17. tired of pretending

23.5K 855 352
                                    



❝tired of pretending❞

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

❝tired of pretending❞




"WHO'D HAVE THOUGHT YOU'D BE A NICE GUY."

Damon smirks as he looks at Rose from his place next to her on his bed. She'd healed completely, but they'd settled into a comfortable silence long after Elena left. There'd been plenty of things to think about on both of their parts. 

"I'm not nice, I'm mean. I like it."

She rolled her eyes. "You lie,"

Damon flicked her hand and she smacked him away petulantly. She huffed at his childish demeanor before falling silent, her eyes drifting to the picture he'd been so angry about earlier. "What was she like? Your wife."

He hesitated, and his blue eyes softened as he quickly fell into his thoughts of her. Letting out a wistful sigh, Damon smiled to himself, caught in a memory.

"She was wonderful," He muttered, his heart aching with her absence. "She was happy, and she always found a way to laugh no matter what. She could make someone smile at a funeral if she wanted to. And she was beautiful– the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

Rose smiled at the way he described her, hearing the pain in his voice that intertwined with the love he clearly still had for her. "Tell me about her,"

Damon looks at her suspiciously and she rolls her eyes, hitting his shoulder. "I almost died, this is the least I deserve."

Sighing, he concedes and dives into memories he's tried hard to bury for his own sake.

Damon hadn't been getting along with his father as of late, but in the Christmas spirit, he was determined to spend time with his little remaining family members. 

He and Rosemary had spent the past few months overseeing the construction of their own house, and in order to maintain some sort of semblance to adulthood, they'd been staying in the unoccupied maids quarters on the Salvatore property. Damon didn't have many complaints, as he didn't much care for his childhood home after his mother died all those years ago.

This particular day, he'd brought home a surprise for Rosemary. A furry surprise in the shapy of a tiny kitten he'd found behind the town tavern, screaming its little head off for help. He hadn't hesitated in grabbing it, taking off his scarf to wrap the small pet in as he changed his path towards their home instead of the bar. 

The kitten was black with startling grey eyes that looked around at the world curiously. He had given it a bath in a warmed bucket of water in his father's kitchen, and despite his mewed protests, he'd gotten clean.

𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐝. 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞Where stories live. Discover now