My Dead Heart Is His: A Damon Salvatore Story

To Love is To Hurt

My face scrunches in discomfort as the sun shines brightly against my shut eyelids. I roll over with a groan, not remotely wanting to get out of bed. I shove my face into a pillow before grumbling loudly into it.

After a few more choice words to my silk sheeted pillow, I climb out of bed. I slip on my fluffy slippers before trudging into the bathroom. I brush out my hair before grabbing my toothbrush.

I stare at my reflection as I brush my teeth, looking at the face I've had for over a century. I wonder what I'd look like older, more matured. I spit the frothy substance into the sink before rinsing out my mouth.

I head downstairs, assuming Stefan has left for school but being surprisingly wrong as I see him standing in the kitchen. "Morning," I greet as I step past him and open the fridge. I grab a blood bag and begin drinking from it.

I suddenly pause, my eyes finding Stefan's. "Sorry," I mumble as I reluctantly pull my lips away from the bag.

"It's fine," He shrugs, finishing his glass of water before putting it in the sink. "You got any plans?"

"Gonna go with the flow. Not sure what I want to fill my hours with," He nods and slings his backpack over his shoulder. "Have a good day at school,"

"Thanks," As soon as the door closes behind him, I go back to drinking my blood bag. I walk around the living room, my eyes finding the bookshelf. But more importantly, the speakers.

I smile and vamp up to my room. I squeeze the last bit of blood out of the blood bag before chucking it into the garbage in my bathroom.

I grab my mp3 and attach it to the base of the speaker. I click through my playlists before choosing one tilted 'Shake It'.

Music blares through the speakers and I can't help but smile as I vamp over to the alcohol cabinet and pour myself a drink. I dance around the room, sipping on my drink as I do.

I smirk as I feel Damon's presence in the room, his hands soon gliding down my sides and holding my hips as he presses against me.

His body moves in sync with mine as we dance, my head leaned back against his shoulder and his resting on my head.

He turns me around and guides my hands around his neck before pulling in his arms back around my waist. He pulls me in close as his eyes examine my face.

And in this moment, with trashy white girl music blaring in the background, all I can see is the man that I love looking down at me with the most beautiful pair of eyes.

My eyes breakaway from his to glance at his lips before tippy toeing ever so slightly, my lips brushing his before he connects his lips with mine.

My heart practically soars as he pulls me closer if that's possible, his lips moving in perfect harmony with mine.

He steps backward and leads me to the couch. He falls down and yanks me with him. I laugh as I fall on top of him, he lets out and exaggerated groan to which I laugh harder, him following in suit.

I regain my composure as I straddle his waist, my light purple silk dress bunching at my thighs. My hands cup his face, my thumb gently caressing his perfect skin.

He leans forward and connects our lips once more, his hands kneading the skin that lies beneath his fingertips. I trail my fingers to the back of his head and tangle them in his hair, electing a groan from him.