AN: Hey everyone. Having a bad string of days so I decided to write a bit. Kinds been watching everything Ian Somerhalder has ever been in. Him in "Tell Me You Love Me"?...Whoa. Just whoa. That ass. Anyway, I forgot to put that the previous chapter was a prologue, hence the length, then again this one is not too long either. Takes place during in the beginning of Season 2 after the episode where Katherine tells Damon she never loved him and Elena accidentally doing the same thing. So yeah. Let me know what you think. -B
Three Days Earlier…
All the ice had melted in the glass, causing his alcohol to become slightly watered down. He didn't care though. He didn't care about much anymore. Their words just floated in his head.
"It's always been Stefan."
"I never loved you."
Sorry my ass. Neither were truly sorry, especially not that bitch Katherine. She just used him for his body. Elena just used him for his loyalty. Both were toxic to him. He no longer felt anger. All his anger was released when he snapped Jeremy's neck. No, he wasn't angry anymore.
He was disappointed. Disappointed in himself. He was yet again fooled by those brunette bitches. They were more alike than anymore cared to admit.
It was no longer his place to care.
Downing the last bit of the amber liquid, Damon chucked the glass into the fire, adding it to the collection of glass that flanked the fireplace. He plodded up the stairs to him room, sitting on his bed, just staring out the window to the sky that was becoming lighter as the sun rose. Cocking his head to the side, he rubbed the ring that had occupied his hand for so long it had become part of him.
It would be so easy.
He could just slip it off and stay seated. It would be his choice to die a final death, unlike the choice that was ripped from him by Stefan in 1864.
At the same time, doing such a thing would give that bitch Katherine way too much satisfaction. Elena should not even factor into his decision.
She was just a blip on his radar.
A human that he could easily just drain then leave in an unmarked grave.
He cared nothing for her. Nothing for her deep eyes or her clumsy way of things. No, nothing. Not anymore. He was done being second best to his perfect little brother.
Damon wasted no time packing two bags. Enough clothes for ten days. A few books. Gone With The Wind. The Historian. A few fantasy novels he had yet to delve into. A journal he had yet to pop with his pen. He included his barely used iPod and charger along with a few other essentials. Grabbing his pillows, he took one last glace around before utilizing his vampire speed to get to his beloved car. No time to second guess himself.
His life in Mystic Falls has come to an end, at least for now.
The Queen's Demon
Damon had been on the road North for a few hours when that familiar hungry feeling hit him. He hadn't packed any blood bags and he wasn't too keen on Stefan's bunny diet, mostly because he loved animals quite a bit more than humans, but he was too much of a badass to say so, therefore he was left with the old fashioned way of alleviating that oh so glorious itch.
He was somewhere in Delaware when Damon spotted a 24-hour diner. Joe's Pie Shack. How quaint. Pulling next to a beat up station wagon, he extricated himself from his car, stretching his legs, arms, neck and back. He needed to get his circulation going after the long drive. The blinding lights of the diner brought forth a small feeling of nausea. He was hit with the smell of bad coffee and fresh bread.
"Seat yourself, honey."
An elderly woman handed him a menu upon walking in before disappearing behind double doors. He checked out the place. A couple in their early thirties sat beside each other at the counter. The booths were mostly empty, save for a woman writing furiously on a laptop and a rowdy group of early twenty-something girls all wearing Delaware State gear. He was making his way to the lone woman when one of the rowdy girls from Delaware State called to him.
"Hey cutie! Come here. We're having a debate!" Her voice slurred. Obviously still drunk from whatever she had been doing earlier that night. Her makeup was mostly intact, eyeliner smudged a bit probably from laughing too hard. She was a brunette with brown eyes. All her female friends almost had the same hair color as if they all used the same box of hair dye.
When he was level with their table, Damon flashed his signature smirk.
"Oh really? I love debates. Arguing is one of my favorite pastimes, only behind fucking and reading."
The loud girl giggled.
"Oh I like you."
"So, what are we discussing?" Damon slide his way into the booth next to her.
"How we want to die. Mattie here wants to go in her sleep when she's old while I think it would be way more awesome to go quick and young."