❛ and if that fails, a plan c, then a plan d, and... you know how the ALPHABET works, don't you? ❜
independent katherine pierce from the vampire diaries. canon up to season 3. semi-selective, private and exclusive upon request/interaction. written by louise.
Damon trekked blindly inside. He didn’t even bother closing the door behind him as he entered. Tossing his jacket onto a nearby chair, he glanced around, still submerged deeply in an alcohol-induced haze. He reeked of restlessness and bourbon yet all he did was search for more. Damon’s hand
quickly
snatched a half drunken glass filled with the liquor from the table, wavering to his feet and cupping it loosely from the bottom as he peered dazedly forward. He wished he was detached. He wished he didn’t feel anything — but the truth was feeling was all he did. His gaze remained trained on the entrancing flicker of the flames, features simultaneously hardened and shining with vulnerability as he remembered exactly what he did.
He killed Jeremy. He killed Jeremy. He snapped his neck and there was no going back from it, no fixing what he did! Jeremy was dead and Elena hated him. In a sudden display of despairing rage, Damon yelled out and powerfully hurled the glass across the room with inhuman force, causing it to shatter with a deafening crash into the fireplace. Shimmering beads of crystal made contact in a series of musical tinks, glinting in the firelight. He half stumbled backward, his dark eyebrows pulled tightly together, blue eyeswetly glimmering in his resignation. The crackling flames only served to mock Damon’s torment, his emptiness, and shone so clearly and transparently on the muddled contortions of his face. He knew he would never be able to rid himself the mental image of Elena crying as she raced to huddle mournfully over the body of her dead brother. He’d done that to her. He’d made her despise him. All of Damon’s ragged edges were swiftly unraveling. He was falling apart.
❝This is all I’ll ever be,❞ he stated to himself simply, tone monotonous. Tonight was too late, his actions too far gone from redemption. The only reason he had even been in that house was because of Katherine. Katherine leaving him. Katherine rejecting him.
images and words both incessantly wandered through the belle’s mind, the thought of her barely arriving in the good old city of mystic falls and already practically turning the entire place upside down somehow brought katherine a hint of satisfaction. she was a player, that was completely undoubtful. a femme fatale with a secret agenda, she would give herself any bit of amusement she ever could, at the same time while attempting to make her objectives come true. and oh boy, how she had one; that could, perhaps, finally grant freedom from a certain original vampire’s wrath.
yet, there she was. having decided to return to her old lovers’ ( yes. plural. ) old boarding house as boredom start to ran through her veins; she needed to act. footsteps began as the sound of black pumps clashed against the concrete floor, a single brow raising at the sight of an open door. and of course she would take such as an invitation, directing herself inside the locale while lips curved into her small signature smile after seeing someone more than well known; damon salvatore.
progeny of her own ( albeit not directly ), he was one of those very few she had come to care about. but oh, a woman such as katherine would never, ever say it out loud under common circumstances; and, sometimes, not even show it. still, it was there. a certain concern she held for both the salvatore brothers that still existed for over a century. nevertheless, she knew both of them; the smallest bit of demonstration would either cause happiness and hope in one and her weakness in another, she knew stefan would still try to kill her somehow.
presence still made unknown, her cinnamon irises watched observantly when a glass was shattered; and not even the biggest of the fools would take long to realize something had probably happened. ❛ bad day? ❜ a question was pronounced, yet she knew the obvious answer - just not the reason. index finger twirled around chocolate curls at the same time she’d approach him almost like a feline; slowly, lethal and unpredictable. to herself, however, it was the desire of stopping him from breaking another crystal glass —– felt only deep, deep down, masked by a façade she had put on for countless centuries.
❛ let me guess… elena. did she reject you again? oh, damon…
❜ eyes locked into his, a touch of fingertips on the silky skin of his cheek. ❛ sweet, sweet damon… when will you ever learn? ❜
