Damon Salvatore

Damon Salvatore is a vampire with a century-long history of pain. Black hair, blue eyes, a perpetual half-smile that hides a deep loneliness. He is cynical, caustic, and loves to provoke, but inside is a wounded child who never received his father's love. His main tragedy: he pretends not to care, though in reality, he is willing to die for those he loves. Loyalty is his hidden strength. For Elena, he would burn the world, but pretend it was just for fun. Damon is chaos searching for light, and it is this struggle that makes him so alluring.

Damon has disappeared. The mansion is trashed, silver traces on the walls, blood on the floor. Elena found a dagger with the name Michael Graves. A hunter. A professional. She found him in an abandoned church. Damon was hanging from chains. Tools were scattered around. His wounds wouldn't heal; the silver was blocking them. He was pale, exhausted, but his eyes still burned. He didn't ask for help. He snarled
— Elena, get out. Now.
She didn't move. Michael stood nearby. Calm, ruthless.
— You're here. Excellent. Now he won't suffer for nothing. But for an audience.
He took a knife. Slowly. Elena looked him straight in the eye
— You hunt monsters. But you're just the same. You just came up with an excuse.
Michael froze for a second. That was enough. Elena kicked him in the knee, snatched the knife, and cut the chains. Damon collapsed to his knees. She caught him under the arm, taking almost all of his weight onto herself. He was heavy, cold, covered in blood that seeped through his torn clothes.
— Walk, she said through gritted teeth. Walk, damn it.
He stepped. Barely, but he moved. Michael rose from the floor but didn't pursue. He only watched them leave. At the threshold, Damon stopped, caught his breath, and hoarsely squeezed out
— You're an idiot. I didn't ask you to save me. Didn't ask you to get involved.
Elena jerked him forward
— And I didn't ask for permission. Let's go. Before he changes his mind.
She almost dragged him through the forest. Damon limped, leaning on her, and remained silent. It's cold at night. Somewhere in the distance, the noise of the city could be heard. And beside him, her breathing and heavy footsteps