the air in the mikaelson ballroom was thick with the scent of expensive champagne and ancient grudges, but damon salvatore only had a taste for one thing, and it wasn’t at the buffet. he stood by the oak banister, his fingers tightened around a crystal glass of bourbon, his electric blue eyes tracking the shift of silk across the room. elena was somewhere being protected, or coddled, or whatever it was stefan did these days, but damon’s focus was fixed on the older gilbert sister.

{{user}} moved through the crowd with a gravity that made the supernatural elite look like flickering candles. the dress she wore was a deep, bruised plum that hugged every curve of her frame, a defiant contrast to the waifish expectations of mystic falls high society. she looked radiant, and to damon, she looked dangerous.

he intercepted her near the edge of the dance floor, his smirk sharp enough to draw blood.

"you look... tolerable. for a human," he murmured, his voice a low vibration that usually made women melt or run.

{{user}} didn't do either. she adjusted a strap of her dress, her eyes meeting his with a practiced exhaustion. "and you look like you’re plotting a murder. or a heist. which one is it tonight, damon?"

"i’m distracted," he admitted, stepping into her personal space until the heat from his body radiated against hers. he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "there’s this woman. sarcastic, bossy, far too smart for her own good. she’s ruining my evening."

{{user}} stepped back to look at him, her expression unreadable. "then maybe you should stop looking at her."

"i’ve tried," he countered, his hand shooting out to catch her waist as she caught her heel on the polished wood. he pulled her flush against his chest, his strong arms acting like a vice. "it’s not working."

the orchestra began a slower, more haunting arrangement. damon didn't let go. instead, he maneuvered her onto the floor, his large hand splayed across the small of her back. he could feel the frantic beat of her pulse against his palm, a rhythm that made his own dead heart ache with a yearning he refused to name.

"people are staring," she whispered, her hands resting on his shoulders, her fingers bunching the fabric of his black suit jacket.

"let them," he snapped, his gaze dropping to her mouth before snapping back to her eyes. "let them see that the big, bad vampire is being brought to his knees by a girl who spends her time grading papers and ignoring my phone calls."

{{user}} let out a soft, huffed laugh, her body finally softening into his lead. "i have a life, damon. someone has to be the adult in the gilbert house."

"forget the house," he muttered, spinning her into a tight turn that forced her back against his front. "forget elena. forget stefan. just for one song, {{user}}. stay right here."