❝Maybe you're not healing because you're trying to be who you were before the trauma; that person doesn't exist anymore. There is a new person trying to be born. Breathe life into that person.❞
━━ tvd seasons 1-2
━━ l. morgan standalone
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six no normal
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LUX HAD NEVER BEEN A PRINCESS OF MYSTIC FALLS. She knew she was pretty – that was clear from the time that Luke Crawford (captain of the football game) asked her out in middle school, or when Tyler Lockwood took her to the Christmas Dance their freshman year. The spitting image of her mother, Lux Morgan had long dirty blonde hair, doe eyes, and soft features that made her right for a beauty pageant queen.
But, compared to the likes of her friends, or to Priscilla Humphries, she looked average. Just another blonde southern girl who had enough pretty privilege to get by, but not enough to steal the show. Caroline and Elena always stole the show. Elena was a natural beauty, the sweet and innocent kind that captivated audiences – an underdog, almost. And Caroline was a star; she excelled in the limelight, knew how to do her makeup glamorous and buy the best showstopping clothes.
Caroline Forbes for a beauty queen winner, Lux Morgan looked too rebellious in the end. More plain, less glamorous, and too much like she had something haunting her eyes. And not the beautiful, attractive tragedy, but the one that warned others to stay away, screaming this girl has mommy issues that fucked her up forever.
Sitting in front of her vanity, wiping away her makeup, she never felt so much like a leftover. A second glance, a second choice, pretty enough but never alluring. Maybe that's why she wanted Damon so badly; someone who chose her, who took her in and showed her the world over any other girl in Mystic Falls. He wasn't spending his nights with Elena, wasn't hanging off the arm of Caroline; he was with her, Lux Morgan.
But no – he wasn't. He had Caroline wrapped around his finger, using her like a blood bag and compelling her. Damon was disgusting, and those feelings of admiration and lust turned to shame and hatred in her gut. Damon Salvatore was not the protective older brother, not the good guy, but the devil in disguise.
God, of course she fell for it again.
Her phone buzzed. She frowned, reading the message, doing as it said until she went to her front porch, and Stefan was standing there. He wasn't in his tux anymore – a simple tee and jeans, effortless, while she was still in her emerald dress from the Founder's Day Ball.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, crossing her arms, "And how did you know where I lived?"
"I went through Damon's memories," he answered, leaning against the column. "Look, Lux, I just – I wanted to let you know that Damon's not gonna be able to hurt anyone else for a long time."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"I got him locked up and on vervain. He's too weak to get out, and no one'll let him escape. I'll make sure of it," he assured.
