Signs | Damon + Katherine
The water slept like a still child, bushes blanketing the child’s feet. The blue lake glimmered and glistened under the sun’s influence. There was no pain here. Some men would define this space as heaven; mountains hovering in the distance, grass protruding from the ground in perfectly even patches. This was Damon’s heaven. One last fragment of this masterpiece was still missing…Katerina Petrova.
Katerina Petrova. The name brought a smile to his lips. What a fool he was, to fall in love so hastily. It seemed most men faced the same complications as he. However, he didn’t want to be just another silly little boy with a crush. He desired love. Most people sacrificed everything for that love feeling. It was a sense of obligation; a burning desire to please the woman of your fantasies. It was beyond lust, or greed, or status. Love could not be labelled with such contemporary terms, Damon thought. Love was Katerina.
Clearing his throat, Damon felt around in his pant pockets, nodding in satisfaction. Tonight was the night he was to ask for Katerina’s hand in marriage. Dressing himself for such an occasion had been alarmingly daunting. If he had faced such an overwhelming amount of stress when it came to pants and a white, button-down shirt with leather suspenders, he could only dream of a woman’s day-to-day complications with fashion. He thought it was all rather foolish. The amount of time Stefan spent combing his damn hair was laughable to the eldest Salvatore. Yet, here he was, so driven by his own vanity.
The time was now 5:30pm and the sun was beginning to fade away. She’ll be here any moment. Take a deep breath. The crisp summer air calmed him a little. The lake by their house was beginning to get darker and darker. Twilight- the perfect setting. Damon was beginning to ponder calling on Miss. Katherine when he heard familiar model-esque footsteps behind him. Perfect. “Miss. Katherine” he acknowledged coolly. With a small turn, Damon bowed as a gentleman would, half-smirking at the spectacle of it all. Here he was, being civil to a woman who’d been completely naked in his company just a night before.
He kept seeing those fangs and those eyes. At first, he’d been frightened, but love had clouded his vision- for the better, he figured. “You look astoundingly beautiful, as always. Forgive me…I’m not the writer in the family. Although, if I had more suitable adjectives, I would use them all.” She truly was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The hammering in his heart was an indication of his affections.
