In which an art student and a vampire get stranded on a deserted island.
Damon Salvatore AU story. (not long)
I do not own D. Salvatore, I just own my character and the plot.
COMPLETED.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-----------
DAMON HATED HOW SHE STARTED TO CRY. It was definitely the affect of wine because so far Florence wasn't crying nor really panicking about their situation.
That was good enough for Damon until she decided to sit down, holding the half empty bottle of wine and start to let tears come down.
He groaned as he could feel every single tear that left her eyes on his own skin. "Stop," he finally said but Florence was too buzzed to hear. "If you're crying about that snake then--"
Damon could see that she wasn't listening so he stopped talking and sat down on one seat. God, they were uncomfortable and he missed his warm bed. "God damn it," he snapped trying to make the seat softer and started beating the chair.
Florence finally looked up, eyes full of tears as she saw him do that. The whole plane moved slightly leaving her sick. "Oh god..." she breathed out then rushed to the toilet.
Damon sighed and leaned back before staring at the ceiling. He tried not to listen to her puking but it wasn't possible. She was so alive, so human that he wanted to rip her heart out and feed until it rained with her blood.
But he couldn't. Not only because she was his only normal food source but, in reality, he didn't want to be left alone. Damon was left too many times.
After about ten minutes Florence walked back, still slightly disoriented and walked past Damon. He followed her with his look then sighed.
Florence crashed her own seats before making herself comfortable. "They'll find us," she mused suddenly as Damon's ears moved as he caught of a sound. "They always find crashed planes."
"Not always," Damon sighed as he thought of his brother. Stefan was always the better man and knew in what situation Damon must have been.
Florence snorted from her spot, trying not to cry. She knew it was alcohol, making her soft and all emotional. "That's because you don't have hope."
Damon scoffed in return. "I had plenty of hope. Always turned out badly."
The girl didn't say anything back as she tried to stop the spinning in her head. "Why were you going to Hawaii?" she asked curiously.
Damon wasn't in mood to talk. "Just go to sleep. You're drunk," he snapped hearing her pulse. It was so irritating, being with a human that had vervain in their system.
