4Hello everyone :D I got a little niggling feeling and had to write this little oneshot.
This is basically my way of trying to explain Damon's motives for the incredibly famous scene in 1x03 where, while Stefan does his miserable, brooding and self righteous voice over (eloquently revealing his soul with many adjectives) says something along the lines of Damon being a monster and having no humanity left. Meanwhile, Damon is in Stefan's girlfriend's bedroom.
Stefan, would you like some ice for that burn? :P
If I owned TVD, rest assured that Delena would have got it together a lonnnngg time ago.
He would be lying if he said he didn't know why he was here.
He refused to admit it to himself anyway.
Admitting that would start a train of thoughts which would lead him down a path he'd made a point of not following for the past hundred years – except when he got totally drunk.
He was going to get Katherine back, and that was enough.
Yet, here he was, standing here, like an idiot. At night in, in the bedroom of a girl he'd barely met; the fact that it really wasn't what you'd think only made it more pathetic.
It really wasn't going to help anything at all…but he hadn't been able to help himself.
The girl was peaceful asleep, and he wondered what she was dreaming. A shaft of moonlight, breaking through where she'd not closed the curtains properly, illuminated the room dimly. Not that he needed much to see by. Her hair fanned out over her pillow, and, as her chest rose and fell, he studied her face.
The resemblance was more than uncanny…it was supernatural.
The corner of his mouth twitched. But he was feeling way too pensive to actually be amused.
If he'd given a crap about that sort of thing, it might have passed through his mind that what he was doing was, essentially, creepy stalking. Not that sneaking into young girl's bedrooms was even remotely bad enough to make the extensive list of his sins as a century old undead Lothario.
But, since he didn't give a crap about that sort of thing, the thought didn't occur to him anyway.
For once, not because he didn't care, but because he was too busy thinking about other things. Memories which, though they constantly pressed at the corners of his mind, he avoided for the simple reason that revisiting them tended to only make him seriously pissed off.
He reached out a hand, and gently brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers, eyes narrowed in thought.
She was identical in every way. Almost.
Her hair was straight, and expression on her face was nothing that he'd ever seen on Katherine. It was too…too innocent. He knew that when she was awake, her eyes would be young and smiling, and she would be someone he didn't know; whereas he had known Katherine.
Hadn't he.
Yet even in sleep, something about her, other than her features, as slightly disarming. It wasn't something he could put his finger on.
For a moment, he could almost pretend. Almost, but not quite.
He pulled back his hand.
To snap himself out of all these pitiful contemplations, he was going to have to get seriously off his face. Which would take at least a whole bottle of whiskey, and the best part of what was left of the evening.
Sometimes, being a vampire really sucked.