"It's okay, Carter. Please." Elena stood before the trembling strawberry blonde. Carter's eyes were pure red, veins spiraling across her fair skin. She had never experienced a thirst like the bloodlust poisoning her mind. "Elena, get away from me," she growled. Damon tightened the ropes hindering the girl's movements. She fought against the harsh temptation. Her throat felt like it was ignited in flames, her tongue coated in salt. She wanted to taste Elena's blood. She wanted to savor the way it would dance along her tastebuds, cooling down the fire within her mouth, but she couldn't. She didn't want to succumb into the darkness she knew was waiting for her.
Damon knelt before his lover, his cool eyes pleading. "Please, baby. Just a little sip is all it takes and this will be over." She lunged at the vampire, her fangs bared. He stumbled back in surprise. "Do you not get it? My family all had addictive personalities. I'm doomed," she roared angrily. She was growing tired of Damon begging her. She was tired of wasting her remaining hours arguing over something she knew she wouldn't change her mind over. "You're being selfish," he spat, crinkling his face. Her eyes widened at his words, taken back in confusion. Her head tilted slightly to the right as she peered up at his now standing form. "I'm being selfish? All you've been doing is trying to force me into something I don't want to do!"
"I'm doing this because I love you! We all fucking love you, Carter, and none of us want to watch you die. Not again." He stared down at the strawberry blonde. He was right. And she knew it. Yet, she couldn't find it in her to change her mind. "I'm sorry. I can't." Despite the rope restricting her, she conjured up enough of her strength to rip through the twine, a gasp slipping past Elena's lips. Elena knew Carter would never do anything to hurt her, but this wasn't all of Carter. This was a vampire version; one with a bloodlust that outweighed most of her morals. And, even though Carter expressed her doubts profusely, Elena couldn't let her just die. The Gilbert girl took a sharp object close by, tearing at her wrist. That familiar metallic liquid began to slip against her olive skin, staining it crimson.
