Damon Salvatore Imagines

An Epic Romance

He had vowed he wouldn't. Not this time. Absolutely not.

Yet here he was.

Sometimes he wondered if he was a masochist. He knew going back hurt, both him and you, you in more ways than one, but he couldn't. That's the worst part.

Its not just his fault, its yours too. Every single time you would be a more perfect version of yourself, so different yet so similar, it would drive him insane picking the pieces apart.

It all started 700 years ago.

Anna had found him, on one of her own missions and informed him the truth of about Katherine. It had hurt, yes. Hurt so bad that it was like an ever twisting knife in his heart, but he picked the pieces up. Or rather, you did.

You weren't supposed to be so important to him, in fact you weren't even supposed to be remembered by him, just a snack. He was drunk and hungry when he saw you, and knew you'd be an easy one. Girls like you were always the same. Screaming and begging for him to let you go before he fed. But when he grabbed you and pushed you against the dirty alley, your crinoline breaking, ready to sink his teeth into your neck, you didn't scream. You didn't shout. You didn't beg. You raised your arm and smacked him across the face. Hard. It didn't hurt him of course, but it did shock him. Enough to give you time to escape and run. He could catch up in a flash but that slap had sobered him up.

It was like a bucket of water on him. He was shocked. He was angry. But most of all, he was intrigued. In a time and age when women weren't considered to be worth more than good wives and mothers, as weak and fragile, you had definitely piqued his interest.

He couldn't wait to break you fire.

And so he sought you out. You didn't remember him of course, you barely even saw his face, too busy panicking and thinking of ways to get out. He put his charms on you, going all out. And you resisted. Sure, he was sinfully handsome, but you didn't have time. You were a young girl in an old world. Your life consisted of campaigns for women's voting rights and your education.

He wouldn't have it. The more you resisted, the more he courted you. His intentions were anything but pure, but a twist of fate turned his world.

He was the one trying to woo you, but in the end it was him that started falling. He couldn't help it. His brain had always been so captured by Katherine and Katherine only, his heart never had room for anything beside his obsession.

You were so different from her. You fire burned just as bright as hers, sure, but yours brought him warmth and filled him with peace. It was a joke played by the universe, the broken vampire falling for the spirited rebel.

But it did happen. And against all odds, your romance turned out to be epic. You fell for him too, like any clichéd love story. You just couldn't help it. It was like a story. It was sexy. It was dangerous. It was breathtaking. It was consuming.

And like all epic romances, it was over too soon. In a manner of speaking.

You see, your story, yours and his, it didn't exactly end. It was like an old recorder, set on a loop.

It all started when Damon fed on this one guy. He really didn't do much wrong but Damon didn't like the way he was eyeing you. And so he fed till the boy died. In his life he had killed more than he could count and while he wasn't proud of it, he wasn't exactly ashamed yet. Falling for you changed him, but old habits die hard.

But this was a mistake.

The boy was the son of the reagent of one of the biggest witch clan in Europe. Enraged, she decided to not kill him but bestow upon him a fate worse than death.

She cursed him. Or rather you.

Now you were stuck in this infinitely loop. You died at the age of 25 and as your breath left your body, you were born again, miles away. Same face, same person, no memories. You weren't a doppleganger exactly, since you weren't a shadow self. You were reborn again. And again. And again.

Every single time, somehow, someway you two would find each other. The first time it happened, he dared to hope. Maybe it was all a mistake, maybe this was a second chance. But no. The curse worked in a systematic way. The second you started to fall for him, the second your heart accepted him, would be your last second.

After the third time, he vowed he wouldn't find you. He figured out where you were, and made sure he was far far away. Sure, he couldn't have you, but at least you would be safe, you would be happy. But the witch was smart.

This time you found him. He tried to run, but he couldn't resist his most ardent desire.

And so the wheels turned again. You died the second the three words left your lips and he was once again left, broken.

He soon realized resisting the curse didn't help, it only made it worse. He tried to break it, spent years researching . He even turned you once, but no. Your daylight necklace lost all its magic the second you kissed him that time.

It was torture of the worst kind. It was the fact that he would meet you, again and again, and for that short time, he would be happy. So happy. And as soon as you began to reciprocate his ever permanent feelings, poof, you would be gone.

He hated that bloody witch. But not as much as he hated himself, every time he saw the light leave your eyes.

He couldn't fight this, it was too much.

He smiled to himself as he watched you for the last time. This time, clad in modern jeans and t shirt, your hair messily tucked behind your ears, you looked radiant in the sunlight. He watched you from afar as he sipped his bourbon. You were sitting alone on a table, nose buried in a book.

Reading. One of your constants in every life. He saw you scrunch your nose up and flip the page. You were utter perfection, sitting there, so engrossed, absolutely lost to the world.

As if feeling eyes on you, your gaze suddenly moved up to his. For a second, just one glorious, beautiful second, your eyes had locked. He tried his best not to, but he knew you were confused by the array of emotions directed towards you. And just as suddenly the second was over. That's all he allowed himself. One second. Or you'd tempt him again. No. not this time. Not again.

So he averted his gaze and finished his drink. Standing up, he could see you frowning in confusion before you returned to your book. Completely oblivious.

It was better that way, he thought, as he walked out. Much better. He'd been selfish long enough. He was tired. Tired of breaking. Tired of hating himself. Tired of hoping. Tired of ruining you.

It was a bright day, he noticed. You'd probably go out with your friends, to enjoy the day. Or maybe you'll stay inside and finish that book, not moving till you'd reached the end.

It doesn't matter. You'd be happy. You'd be safe. You'd be alive.

He was done messing with you and himself.

You'd finally live a full life. No supernatural drama. You'd find love and it won't be as epic as before, but it'd be fulfilling. It would be safe. And yes, he was happy that you'd finally get what you deserve.

No more being selfish.

It really is a bright day, he thought, and with the image of your eyes burned into his head, he took his ring off.

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So......that was morbid. And super late.

Is it even worth apologizing anymore?

Im not gonna bother. Instead I will take all the death threats with a brave face.

Keep 'em coming.

Hope you liked it. No actual 'action' per se, but more story.

See you in a century

i<3choc35