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❝the dinner party, pt. two❞
HE HAD TO FEED TODAY. He'd let himself nearly desiccate and his strength was at an all time low. He couldn't deny how dependent he'd gotten on the vampiric perks, but they proved to be hard to live with simply because he rarely left his home to feed.
If he could stand the bitter taste, he'd feed on animals and stay in the comfort of his forested prison, but it's far too foul for his liking.
So today he's got decent clothes on to go out into town, and he's waited for the sun to set even though he's got his lapis lazuli on his finger, he doesn't want to risk being recognized by anyone. The moonlight is scarce in town anyways because they're surrounded by trees so he's got enough shadows to hide in as he feeds.
He never kills them, it would cause too much of a fuss, and as of right now he's not looking to move again. It's taken him long enough to consider the empty cabin a version of "home" and he's not trying to uproot all over again.
He heads down the worn path of grass that leads him to the dirt road into town. He doesn't care to use a horse, or his abilities to quicken the trip because he finds the brisk September air is making him feel a little more alive than he has recently.
Damon strolls, listening to the nightlife from miles away with his head tilted down at his feet as they stalk along the gravel. Wolves howl out their calls out to their pack and it makes Damon shiver– the sound had always unnerved him.
He hears the first sign of life when he passes the bar. It's lit up with lanterns and candles and yellow light shines through the dusty windows.
It makes him think of the bar he and Rosemary danced in after their wedding, when Ro had gotten up on the bar and twirled around like nothing could ever bring her down again. The memory makes his heart ache, and he quickly tears his gaze away from the bar to the drunk men crowding it.
They were singing unintelligible words to a song that didn't exist, too lost in their drink induced haze to see Damon approach them with growing fangs.
He fed quickly and compelled the men to go home after healing them all from their wounds. He didn't want to drag it out any longer than he needed to.
As he wiped his mouth off with his sleeve, he stiffened, hearing someone come up behind him.
He turns around slowly, sighing frustratedly at the thought of having to fight some human or compel another innocent person to forget of his existence.
"Damon Salvatore, I presume?"
Damon's face falls into a look of fear and he takes a step away from the man watching him knowingly. Brief fright freezes him at the thought of the man being someone from Mystic Falls that's come to kill him. Then he tells himself if they're coming for him, they've probably already gotten to Stefan.
