MOVED TO SACCHARYNES.

"    for    some    reason,    i'm    attracted    to    you.   "

"  please      don't    argue.      you    have    to    leave    right    now,    you    aren't    safe    here.   "

"    were    you    really    spying    on    me?    “

❛❛  DOES anything ever come out of your mouth that isn’t laced with sarcasm ? ❜❜ stefan sighed heavily as he regarded his brother, unamused. the unfazed demeanour coupled with the lazy tone of damon’s voice made his blood boil and he ran a hand through his hair, attempting to remain calm.  ❛❛  this is serious, damon. something’s coming and we’re all in danger. ❜❜ a few steps forward brought him closer to his brother.  ❛❛  are you telling me you’d rather be trapped in the basement, weakened by vervain, when it finally arrives ? ❜❜

Lithe legs carried the slender woman over to the unconscious body, her long hair draping perfectly over shoulders as she made eye contact with the other vampire. Her attire, her make up, everything about her screamed that this isn’t where she wanted to be. “Then what the hell happened?” Eyes rested on the potential victim before regaining contact with the other, tone turning slightly accusatory. “What led you to finding him?”

                  𝐡𝐞  𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭  𝐚  𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫.                  𝘢𝘯𝘥  𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦  𝘺𝘰𝘶  𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥  𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘶𝘦  𝘺𝘰𝘶  𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵  𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥  𝘵𝘰  𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭  𝘵𝘰  𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥,        matthew  didn’t  have  that  kind  of  luxury.                  he  was  young,    starving,    and  the  moment  his  fangs  would  pierce  flesh  he  would  be  lost  to  it.                    matthew  is  weak  in  that  regard,      but  at  least  he  knows  where  his  limits  lie;            denying  any  further  advancement  lest  he  turn  into  something  he  no  longer  recognized  as  the  human  he  had  once  been.                    “              …            once.                “              all  so  that  he  would  not  die,      all  so  that  he  might  live  another  day;            it  was  a  selfish  instinct  that  had  lead  him,  self  preservation  guiding  him  another  day.        however,  ever  since  he  has  not  had  another  drop  and-        well  to  say  that  it  shows  is  an  understatement-        his  skin  is  greying,      his  sclera  darkening,      veins  protruding  under  his  skin  a  little  too  much;        his  teeth  are  sharper  than  normal,      fangs  always  seeming  to  be  at  the  ready  despite  how  hard  he  might  try  and  hide  them.                          

eyes  follow  the  circling  of  carmine,      the  way  it  moves  sluggishly  in  comparison  to  something  like  water  or  wine,      an  eery  reminder  of  what  truly  resides  within  the  glass;              someone  bled  for  that,      and  what?          he  wants  it?          a  shudder  runs  through  his  body  as  temptation  snakes  ‘round  his  throat;  suddenly  dry  and  choking  up.              he  looks  away  then  and  only  then,    gnawing  on  his  lower  lip  for  some  kind  of  relief  as  stubborn  grey  hues  settle  on  something  else  in  the  room.

                   “      you  call  it  what  you  want,    i  really  don’t  give  two  shits.      “

some   part   buried   deep   within         experiences   empathy.               born   human,         willing   to   die   even   after   getting   shot   by   his   father,         damon   wasn’t   always            this.               he   didn’t   always   want   to   be   this.            a   vampire,                  creature   of   the   night      ,            forced   to   find   sustenance   in   others.            resentment   for   his   brother   had   been   born   out   of   humanity   being         stolen         from   him.               the   kid   looks   like   he’s   suffering.         practically   looks   to   be   on         death’s   doorstep.            dead   heart   slightly   aches,         calling   for   him   to   offer   some   sort   of   help.                        (         i   don’t   help.            i   don’t   save   people.         that’s   not   what   i   do.      )            gaze   studies,         seeing   the   beast   inside   clawing   to   take   hold.            blood   lust   was   a   bitch.               it   took   him   years,         decades,         to   gain   control   and   even   now            ...            even   now   it   still   wins   sometimes.                        “         you’ve   got   a   mouth   on   you,         kid.            i   like   it.         “                  flash   of   a   lopsided   grin   before   taking   the   drink   in   hand   and   downing   the   contents   inside.               temptation   gone,         for   now.         that   feeling   would   never   fully   rest   for   as   long   as   the   other   remains   animated.   

"    i'm   too   old   to   start   again.   "

“    move    away    from    the    door    and    let    me    at    him.   “       

"       you    think    i'm    being    paranoid       but    the    truth    is    i'm    worth   a    lot    more    to    her      dead       than    alive.    "

“            am   i   supposed   to         be   scared            now?         “                           a   scoff   falls,         eyes   shifting   lazily   from   the   book   in   hand   to   where   stefan   stands.            threats            were   so   commonplace   between   them   now.               not   all   of   them   having   been   followed   through   with.               it   was   almost   a   game,         to   see   which   would   come   to   fruition   or   not.      

"            the   way   you   flirt   is         shameful.         “                     there’s   a   hint   of      admiration      in   tone   despite   the   words   spoken.               after   all,            flirtation   was            a   favorite   tactic           of    his,      in   order   to   get    whatever   was   desired.            it   was   amusing   to   watch   someone   else   try   to   master   it.   

the   air   shifts   around   the   gilbert   home,            faint   footsteps   and   an   unfamiliar   scent   giving   the   warning   of   an   intruder.            it   had   to   be   someone   who   was         invited   in         or   someone   who   wasn’t   a   vampire.               muscles   snap   into   action,            moving   across   the   room   to   place   a   hand   on   top   of   elena’s   lips.            a   single   finger   presses   against   his   own   lips   to   motion   for            silence.                  when   he   speaks,         it   is   barely   above   a   whisper.                        “            there’s   someone         in         the   house.         “

when guilt is thrown,      it often lands on him.     past actions making him an     easy scapegoat.     a human lays on the ground,   passed out,   most of their blood drained.    the wound at the neck points to   another vampire    as the culprit.    he had been crouched down,   examining what he could of the victim,   when another walks in.     form immediately straightens and suspicion heightens.          “      he was    unconscious    when i found him.  “