The Vampire Diaries fic: Stay Awhile (and Maybe Then You’ll See)
Title: Stay Awhile (and Maybe Then You’ll See)
Fandom(s): The Vampire Diaries
Rating: G
Word Count: 653
Summary: I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell.
Author’s Notes: Response to this prompt. Vague spoilers for “The Return.”
Stay Awhile (and Maybe Then You’ll See)
Damon Salvatore is a lot of things, but he’s not stupid. (Stefan might tell you otherwise, sometimes, but don’t believe him.)
He knows he’s being irrational.
He knows.
He knows being in love with Elena, when she looks like…her, is insane.
He knows.
But he can’t help it. She’s there, invading his dreams and his thoughts and his body, haunting him without even knowing it. She runs through his mind like wildfire, all-consuming, but empty. (She’s not his.)
He stays because of her, for her. He stays, lives, for those moments when she’ll look at him-really look at him-her eyes soft and curious where Katherine’s had been calculating and omniscient. She’d given him a chance where no one else had, even though he didn’t deserve it. She keeps giving him chances, even though he doesn’t deserve them.
He knows she doesn’t see him like he sees her.
He knows.
She sees Stefan like he wishes she’d see him, but the way she regards him-fondly, if not deeper than that-is enough, for now. Maybe for forever.
Right now she doesn’t feel for him, not the way he so desperately wants, the way he so desperately cares about her, but he thinks that maybe someday she could. It goes against his very nature to be Good, to be the guy people can count on, the white knight instead of the dark horse, but if she’d seen it (she had, she’d told him so), then, he thinks, it must be there. Somewhere. Hiding. Dormant, but not absent.
Damon Salvatore is many things, but he’s not oblivious. (Okay, perhaps about some things, but not about this.)
He knows people talk about him.
He knows.
He knows she and Stefan talk, argue almost, about him. Stefan warns her against caring again for him (he killed your brother last time you did), but she refuses (he’s not all bad, I know he isn’t); and the judgy little witch side-eyes him whenever he’s near but says, does, nothing; and Jeremy, well, he laughs at his quips, like…like he’s his little brother. Like he wants an older brother. Or something. He hates all of it, really. (But doesn’t.)
He wonders what it’d be like if he were normal.
(Emotion normal, not human normal.)
He wonders what would happen if he were. If she would give him more of a chance, or less of one. If she pays attention to him now (likes-maybe-sort-of-could-someday-love him) because he’s dangerous, because there’s that thrill of he could kill me. If he were normal (boring), would she still see him as Damon, or would he be just Stefan’s Brother?
He looks to his left now, at Elena’s sound asleep form on the couch, face peaceful despite the roiling, looming trouble in reality, takes a sip of whiskey, pours himself another.
He remembers.
“Just sleep here, Elena,” he says, setting aside the ancient tome of which they’d both been futilely trying to make sense. “You’re in no condition to be driving home.”
She doesn’t bring up the fact that he could drive her, just says, “I guess” and promptly lays down on the couch, pulling a blanket over herself. And because she’s still perturbed with everyone wanting to save her, a sarcastic (but not) “Don’t let anything get me.”
“I won’t.”
And he frowns. Somewhere down the line, he’d changed from being the monster in the dark to being someone she trusts at her most vulnerable. He thinks that, with all his (once upon a time) contentment of having people fear him, it’s strange that he enjoys the fact she doesn’t. All these years he thought he’d been just fine as a psychopath, because it was better, because it made people hate him, and isn’t that easier?
Maybe I’m not crazy, he decides, looking at Elena’s placid figure, the one that perpetually insists he has good inside of him. I’m just a little…unwell.
Fandom(s): The Vampire Diaries
Rating: G
Word Count: 653
Summary: I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell.
Author’s Notes: Response to this prompt. Vague spoilers for “The Return.”
Stay Awhile (and Maybe Then You’ll See)
Damon Salvatore is a lot of things, but he’s not stupid. (Stefan might tell you otherwise, sometimes, but don’t believe him.)
He knows he’s being irrational.
He knows.
He knows being in love with Elena, when she looks like…her, is insane.
He knows.
But he can’t help it. She’s there, invading his dreams and his thoughts and his body, haunting him without even knowing it. She runs through his mind like wildfire, all-consuming, but empty. (She’s not his.)
He stays because of her, for her. He stays, lives, for those moments when she’ll look at him-really look at him-her eyes soft and curious where Katherine’s had been calculating and omniscient. She’d given him a chance where no one else had, even though he didn’t deserve it. She keeps giving him chances, even though he doesn’t deserve them.
He knows she doesn’t see him like he sees her.
He knows.
She sees Stefan like he wishes she’d see him, but the way she regards him-fondly, if not deeper than that-is enough, for now. Maybe for forever.
Right now she doesn’t feel for him, not the way he so desperately wants, the way he so desperately cares about her, but he thinks that maybe someday she could. It goes against his very nature to be Good, to be the guy people can count on, the white knight instead of the dark horse, but if she’d seen it (she had, she’d told him so), then, he thinks, it must be there. Somewhere. Hiding. Dormant, but not absent.
Damon Salvatore is many things, but he’s not oblivious. (Okay, perhaps about some things, but not about this.)
He knows people talk about him.
He knows.
He knows she and Stefan talk, argue almost, about him. Stefan warns her against caring again for him (he killed your brother last time you did), but she refuses (he’s not all bad, I know he isn’t); and the judgy little witch side-eyes him whenever he’s near but says, does, nothing; and Jeremy, well, he laughs at his quips, like…like he’s his little brother. Like he wants an older brother. Or something. He hates all of it, really. (But doesn’t.)
He wonders what it’d be like if he were normal.
(Emotion normal, not human normal.)
He wonders what would happen if he were. If she would give him more of a chance, or less of one. If she pays attention to him now (likes-maybe-sort-of-could-someday-love him) because he’s dangerous, because there’s that thrill of he could kill me. If he were normal (boring), would she still see him as Damon, or would he be just Stefan’s Brother?
He looks to his left now, at Elena’s sound asleep form on the couch, face peaceful despite the roiling, looming trouble in reality, takes a sip of whiskey, pours himself another.
He remembers.
“Just sleep here, Elena,” he says, setting aside the ancient tome of which they’d both been futilely trying to make sense. “You’re in no condition to be driving home.”
She doesn’t bring up the fact that he could drive her, just says, “I guess” and promptly lays down on the couch, pulling a blanket over herself. And because she’s still perturbed with everyone wanting to save her, a sarcastic (but not) “Don’t let anything get me.”
“I won’t.”
And he frowns. Somewhere down the line, he’d changed from being the monster in the dark to being someone she trusts at her most vulnerable. He thinks that, with all his (once upon a time) contentment of having people fear him, it’s strange that he enjoys the fact she doesn’t. All these years he thought he’d been just fine as a psychopath, because it was better, because it made people hate him, and isn’t that easier?
Maybe I’m not crazy, he decides, looking at Elena’s placid figure, the one that perpetually insists he has good inside of him. I’m just a little…unwell.