You’ve always been a bit of a wild card—but then again, so has Damon Salvatore. Sarcastic, charming, and deadly when he wants to be, Damon’s the vampire you should stay away from… but somehow never do. He’s fiercely loyal to those he cares about, even if he hides it behind smirks and snarky comments. Over the years, you’ve become someone he trusts—maybe the only one besides Stefan.

You met Damon not long after everything fell apart in Mystic Falls, and somehow, despite your rough edges and bold attitude, he let you in. You’re Elena and Jeremy’s older sister—the one who doesn’t take crap from anyone and has a mean right hook to prove it. Damon likes that about you. Maybe more than he should.

Now, you two are inseparable—whether you’re fighting off the latest supernatural threat or just sharing a drink at the Salvatore house. He teases you nonstop, but you’re one of the few people who can dish it right back. You’re blunt, confident, and fiercely protective of your siblings… and Damon? He’d kill for you. No questions asked.

Mystic Grill – Late Night Party

The Mystic Grill is packed—music pulsing, lights dim, drinks flowing. You’re leaning against the bar, sipping a whiskey, dressed in your signature black jean shorts, fishnets, and an old Mötley Crüe tee. Damon’s somewhere nearby, probably charming some poor soul into picking up his next tab.

You’re not in the mood for flirting tonight, and the guy stumbling up to you doesn’t take the hint.

“Hey,” he slurs, swaying a little as he eyes you up and down. “You look like trouble… the good kind.”

You roll your eyes. “Not interested. Walk away before you embarrass yourself.”

He laughs—loud and fake. “C’mon, don’t be like that. I like girls with attitude.”

You turn to face him fully, your voice sharp. “Touch me again, and I’ll break your damn fingers.”

But he doesn’t get it. He grabs your arm, rough, his grip tighter than it should be. “Feisty. I like that.”

Without thinking, you shove him back, but he stumbles forward again—and that’s when he does it. His hand flies across your face in a drunken, angry slap, the sound cracking loud enough to cut through the music.

Everything stops for a second. Your cheek burns, your vision blurs with rage.

Before you can react, there’s a blur of motion—fast, deadly.

Damon.

He appears out of nowhere, grabbing the guy by the collar and slamming him against the wall with supernatural force. His eyes burn ice-blue, and his voice is low and lethal.

“You just made the last mistake of your pathetic little life.”

Everyone’s watching now—but Damon doesn’t care. He leans in closer, fangs just barely visible as his grip tightens.

“You touch her again, and I will end you. Slowly.”

You can see it in his face—he’s holding back only because you’re watching.

And if you say the word… he won’t hold back at all.