...

When you and damon get into a little argument
Warnings deep angst

Gracie
The moon hung low over Mystic Falls, casting a silvery glow across the quiet town. The night was colder than usual, biting into Gracie Atwood's skin as she stood near the edge of the cemetery, her breath rising in the frigid air. The world seemed to hold its breath as she waited, every passing second dragging on like an eternity. She had never felt so alone, even though she knew he would come.

He always did.

Damon Salvatore. The name echoed through her mind like a sweet, dangerous lullaby, one that promised both pleasure and pain. She had learned that the hard way, though she couldn't quite bring herself to regret it. Not really. Not when the mere thought of him could make her heart race, even though she knew better than to trust it.

Her fingers clenched around the strap of her leather bag, the cold metal of the buckle digging into her palm. She had to be strong tonight. It was the only way to survive.

A rustle in the shadows snapped her out of her thoughts, and she turned quickly, her pulse quickening despite herself. There, standing in the darkness just beyond the tree line, was Damon.

His eyes, dark as ever, were fixed on her with a mixture of amusement and something else—something harder, deeper.

"Gracie," he said, his voice a low murmur, like velvet brushing against her skin. "Did you miss me?"

Gracie swallowed, the lump in her throat tight and uncomfortable. "You're late," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "I was starting to think you'd left me hanging."

Damon smirked, his lips curling into that familiar, dangerous smile. "I would never leave you hanging," he said, stepping forward, the night around him seeming to bend and shift as if it responded to his presence. "You know that."

She wasn't so sure anymore.

Since she'd entered this world of vampires, witches, and dark secrets, she'd learned that nothing was ever as it seemed. Trust was a fragile thing, and Damon Salvatore was the epitome of that fragile thing—beautiful, dangerous, and always, always a risk.

Her breath hitched in her throat as he drew closer, his scent—rich, intoxicating—filling her senses. "Why do you keep doing this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why do you keep dragging me in like this, knowing it can't end well?"

Damon stopped in front of her, the distance between them so small now that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, a warmth that shouldn't belong to someone like him. His eyes softened for just a fraction of a second, and it caught her off guard, sending a spike of hope through her chest.

But then, as quickly as it came, the warmth disappeared, replaced by the familiar coldness. "Because you're not like the others," he said, the words heavy with something that almost sounded like regret. "You never were."

Gracie's heart twisted. She wanted to believe him—wanted to think that somewhere beneath the layers of sarcasm, bitterness, and darkness, Damon Salvatore was capable of something pure. But she couldn't. She knew the truth, and it made the ache inside her worse.

"You don't get it," she said, her voice cracking as she stepped back, away from him, away from the unbearable pull that seemed to tug at her very soul. "You don't get how dangerous this is for me. For us."

"Don't pretend like you want to walk away," Damon said sharply, his expression darkening, the playful edge of his voice gone. "You can't, Gracie. You're too far gone already. This—" He gestured between them, his hand slicing through the cold air. "This is bigger than either of us."

The words hung in the air like a declaration of war. Gracie closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as if that would block out the truth that he was telling her.

She had come to Mystic Falls looking for something more than what her life had been—something real, something worth fighting for. But in Damon, she had found only the destruction she had been running from. He was chaos incarnate, and the longer she stood in his orbit, the more she felt herself being torn apart.

Her chest tightened. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him to leave, to stay away from her before he destroyed everything. But she couldn't. Not when the way he looked at her made her feel like she was the only person in the world that mattered. Not when every touch, every whispered word, made her feel more alive than she had ever felt.

"Don't say that," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she forced the words past the lump in her throat. "Don't make it sound like we don't have a choice."

He studied her for a moment, as if weighing her words, and then his gaze softened, just a little. "You think you can walk away from me, Gracie? You really think that's possible?"

She felt a tremor ripple through her, her body caught in a war between instinct and reason. Everything inside her screamed to run, to escape before she lost herself entirely. But another part of her—the part that ached every time he wasn't near—whispered for her to stay. To surrender.

His voice broke through her thoughts, low and dangerous. "You can't fight it. You're mine now. There's no getting away from that."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, the finality in his tone making her knees weaken. She should have been angry, furious at his arrogance. But all she could do was stand there, frozen, unable to tear her gaze away from his.

"Why do you always have to make it so impossible?" she asked, the tears welling up in her eyes before she could stop them. "Why can't it just be easy?"

Damon's expression shifted, a shadow of guilt crossing his features. For a brief, fleeting moment, he looked as though he might say something—something that could have changed everything. But then, as quickly as it had come, the emotion disappeared.

He took a step back, his jaw clenched, the cool mask of indifference sliding back into place.

"Because nothing with me ever is," he said, his voice low. "Not for you. Not for anyone."

And just like that, the moment was gone.

Gracie stood there, the bitter chill of the night settling around her like a shroud. The words lingered in the air, suffocating her. She had always known this was coming. She had always known that falling for someone like Damon Salvatore meant walking a dangerous line, but now, more than ever, it felt like that line was disappearing beneath her feet.

He was right. She was already too far gone.

And the worst part? She didn't know if she wanted to escape anymore.

Ava's notes
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New imagineeee
Another one!! Whoop whoop
I have sm planned for this, idk how to get it out more
This one was a lot but I hope you like it
I love making my girl's life difficult it pains me but I love it
Justice for Gracie
Also I encourage you all to request whichever charachters you would love to see!

Lmk if you ever want part twos

Third oneshot is hereee... hope you love it
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.Enjoy.