This was never meant to happen.

He was the wrong brother.

After Stefan left…

After Stefan left, she was torn. Even though she was still alive, even though she still carried on with her life, there was something missing. The void of him left her feeling shattered. His absence didn't kill her. It just left her cold.

He says he did it for her own good so that she could have a normal life. Free of the trouble he brought with him. Free from danger of supernatural and mythical creatures. Part of her knows that this was a lie.

He was afraid.

He felt things closing in on him. Feelings and desires, needs and wants bombarded him, making him feel under attack. Making him feel claustrophobic. So he ran. He wasn't so different after all from all the other men in the world. So he left, and she was alone, holding the bag of unrequited love and the knowledge of abandonment.

Enter Damon.

Enter…whatever this is.

He was supposed to leave too. But he didn't. He lied and he stood.

And he came looking for her.

At first she ignored him. At first she was frightened of him. But the lust made her cave. It made her give in to what her mind so desperately screamed at her to avoid. Truth is she was lonely.

And he was there.

So she gave him a try. He got her to do things she never would have done by herself, let alone with Stefan. They partied. They drank. They took road trips and partied and drank some more. They danced. They went wild. They set the world on fire just to watch it burn. He made her give in to her baser instincts, and she loved it.

Just like he said she would.

And when it came time to fuck, well, they did that in a way she probably never would have done with Stefan. They were rough. They scratched and clawed at each other, neither of them afraid to hurt the other. Both knew that the wounds would heal and fresh ones would take their place. And there was blood. Lots of it. He fed from her, and she enjoyed the exhilarating feeling of his fangs ripping her open. It only intensified the pleasure.

It made her want more.

And of course, she fed from him. His blood healed wounds he caused and gave her a high so good she thought she'd never come down. They fought like tigers, spitting words meant to sting , meant to cause damage. Then, they made up, taking all of their anger and hatred out on each other. Making each other pay.

And that was their life together.

Rough.

Dangerous.

Neither knowing when enough was enough.

She was content. Maybe not incredibly happy, but it sure beat the hell out of being alone. She didn't know how long they could keep going like this. How long before the excitement waned, and he too bailed. But while lying next to him – bloodied and exhausted, degraded and satisfied – she couldn't stop herself from thinking about the other brother.

The one who walked away.