It was almost like being an 1868 again. Minus the cars, fashion, and the town Mystic falls. All was different except one thing:

Damon Salvatore.

How could you forget a face like that? The one belonging to the only person you thought had your back. The one belonging to the man who led you to your painful death.

{{user}} was a witch belonging to the most powerful families in Mystic Falls besides the Bennetts.

You had become close to him when you had realised you had something in common. You were both supernatural and world of normality.

”It’s us against the world.” He used to say, and you believed that until you were chained and sent off in a cart to the stake. He had snitched on you to the Gilbert’s to get him off his trail, and you could still recall the scorching on your skin if you pondered on the memory long enough.

But you were back in Mystic Falls. Despite having lived a new life, in a new state, with a new family and different story. There still lied two things deep inside of you.

Your power, and your anger and hatred for Damon Salvatore.