his head between his knees. "I don't know what's happening to me," a muffled sob burst from his lips, causing his entire frame to tremble.
My heart ached for him.
What could I possibly say to offer assurance? How could I promise that everything would be alright when we both knew the road ahead would be rocky? Should I say "I'm sorry this happened to you?" or "I'm sorry for pushing human blood on you?"
So, I quietly settled beside him on the cold concrete, gently caressing his hair. It was a way of letting him know I was there for him, even if I sucked at choosing the right words.
Stefan sighed softly at the gesture, his frame gradually relaxing. We shared the silence for a long minute, my eyes drifting upwards to the constant witness of our exchanges.
In a way, the moon reminded me of the vampire sitting beside me. It was beautiful and so full of light for others who needed it, yet forever accompanied by darkness.
"You looked beautiful today," He murmured, prompting my gaze to him. Still curled up, he watched me with vulnerable eyes. "Not that I don't find you beautiful with a busted lip or dark circles."
I chuckled at the innocent fear in his voice. "I wanted to dance with you."
"You still can."
That's how we found ourselves five minutes later. Wrapped up in each other's embrace as we lazily swayed to Cilla Black's "You're My World," in the comfort of our pajamas.
Stefan rested his head on my shoulder.
And for a fleeting moment, I allowed the moonlit room to be our sanctuary—a place where the world ceased to exist; where the burdens and turmoil he wrestled with were drowned out by the melody playing on the vinyl.
But somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered the other reason I was there.
My hand slowly reached into my pocket, fingers enclosing the vervain dart. My breathing quickened, hoping he wouldn't notice. If he did, he would think it was because of our proximity.
"You make it hard not to love you, you know," his words froze me in place. "And I do. I love you."
Oh God, not like this. Please, don't do this to me now.
"I've been alive for 162 years, and I've never loved anyone quite like this. It terrifies me."
"Me too," my lips trembled as I whispered. "I'm so sorry, Stef. I wish it didn't have to happen like this."
I swiftly jammed the dart into his neck. He slumped against me with a groan, his weight pressing heavily upon me. That's when I called for Damon.
Sleep eluded me that night. Anxiety swelled within my chest, snowballing into an overwhelming sensation. Stefan's words echoed in my ears, over and over like a broken record stuck on repeat.
He had confessed finally. I got everything I wanted, yet the weight of his admission left me torn. I didn't know whether to giggle like the schoolgirl I should feel like or weep until my eyes ran dry.
I found myself physically incapable of either.
It must've been way past 2 in the morning when I tossed off my blanket to wander through the hallway. Damon had set me up in one of the guest rooms. I couldn't go home after everything.
It was a rational decision on Damon's behalf. Stefan had spiraled out of control. I kept convincing myself that whatever we did today was for his own good. Why, then, did guilt claw at my conscience?
DAMON'S POV:
The flickering flames in the fireplace emanated a warm glow, casting dancing shadows across the parlor. They illuminated the room just enough for my heightened vision to inspect the music box in my hand.
Having been one of Jonathan Gilbert's peculiar inventions, it was stolen by Pearl before he could put it to use.
Wasn't like he created any less havoc without it.
The sound of wood creaking reached my ears, accompanied by a quickened heartbeat. "Having trouble sleeping?" I inquired gently as I observed her fatigued appearance.
She nodded silently. Her eyes flickered to the artifact in my hand which piqued her curiosity. "Is that...?"
"Yeah. Pearl gave it to me as a gesture of goodwill. I suggested they buy a welcome mat," I replied, a faint trace of humor tugging at my lips.
"Oh, joy. Two more vampires," she remarked, feigning enthusiasm. "So, what does it do? Decapitate vampires?"
"Nah, doubt that," I chuckled lightly, the sound escaping me effortlessly. "But whatever its purpose may be, it's a concern for tomorrow." Placing the music box on the table, I patted the space beside me. "C'mere."
Serena took a seat beside me, scooching closer. I enclosed her in my arms, resting my head upon hers. We settled into a comfortable position, my fingertips tracing soothing patterns up and down the side of her left arm.
"Damon, did I do this to him?" she voiced her concern.
"Of course not," My response came swiftly. "Whatever Elena said... those were just words fueled by the heat of the moment. Don't bother your pretty head with thoughts like that."
"When was the last time you felt happy, like genuinely happy?" A touch of longing filled her sleepy voice.
My mind wandered through the memories of my long existence. Fragmented recollections emerged—an moment in '42, before the Augustine, and a fleeting reunion with my brother in '94. However, the happiness I had experienced did not endure, slipping away all too quickly.
"I wish I could hold onto happiness, just for once."
"You will," said I, only to realize she had fallen asleep. I took a moment to admire how peaceful she looked like this, in my arms.
A pang of unease settled deep within me. I was delving into waters too profound for my nature.
Trust was not a realm where I thrived. She was hoping I'd turn into a good guy. Hope, I knew, could be a dangerous thing, setting the stage for disappointment and heartache. And that territory, I was familiar with.