#*stefan salvatore

[sicrazy]

[everlarrk]

#MY FIRST LOVE

[impulsivebiting]

+ saintripper, burlesque verse

Whiskey in one hand and a dancer perched in his lap, trilling like a songbird, her girlish giggles the lilting music to his ears, Damon couldn't have been more content. Debauchery of all sorts was his forte: chauvinism, hedonism, ego centrism. He was a man who sought pleasure, regardless of consequence, and every person who picked up the New York Times on any given Sunday would see the carnage of the eldest Salvatore's previous night. Soft, lulling whispers trickled into the dancer's ear, as Damon's hand brushed against the top of her dress, his mouth dancing across her skin as he spoke. His blandishments were hollow, however, his lauding a guise, a garb. He had the singularly unique talent of making everyone feel special with a single word from his charming lips; however, she was not special, and she would never be special. A sharp longing for crimson painted lips and thick, brown tresses took hold of him, his expression hardening. Damon pulled the dancer towards him, his mouth heavy and yearning for a kiss before the clearing of a throat just behind him caused him to cock his head upwards in confusion. Of course it was Stefan. The stoic, serious Salvatore brother, here to rain on his parade. "Clearly," Damon said shortly, a clipped smile lighting his face, "Father needs to review etiquette with you. Interrupting someone in the middle of something is very rude, little brother."