Carve Out a Black Heart
Damon Salvatore has hijacked my brain and doesn't seem to be getting out anytime soon. So I decided to give this a try - don't know if it's even a fic. I'm not sure how I feel about it - reads raw. But that's what Damon feels like in my head right now and so here it is.
______________________
For all his world-weariness there are things he doesn’t know - that elude him still. And if Damon Salvatore was honest with himself, he would say, that’s how he prefers it.
Sometimes the allusion of a feeling is what holds him together, at best. In this case it’s happiness.
Misery is easy. He should know. He’s had more than a century to practice and perfect it.
Happiness you have to work at. Perhaps this is why whenever there’s a chance of him getting someplace in a relationship, Damon Salvatore manages to somehow fuck it all up. And with such beauty.
If ever in life he had to make a collage of his emotions, Damon would gather the entirety of his existence and carefully dump them on a plain canvas, hoping these emotions would rearrange themselves. He wants them to rearrange on their own because he knows he’ll always take a pick at the darker ones. Pain. Jealousy. Sadness. Hopelessness. Betrayal. Guilt.
That’s the worst of all: guilt.
He wants to scrap it out. Erase it from his dictionary, but apparently a century of vampirism doesn’t disallow him from becoming putty at the hands of an emotion so human he would have drained it of life were it in his hands. But guilt is powerful than he is. So all he does is let it consume him.
He wonders if Elena is ever miserable. Does being with Stefan rid her of her misery, or is she as prone to misery as he is?She's human after all. She must understand what misery is like. And yet she never nods at him. All he wants is a flicker of recognition from her. A hint. I understand. I know what it is like.
But these days he's only treated to her indifferent stares. Only some days though. She doesn't look his way now. Damon misses that.
Sometimes, he thinks he enjoys his misery. He wouldn’t be surprised if they scientifically proved it for everyone to see. Maybe he can carve a black heart out of this friend of his and wear it on his sleeve. The blind ones won’t see (the raven of his clothes would make sure of that).
He’s filled with peace, suddenly, at this prospect. He can wear a black heart and carry it around for all to (not) see. His little secret.
It would just be him - Damon. And his miserable black heart.
______________________
For all his world-weariness there are things he doesn’t know - that elude him still. And if Damon Salvatore was honest with himself, he would say, that’s how he prefers it.
Sometimes the allusion of a feeling is what holds him together, at best. In this case it’s happiness.
Misery is easy. He should know. He’s had more than a century to practice and perfect it.
Happiness you have to work at. Perhaps this is why whenever there’s a chance of him getting someplace in a relationship, Damon Salvatore manages to somehow fuck it all up. And with such beauty.
If ever in life he had to make a collage of his emotions, Damon would gather the entirety of his existence and carefully dump them on a plain canvas, hoping these emotions would rearrange themselves. He wants them to rearrange on their own because he knows he’ll always take a pick at the darker ones. Pain. Jealousy. Sadness. Hopelessness. Betrayal. Guilt.
That’s the worst of all: guilt.
He wants to scrap it out. Erase it from his dictionary, but apparently a century of vampirism doesn’t disallow him from becoming putty at the hands of an emotion so human he would have drained it of life were it in his hands. But guilt is powerful than he is. So all he does is let it consume him.
He wonders if Elena is ever miserable. Does being with Stefan rid her of her misery, or is she as prone to misery as he is?She's human after all. She must understand what misery is like. And yet she never nods at him. All he wants is a flicker of recognition from her. A hint. I understand. I know what it is like.
But these days he's only treated to her indifferent stares. Only some days though. She doesn't look his way now. Damon misses that.
Sometimes, he thinks he enjoys his misery. He wouldn’t be surprised if they scientifically proved it for everyone to see. Maybe he can carve a black heart out of this friend of his and wear it on his sleeve. The blind ones won’t see (the raven of his clothes would make sure of that).
He’s filled with peace, suddenly, at this prospect. He can wear a black heart and carry it around for all to (not) see. His little secret.
It would just be him - Damon. And his miserable black heart.