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It was a quiet evening in Mystic Falls. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the sleepy streets. You were walking home from the Salvatore mansion, having just got done hanging out with Stefan, earbuds in, music playing softly, blissfully unaware of the dangers lurking around the corner.

Your phone buzzed, but you didn't hear it. With every step, the rhythm of your walk matched the beat of the song in your ears. The world felt peaceful, almost surreal, as you reached the intersection of Main Street.

Then, without looking, you stepped into the street.

The sound of tires screeching filled the air, and panic flooded your senses, but it was already too late. Your eyes widened in terror as a car barreled toward you, the headlights blinding, and in that moment, everything seemed to slow down. You froze, unable to move.

But then, in the blink of an eye, a strong arm wrapped around you, pulling you out of harm's way. You stumbled in his grasp, your heart racing from the close call.

"Jesus, are you trying to get yourself killed?" Damon Salvatore's voice cut through the night air, low and sharp, but laced with something else—something that felt oddly protective.

You looked up, meeting his icy blue eyes. Damon, of course. The Salvatore brother who couldn't stand you. Well, who pretended he couldn’t, anyway.