The Most Powerful Scream is Silence

Chapter 8: Volunteer Day Part 1

The sun, which warms the earth below and flitters between the gaps of curtains and bent blinds, drifted in from under the heavy black curtains covering the windows in the eldest Salvatore's bedroom. If one were to follow the beams of broken sunlight that stretched across the floor they would see the tips of sun rays tickling the edges of the bed and sprawling across the duvet and matching sheets in a kaleidoscope of pale and vibrant yellows.

The morning sun had only just begun to peak out from beneath the blanket of clouds and re-emerge after a long and chilly night. In it, birds basked in shallow ponds, chirping melodies of morning tunes and the smell of roasted coffee beans drifted up the stairs.

Luna, never much of a heavy sleeper (whether it be for safety, a learned precaution over time, she couldn't be sure of), was awoken by the sound of a lawn mower in the distance and the echoing of footsteps hitting hardwood.

Even though she was now awake, however, still caught in the blissful haze of purgatory dreams, her eyes remained closed. A content sigh (or maybe it was more of a hum) escaped her lips as she was completely enveloped by warmth and comfort. Luna wasn't quite sure where she was and to be quite honest, she didn't care at the moment. She felt warm. She felt safe.

God, it felt nice.

Almost like she was basking in the sun for the very first time, feeling the pleasant heat of the rays dance across her skin and leave bronzed coloured kisses where it touched.

Her eyes still remained closed, even as the presence of an arm slung across her waist and the hot breath of someone else on the back of her neck became known because in her experience this feeling wouldn't last long.

Luna just wanted to enjoy the sun a little while longer.

When she finally gathered enough strength to open her eyes, she was met with unfamiliar surroundings.

Where am I? Luna thought, confusion marring her features.

The arm, since forgotten, that wrapped around her waist tugged her in closer, anchoring her to Earth (and to the bed, for that matter).

And just like that, it all flooded back. The Grill, the drinks, the talking, and Damon. A content smile blossomed on her face as she thought of him, he was her sunlight. Twisting and turning around under the weight of his arm, till she maneuvered to face him was no easy task. But she managed. Now she lay, nose to nose and heart to heart with him. Her eyes examined his face, taking in the long dark lashes and ink coloured hair disheveled by sleep.

How could someone be so beautiful?

Damon, who lay deadly still, but awake since Luna opened her eyes, listened to the sound of her heartbeat. Picking up and raising ever so slightly when she woke, only to settle into a soft beat, calming to his ears.

She was alive.

It sounds stupid to say, of course, she was alive. This wasn't the first time he's heard her heart beat, he's heard it plenty of times. But that's not the kind of alive he's talking about.

He can feel her soul, seeping out of her skin and into the air. It hangs there, daunting him, flaunting it in his face till it's almost suffocating.

Good thing vampires don't need to breathe.

Her skin is electric, he can feel it when he touches her. The slightest brush of a finger can elicit feelings deep within him, lighting off sparks in their wake.

She is the opposite of everything that he is. Dead. Cold. Hard.

She's so god damn alive.

And god is she warm. Like a little fireplace, snuggled up against him.