literen | FIC * Photophobia * Vampire Diaries * Damon

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Title: Photophobia
Fandom: Vampire Diaries
Characters: Damon
Words: ~650
Rating: PG
Warnings: vague spoilers for the beginning of S2
Summary: Snippet of a typical night in Mystic Falls.
Beta: none
Notes: Written for mission 1.2 ("darkness") of the Clash of the Writing Titans @

maridichallenge; I'm on team vampire, JSYK. I'm planning to write something in this fandom every week, but Damon is too awesome for me to write properly.

Mystic Falls seemed to have a never-ending supply of social events and festivals, all of which would have failed miserably if Damon wasn't around to lend a helping hand. At least that was the excuse he'd been given before being roped into painting papier-mâché turkeys, or moving boxes, or spiking the punch, or whatever it was he was supposed to be doing tonight.

Stefan should have given him more credit. It was so hard to keep pretending he was an upstanding member of the community instead of ripping someone's throat out when they asked what he thought of their Tribute To The Eighties event. Privately Damon, immortal one-hundred-and-something years old vampire, had lived through the Eighties and thought they had been one of the most horrifying decades in human history.

But Damon Salvatore, pillar of the community, couldn't say no when head of the organization committee had asked him to help with the preparations. It helped that said person was Caroline, who had lately developed the alarming tendency to snarl at him. Especially when he tried to be sarcastic, which was all of the time. Damon missed the good old times when he could compel her at will. She used to be so nice, what had happened to her? Aside from, you know, the obvious fact of having been killed and turned into a vampire.

He took his chance as soon as Caroline's back was turned, slipping away from the music and the conversations filling the town square. Caroline would notice his absence immediately, if she hadn't already heard him leave, but with some luck she would be too busy to come running after him. Damon was quite sure that if he heard another Bangles song tonight he was going to kill someone. And he wasn't speaking figuratively so, really, it was in everyone's best interests that he walked away now.

There were a couple of policemen lounging outside of their patrol car, checking that nobody was making any trouble. There had been no strange attacks lately, but Liz was still very much alert for any hint of suspicious behavior. Nobody bothered Damon, though, him being a pillar of the community and everything. He slipped away into the darkness at the edge of the square.

"You left early," Stefan pointed out when Damon got home. Not only his little brother had managed to skip the festival, he'd probably spent the evening cuddling on the sofa with Elena and telling her how much he loved her forever and ever. Or something equally and disgustingly sweet. He was still sprawled on the sofa, though his happy puppy face had been replaced by his frowny face.

Damon poured himself a glass from the nearest liquor bottle. "Yeah, it wasn't really my kind of party," he replied, swirling the liquid around in the glass. The curtains on one window hadn't been closed, but he could only see his own reflection on the glass. He turned off the lights with a flick of the switch. Outside, the trees were unmoving and everything seemed quiet.

"Is everything okay?" Stefan asked, turning to look at him. Still the frowny face, Damon could see it as clear as if in broad daylight. Or even better than that, since vampires notoriously had a problem with light, magic witchy rings of not-burning-in-the-sun notwithstanding.

"Everything is peachy," Damon replied with a shrug. "Elena's still alive, nobody tried to kill me tonight, life is good." The problem wasn't that there were vampires, werewolves and witches lurking in the shadows. That had always been par for the course. But at some point, Damon wasn't sure when exactly, they'd started lurking in broad daylight. With so many of them around, it was only a matter of time before someone had an accident.

Damon was really hoping he could be the accident. He drowned his glass and went to sleep.