A/n: Any Tyler Lockwood fans should avoid reading this because this story is a little unfair to him.
All we know is falling
"I think I loved you once."
"It's just a photograph, Damon." She chides gently, rolling her eyes at him with thinly veiled frustation, a frown staining her pretty pink lips as she directs him to look at the camera that his brother was intially struggling to operate.
He considers her with a practiced air of nonchalence, face contorted into an immaculate mask of careful disintrest that he has perfected over the years. "You are getting married, Caroline. It's not the end of the world."
"Yes, but I want memories," she argues, unbound golden curls whipping around to form a halo as she shakes her head vehemently. "Picture. Perfect. Memories."
He flashes her a patronizing sort of smile. "You are marrying the local wolf, it's not like you are going anywhere. You can have as many memories as you want."
"Just do it." Stefan's voice drags out from across the room, interjecting their bicker fest, amusement throbbing through his unsteady timbre.
"This is ridiculous." He mutters under his breath to accompany a forced sigh of exasperation, successfully earning a heated glare from her. Snaking an arm around her waist, he pulls her close and looks at her from the corner of his eye, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. In that very moment, Stefan chooses to click.
"Do you ever feel like you are missing out on something?" she questions Bonnie rhetorically, head being cradled between her palms gingergly. The thick alcohol induced haze muddling her thoughts and making her voice waver with uncertainity. "Like something... is just not right even though you're happy, you're really happy."
Bonnie shoots her a funny look, scooting closer to her inspite of being whisky sodden at best and outright buzzed at worst. "What do you mean?"
"I- I get this recurring.. dr-eam, you know," she stutters gracelessly, tripping over her own words, voice laced with dense incertitude. "I always find myself chasing something-"
Bonnie heaves a breath of relief, the tense line of her shoulder blade relaxing a little. "It's nothing just pre wedding jitters, believe me."
Laughter, which sounds a tad too high to be genuine, spills from her mouth and soon her friend joins in. But later at night, when she endeavours to sleep, she catches herself screaming silent obscenties for not informing Bonnie that these dreams happen to star a certain blue-eyed vampire who has saved her life one too many times : Damon Salvatore.
She is glancing at her reflection in the mirror when he appears in the doorway. Nimble fingers strained, as they fidget with the string of the corset almost blindingly. "A little help here, please."
"Sure," he says casually, sauntering over to her to replace her hands with his own, the fabric of his black tuxedo brushing against the small of her back agonizingly as he loops the silk thread through the tiny holes of her corset so tight that she can hardly breathe. The tension in the room speaks volume as she meets his gaze in the mirror, blue eyes, sharp and calculating and utterly terrifying.
"You sure you want to do this?" he asks quietly, his words undoing the seams of the velvet silence.
She nods her head not trusting her voice to convey the answer that she is no longer sure of, nerves tingling with anxiety as she draws the veil over her face.
"Then let's go, it's time. Elena and Bonnie have already taken their places." He offers her his arm, she takes it.
Her gloved hand grasps his arm severely as he walks her down the aisle.
"It's not too late to run away." He advices her in a hushed whisper that is drowned out by the soothing melody of the violins that rises when she enters the chapel, lips twisted into a dark smirk that suits him well.
"Actually, it is." she says, keeping her eyes trained on Tyler who is waiting for her at the altar with a wide grin on his face.
"That is where you are wrong, Blondie," is the indifferent yet disconcerting reply. "It's never too late."
He leans in to kiss her cheek when they reach the end, the feather light feel of his lips lingering a heartbeat longer than necessary as he places her hand firmly in that of Tyler's. With a wink, he leaves to take his seat beside Matt Donovan who happens to be the best man.
And for someone who is marrying another man, her eyes keeps aligning with his a lot more than needed through out the ceremony.
He finds her standing by the balcony of the Lockwood Mansion clad in a slinky black gown that probably does nothing to protect her from the cold, icy blast of the wind. The dusk light frames her petite structure, as one hand grips the marble railing for support while the other balances a glass of sparkling red wine. "If it isn't the lovely bride."
She starts at the sound of his voice, glancing back momentarily before turning her attention back to the fading twilight. A single star visible in the sky. "I just needed some air."
She hears the haunting echoes of the footsteps behind her as he inches close, eyes widening in suprise as the weight of his jacket falls unto her shoulders rendering an unexpected amount of warmth along with it."It's your reception, cry if you want to."
A smile tugs at her lips. "You were never really good with the emotional stuff."
He shrugs carelessly to hide the discomfort at her choice of words, tilting his head slightly to look at her face. Strands of flaxen hair hide the tears brimming in her sapphire eyes as she clutches onto his jacket stringently. "You look beautiful tonight."
The sound of her heart beating erratically rings in his ears as she laughs shakily, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. "Stop, don't say things like that."
He grasps her by the shoulders then, twirling her around with violent ease so she could face him. His breath mingles with hers in an intoxicating mix that causes her to feel light headed, eyes fluttering with ill-concealead apprehension and she thinks she can listen to a soft, distant melody playing somewhere in the background. She opens her mouth to speak, is silenced by his.
A gasp tumbles out of her, mind reeling with a thousand different thoughts that his dark stare melts away and for a second she almost allows herself to forget just how wrong it is. His hands drop to her waist tugging her firm against him, lips hot as they press to hers.
First comes pleasure and then comes pain with the labored ease of realisation.
She forces herself to pull away from him, eyes downcast, face burning with sordid mortification. "You weren't supposed to do that."
"Yeah, well, I am not supposed to do a lot of things," he tells her as breezily as possible. "I do them anyways."
A lone tear slides down her cheek. "What do you mean?"
His hands curl into fists at sides, silent accusation blazing in his cerulean orbs. "You really don't know, do you?"
He slips into his mustang, twisting the key with keen precision to make the engine thrum to life and is crawling the car through the driveway when he auscultates her shrill cry to "stop".
There is a loud commotion in the house as he turns around to watch her tear though the french doors, six inches stilletoes dangling from one hand while the other is busy bunching up the rich material of her gown so as to prevent her from stumbling. Tyler Lockwood is behind her, thundering down the stairs of the front porch with entirely too much confusion and heartbreak written all over his young face.
She jumps into the car, breath ragged and voice edgy with a tinge of hysteria. "You said it wasn't too late."
"And?" He prompts, smirking.
She glares at him in bewilderment which quickly subsides into disbelief, Tyler screaming somewhere in the downplay. "And let's get the hell out of here before I change my goddarn mind."
"Fair enough." He says, a chuckle emanating from him.
She slips her hand in his, intertwining their fingers and he squeezes it imperceptibly, pushing the accelerator.
She doesn't know if it will be enough for him forever or even for her but for now it will have to suffice because not all love stories have to be tragedies or exaggerated romances in order to be epic, some are inadvertently better.
A/n : I am seriously contemplating giving up writing because I just can't seem to get it right but anyways, here's to hoping Damon wasn't out of character because I tried really hard to get inside his head and believe me it is quite a challenge.