Miracle (A Vampire Diaries Fan Fiction)

Chapter 13: Opinions on Love

‘Wait, so you told her that you don’t believe in love?’ Alaric questioned as Damon regarded me with a bemused expression.

I nodded. I was telling them about my encounter with Rebekah.

‘And she just left?’ Damon probed, obviously disbelieving.

‘Well, no,’ I started. ‘After a while of just standing there, we both realized she wasn’t gonna do anything, but I said it aloud. I thought she was gonna kill me then, so I shut my eyes and waited for the impact. But when I opened them, she was gone.’

Alaric looked at me with an expression of admiration and awe. But Damon scoffed. ‘Bullshit,’ he muttered. I narrowed my eyes.

‘Why don’t you go and ask her? But take care, we wouldn’t want her to stab you again,’ I reply snidely. He glared at me. 

‘But you really don’t believe in love?’ Ric asked. I was quiet for some time, pondering his question.

‘Not really. I mean, you can love your family, and you can love your friends. If it’s more than that kind of love, then it’s just an infatuation. If it’s more than an infatuation, then it’s lust. Not love.’

The two men stared at me thoughtfully, and I looked away. ‘So you’ve never been in love?’ Alaric had an unreadable expression on his face. One that I couldn’t help but relate to shock. I slowly nodded. I stared up at them.

‘What do you think about love?’ I asked.

Alaric shifted in his seat. Damon stiffened. I locked eyes with Damon and raised a brow.

‘I think that love is when you care more about the other person than you care about yourself,’ he said.  ‘When you can be completely yourself with someone, and you put their safety above all.’

‘Have you ever been in love?’

His head dropped. ‘I’ve been in love,’ he stated gloomily. ‘It’s painful, pointless and overrated.’

I smiled coldly. ‘I’ll drink to that.’

I don’t know why those words stuck in my head for so long. Painful, pointless and overrated. I had to agree, but the way he said… It was like a corpse speaking. He sounded so lifeless, as though he were dead inside a living body. I guess that’s why he interested me. The way he acted: his nonchalance, his reckless attitude, his impulsiveness… They all pulled me closer. They made me want to get to know him.

His arrogance put me off, but, well, who was I to judge? I was just as conceited. And maybe I was just as heartless, too… But the fact that a man like that had been in love made me wonder what he was like before. I mean, surely he wasn’t born this way. Something must’ve changed him. I know something changed me. I remember just six years ago, when I was 13, I could easily pass as the most optimistic child to ever walk the Earth. I was probably more annoying than Caroline, which is saying a lot. But when my father filed for divorce, two years later, I was heartbroken. I still remember how much he and mom used to love each other. I was convinced that it was true love. Then they slowly grew apart. My father met another woman, and I suppose he realized he enjoyed her company more than he enjoyed mom’s.

I loved my father, I still do. And at least he had the decency not to cheat on mom. But I could never forgive him for leaving us. I don’t think mom ever got over him. I remember some nights I couldn’t sleep from the sound of her sobs. They kept in touch, however. I couldn’t help but smile every time mom got a call from him. The way her eyes would light up and she would answer perkily. The hope that gleamed in her eyes, thinking maybe, just maybe, they would get back together.

But then her eyes would darken when they neared the end of the conversation. I would get up and hug her while the tears streamed down her face. But it all took a turn for the worst when mother received a call last year from Barbara, the woman dad left mom for. I remembered the scene so clearly. The sound of the wine glass she was holding slipping out of her delicate fingers and crashing on the marble floor. How her hand flew around for the support of anything. The way I rushed to her side and steadied her, worry etched on my face. It was like everything was happening in slow motion.

We both refused to believe that dad was dead. I turned to painting my sorrows away, while mom resorted to smoking. And now she was in a hospital, hanging on for dear life. Was that what it was like for Damon? Did he experience that kind of betrayal? Or was he just insensitive for fun?

Elena was gone. So were Bonnie and Caroline. Matt and Jeremy had also disappeared earlier, and Alaric was in the bathroom. It was only me and Damon left. We’ve been playing pool for approximately the past hour. I was trying to reach the chalk, but it was too high up on a shelf. I jumped helplessly, and grunted in annoyance. Damon chuckled and grabbed it with ease.

‘Damn, you’re short.’

I snatched the chalk from his hand and applied it to my cue stick. ‘God only lets things grow until they are perfect.’ I paused then looked up at him. ‘Some of us didn’t take as long as others.’

Damon rolled his eyes before swiftly pocketing two striped balls.

‘Seriously, though, isn’t it weird that Stefan has suddenly disappeared?’ I asked before throwing the chalk back onto the shelf.

Damon looked at me quizzically. ‘What are you implying?’

I shrugged and bent over to take my aim. ‘I don’t know. I just think that a certain someone might’ve gotten a teensy bit mad when Stefan stopped them from killing Klaus.’

‘I didn’t kill Stefan, Miracle,’ Damon retorted immediately, sensing where this was going.

‘Right,’ I snorted. ‘Just like you said you didn’t like Elena.’

‘I don’t like Elena,’ Damon denied. I straightened up and faced him. I didn’t realize how close we were.

‘Prove it.’ I smirked.

Then he kissed me.

A/N

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