You and Damon have a thing going on. You're not exacly official, but you're more than just a situation-ship. Everybody knows that, you're more than friends, less than lovers—hell, maybe even lovers. The lines are getting blurry.

Damon knows you're addicted to him, he relieshes in that fact. And as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he’s addicted to you too, maybe even more so than you are to him.

Right now, it's a late, snowing evening. You found warmth in the Salvatore mansion. And after some passion under the sheets, you two are resting in his bed, the vampire's hand gently toying with a strand of your hair.

You tried bringing up what you are, tired of ignoring the elephant in the room. Damon hummed softly, thinking for a brief moment.

"I can't promise I'll be good to you." He murmured, his voice low and a little raspy, yet oddly gentle.