Force of Gravity • NM

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A/N

Well...i am new to all this writing an fanfiction or anything at all, but thank you for all your love and support. I don't have any complete ideas on how the story should proceed so please leave me suggestions!!

and until then...lets just dive into Naira's childhood with the Salvatore brothers.

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Later, at Damon's House

Damon's home was spacious but felt empty, like him. He led Naira inside, watching as she looked around with wide eyes. Everything fascinated her-the way the light played across the walls, the paintings hanging crookedly, and the dusty furniture that had seen better days.

"Do you want something to eat?" he offered, trying to remember the last time he had to care for anyone other than himself.

She nodded, her eyes sparkling at the prospect of food. As he prepared a simple sandwich, he watched her from the corner of his eye. She moved around the living room, touching everything with a gentle curiosity, finding joy in even the smallest details.

"Here," he said, handing her the sandwich. She took it carefully, her little hands trembling slightly as she bit into it. Damon felt an unexpected warmth spread through him as he watched her.

"Thank you," she said, her voice muffled by the bread.

"Anytime, kid," he replied, feeling the corners of his mouth twitch into a grin.

After dinner, as the evening deepened, Damon led Naira to a cozy bedroom, far from the chaos of the world outside. He pulled back the soft covers, tucking her in gently. She looked up at him, her green eyes shining with trust and innocence.

"Are you going to stay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll be right outside," he assured her, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "You're safe here."

"Okay," she murmured, her eyelids fluttering as sleep began to take over. "Goodnight, Damon."

"Goodnight, Naira," he replied, lingering for a moment before stepping back.

As he walked out onto the porch, the night air was cool and crisp. Damon leaned against the railing, pulling a bottle of bourbon from his secret stash. He uncapped it and took a long swig, trying to process everything that had just happened.

The little girl had changed everything in a matter of hours. He could feel the remnants of his humanity returning-along with the shadows of his past. It was both terrifying and exhilarating.

But more than anything, he felt the urge to protect her. Naira was a beacon of innocence in a world filled with darkness, and for the first time in years, he found himself wanting to fight for something again.

The house was quiet, the only sound being the occasional creak of the old floorboards as the night settled in. Damon sat on the porch swing, nursing the bottle of bourbon in his hand. He stared out into the darkness, lost in thought, still grappling with the emotions that had flooded back to him since meeting Naira. She had a way of stirring things inside him that he hadn't felt in a long time-emotions he thought were buried for good.

Suddenly, a soft cry broke the silence.

Damon's head snapped toward the house. It was Naira. He could hear her small, trembling voice calling out, muffled by the walls. Without a second thought, he got up from the swing and hurried inside.

When he reached her room, he found her curled up tightly under the blankets, her face wet with tears as she whimpered in her sleep. "No... please don't leave me..." she mumbled, caught in the grips of a nightmare.

Damon felt a pang in his chest as he knelt beside her. "Hey, Naira," he said softly, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. You're safe."

Her eyes fluttered open, wide with fear, and for a moment, she looked disoriented, still trapped between her dream and reality. But as soon as she saw Damon, her face softened. "Damon..." she whispered, sitting up, her small body trembling.

"You had a bad dream," he said, brushing a tear from her cheek. "But I'm right here."

Without a word, she reached out, her tiny hands clutching the front of his shirt. She didn't have to say anything-he could feel how scared she was, how alone she had felt before he found her. Her innocent vulnerability was something Damon wasn't used to, but he couldn't deny the protective instinct she awakened in him.

"Come on," he said gently, lifting her up into his arms. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, her head resting against his shoulder as she sniffled softly.

He carried her out to the porch and sat back down on the swing, cradling her in his lap. The gentle sway of the swing and the cool night air seemed to calm her, and after a few minutes, her breathing evened out.

Naira, still nestled against him, looked up at the bottle of bourbon resting beside them. "What's that?" she asked, her curiosity breaking through the remnants of her fear.

Damon chuckled softly. "This?" He held up the bottle. "It's bourbon, my special drink"

She tilted her head, frowning slightly. "Is it like juice?"

"Not exactly," he said, amused. "It's... more for grown-ups. It helps when you've had a long day."

"Does it make you feel better?" she asked, her innocence shining through in the question.

Damon paused, looking down at her. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But not always."

Naira didn't say anything after that. She just laid her head back down on his chest, content to be close to him. Damon gently rocked the swing back and forth, feeling the weight of her trust in him. It was strange-having someone rely on him for comfort. He wasn't used to it, but it didn't feel bad.

Soon, her breathing became slow and steady as she fell asleep in his arms, her tiny form completely relaxed. Damon looked down at her peaceful face, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

Carefully, he stood up and carried her back inside, her small body still curled against him as she slept. He took her to his room this time, laying her down gently on the bed. As he pulled the blanket over her, something caught his eye-a small, worn-out bunny soft toy on a shelf. Stefan's old toy.

Damon hesitated for a moment before reaching for the stuffed bunny. It had been sitting there, forgotten, but now it seemed like the perfect thing for Naira. He placed the bunny beside her, and almost instantly, Naira's hand found it. She clutched the toy tightly, cuddling it close to her chest as a soft sigh escaped her lips.

Damon stood by the bed for a long moment, watching her. She looked so small, so fragile, but there was a strength in her too. A quiet, innocent strength that had unknowingly saved him.

With one last glance, he turned off the light and left the room, closing the door behind him. But as he walked away, he felt something new-a sense of purpose. Naira was here now, and she was under his protection. For the first time in a long time, Damon felt like he had something worth fighting for.