Vampire Diaries Imagines

Not Always Alone - Damon Salvatore

The Salvatore boarding house was quiet, save for the crackle of the fireplace and the faint clink of Damon's glass against the bottle of bourbon. He poured another drink, eyeing the woman seated across from him on the couch. Y/N Mikaelson, ancient Original and certified lone wolf, looked perfectly composed as she thumbed through an old leather-bound book, her expression unreadable.

Damon knew better.

"You're not reading a word of that, are you?" he drawled, swirling his drink.

Y/N glanced up, her icy blue eyes flicking to his with faint amusement. "What gave it away?"

"You've been on the same page for twenty minutes." Damon smirked, leaning back against the bar. "And you've got that little furrow between your eyebrows you get when you're overthinking. What's going on in that immortal head of yours?"

Y/N rolled her eyes and snapped the book shut, the sound echoing through the room. "Nothing of consequence, Damon."

"See, that's what you always say," Damon countered, his smirk fading into something softer. "But you're lying."

Y/N straightened in her seat, her expression hardening. "I don't lie."

"Yeah, you do." Damon sauntered over, drink in hand, and flopped into the chair across from her. "You lie to everyone. Hell, you even lie to yourself. You're so good at it, most people probably believe you. But not me."

Y/N bristled, her shoulders tightening. "You don't know me as well as you think you do, Salvatore."

"Maybe not. But I know what it's like to push people away," Damon said, his voice quieter now. "To slap on a smile and pretend you're fine when you're falling apart inside."

She looked at him, her expression carefully blank. "I don't push people away."

Damon arched a brow. "No? What about your siblings? You could've stuck with them, but you didn't. You left. You've been running solo for centuries, Y/N. And don't give me the whole 'Nik is unbearable' excuse, because we both know there's more to it than that."

Y/N's lips tightened, and for a moment, Damon thought she might bolt. But then she sighed, leaning back into the couch cushions.

"I didn't leave them," she said, her voice low. "I removed myself from the chaos. There's a difference."

"Is there?" Damon pressed. "Because it looks a lot like you're scared of letting anyone in. Including me."

Y/N's jaw clenched, her eyes flicking to the fire. "It's not fear, Damon. It's practicality. Every time I've let someone in, it's only led to heartbreak. Betrayal. Loss. I've learned not to make the same mistake twice."

"That's the problem with being alive for a thousand years," Damon said, sipping his bourbon. "Too much time to build walls. But here's the thing-you let those walls get too high, and suddenly, you're stuck behind them. Alone."

"I've always been alone," Y/N said softly, almost to herself.

Damon frowned, setting his drink down on the coffee table. "Yeah, I know the feeling. But here's the thing, Y/N/N: you don't have to be. You've got me now, whether you like it or not. And I'm annoyingly persistent."

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh, the corner of her mouth quirking up despite herself. "Persistent is an understatement."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Damon grinned, leaning forward. "Look, I'm not saying you've got to bare your soul or join a group hug or anything. But maybe stop pretending you don't care when people try to get close. It's exhausting to watch, honestly."

Y/N's smile faded, and she looked at him, her gaze softer now. "Why do you care so much, Damon?"

He shrugged, his smirk returning. "Because I'm a sucker for damaged people. And because, believe it or not, I actually like you. Don't make me regret it."

Y/N shook her head, but there was a faint warmth in her expression now. "You're impossible."

"And you're stubborn," Damon shot back, raising his glass in a mock toast. "Guess that makes us a perfect pair."

For the first time in a long while, Y/N allowed herself to relax. Maybe Damon was right-maybe she didn't have to be alone anymore. At least, not with him around.

And for now, that was enough.

Y/N stayed quiet for a moment, letting Damon's words hang in the air. He'd always had a way of cutting through her defenses, a skill that was both infuriating and strangely comforting. She didn't know how he did it-how he saw through her mask so effortlessly when she'd spent centuries perfecting it.

"You know," Damon said, leaning back in his chair, "for an all-powerful, thousand-year-old Original, you're surprisingly bad at opening up. You'd think someone with your résumé would have figured that out by now."

Y/N arched an eyebrow, the ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. "And what about you, Damon? You've been walking this Earth for over a century, and you're still emotionally stunted. Maybe you're not the best person to be handing out advice."

Damon chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Fair point. But I'm not the one pretending I'm fine when I'm clearly not."

Y/N's smirk faltered, and she looked away, her gaze fixed on the fire. The flames danced in her eyes, reflecting a flicker of vulnerability she couldn't quite hide. "It's not that simple," she said softly.

"It never is," Damon replied, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "But that doesn't mean you get to just...check out. You've got people who care about you. Me, for one. And I know that's not saying much, but still."

Y/N let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "You're not as insufferable as you like people to think, you know that?"

"Shh, don't ruin my reputation," Damon said, pressing a finger to his lips. "I've spent years perfecting the whole 'charming asshole' thing. Can't have you blowing my cover."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the tension in her shoulders eased slightly. Damon noticed, of course-he noticed everything. And while he wouldn't admit it, seeing her let her guard down, even just a little, felt like a win.

"How do you know so much about how I'm feeling?" she asked again, her tone softer this time.

"Because I know what it's like to feel like the odd one out," he said after a moment. "To feel like you don't belong, even when you're surrounded by people. And because, as much as I hate to admit it, I kind of like having you around. You're like my emotionally constipated counterpart."

Y/N blinked, then laughed-a real, genuine laugh that caught Damon off guard. "That's one way to put it."

"See? I can make you laugh. That's gotta count for something," Damon said, a smug grin spreading across his face.

"It counts for more than you know," Y/N admitted quietly. She glanced at him, her expression softening. "Thank you, Damon."

He tilted his head, surprised by the sincerity in her voice. "For what?"

"For being here. For not giving up on me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Damon's smirk faded, replaced by something softer, something more genuine. He reached over, clinking his glass against hers. "What are friends for?"

Y/N smiled faintly, and for the first time in centuries, she allowed herself to believe that maybe-just maybe-she wasn't as alone as she thought.