Strings of twinkling lights wrapped around the entrance trees, casting a warm glow over the arriving guests. A classic melody drifted through the grand hall, mingling with the hum of conversation and the delicate clinking of champagne glasses—signs of a party in full swing.
The attendees had spared no effort in looking their best. Men in tailored suits, women in sleek evening gowns, each movement elegant and refined. Butlers weaved through the crowd, offering glasses of champagne to those without, ensuring no hand went empty for long.
Damon Salvatore navigated through the sea of people, two glasses of champagne in hand, until he reached Carol Lockwood. The mayor stood in a crème-colored gown that accentuated every curve, exuding a quiet authority.
"Hello, Carol," Damon greeted, his smirk playful as he handed her a glass.
Carol hummed in acknowledgment, raising her glass to his as they toasted.
"Hanging out with your new besties?" Damon's tone was light, but beneath it lurked something else—betrayal, perhaps.
Carol exhaled sharply. "I'm the mayor, Damon. When the oldest and deadliest family of vampires moves into your town, you welcome them. With a smile."
Damon took a slow sip of his drink, his voice lilting with sarcasm. "Well, at least you know who you're borrowing that cup of sugar from."
Carol shot him an irritated look. "I'm trying to protect this town. They assured me they want peace, and I assured them that I would enforce it."
"Mayor Lockwood," a smooth voice interrupted.
Kol Mikaelson approached with effortless charm, taking Carol's hand in his own. "We haven't formally met. Kol Mikaelson." He brought her hand to his lips for a light kiss, his smirk just shy of wicked.
"I hope your lovely town embraces us just as much as we plan to embrace it."
Carol nodded, her polite smile tight.
Damon extended his hand toward Kol, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Damon Salvatore."
Kol barely glanced at him, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.
"Have we met?" Damon asked, narrowing his eyes.
Kol tilted his head. "I've met a lot of people. And you don't particularly stand out."
With that, he turned on his heel, offering Carol a parting nod before walking away—pointedly ignoring Damon.
Damon's gaze followed him, lips pressing into a thin line. But his attention was soon pulled elsewhere—toward the entrance, where Elena had just stepped inside.
For a moment, he forgot everything else.
She was stunning. The gown she wore shimmered with every movement, catching the light like the night sky. Her hair, swept to one side in soft, cascading curls, framed her face perfectly. She shrugged off a copper-colored jacket, handing it to the compelled attendant by the door.
"Excuse me, Carol," Damon murmured absently, already moving toward her.
When he reached her, Stefan was at her side.
"Surprise, surprise," Damon drawled, his smirk returning. "Nice tux."
Then, turning to Elena, his expression hardened slightly. "You're not supposed to be here."
Elena merely grinned. "Well, I am. And I'm not leaving until I find out what Esther wants."
Damon arched a brow but then shifted his gaze to Stefan. "Do you really think it's a good idea to be at a party thrown by a family you once held hostage?"
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To Be Or Not To Be » Stefan Salvatore
Fanfiction"Believing in love doesn't make you a fool, it makes you human." [A complete rewrite] [Season 3 and onwards]
