Trains.

He had always liked them.

Damon pretended he didn't care about anything.

If he would play truth or dare, he would be socially akward. Because he could do dare but couldn't tell the truth. Truths were tricky things.

Yes, very tricky.

What could he start from? That he fell in love with a sick, twisted woman? That he felt let down by his brother, that their father hated him?

Or that the feeling of power, not being so insignificant, hurting people or killing them, made him feel better. Because that way he could continue playing rat and mice with Stefan, that way someone cared about what he did.

Then he met Elena. Oh, Damon wouldn't even start up with her. So much like Katherine, and the exact opposite. Annoying, stubborn. But also sensitive, good, caring.

Damon had lived on the egde, on the borrowed time like an animal. But honestly? Stefan was the one out of control, completely vulnerable to his own lust of blood. Damon could control himself. He had no problem with it. He wasn't edgy or unstable. Even if someone bled right in front of him, like Elena had many times, he had no trouble staying still, keeping control.

Katherine. Elena.

How on Earth could Elena be related to her?

Damon didn't want to feel this bound. He didn't want a stable life, loving one woman instead of using many of them. Caroline, for example.

Damon could rip that necklace off of Elena's neck, force her to love him, force her to kiss, to hold him...

But he didn't.

It wasn't real and it wouldn't feel real. He wouldn't touch Elena.

He could feel the jealousy burning inside of him every time Stephen slid his fingers on her skin, kissed her, and she kissed back. For one moment, he had thought, on that porch...But that wasn't real.

Damon wasn't good with lying. He usually told the truth, but it often was so shocking or ridiculous that people rarely believed him. So much of honesty.

Damon really liked trains.

As he stared the empty trails in front of him, he wondered what it would feel like to jump into them. Sad, pathetic. But yet, he had always been sad and pathetic.

His stupid little brother had always been better. No one wanted him, everyone wanted Stefan.

So Damon kept liking trains. Maybe someday he would play truth or dare.

He would take dare; jumping under a train wouldn't be a problem. Truths were.