I Run To You // Damon & Tatia

eldestsalvatore:

Damon Salvatore the name itself was a mix between infamous and famous. The hometown hero who had served his time in war, made a name for himself and done his town and his country proud. Unfortunately though when it came to family matters his father was the only one who didn’t give praise, Giuseppe Salvatore was the type of man who said and did everything that he possibly could to knock his eldest son down, whereas his youngest brother Stefan seemed to be the Golden Boy of the two. No matter what Stefan always received high praise, Stefan was the one who had got accepted into a well known university, most likely would be the one to take over their father’s business, and Damon had been the one to get accepted into Law School, but had turned it down because he had wanted to make something of himself on his own. Grades and scholarships came easy to Damon, but with Daddy’s bank account he had been use to getting what he wanted without having to work for it, and what most people would have considered satisfying Damon had only felt disappointment. He hadn’t wanted to be seen as the Salvatore heir, he didn’t want to be viewed as the rich boy who was handed everything, he had wanted to be treated as an equal and make his own identity, and that had resulted in him joining up.

Seven. Seven years Damon had pledged his loyalty to his country. Seven years Damon had been away from home and those who loved. In those seven years Damon had gone from your average teen to a man, he had grown up and seen things in a different light. In those seven years he had been shot, wounded , thrown himself out of moving vehicles that never ended pleasantly, jumped airborne, missed grenades by that much, dealt with nightmares, had to sometimes go days without food, carried wounded comrades to safety and of course killed. Seven years it had taken for Damon to finally come home.

Upon first arriving the word in itself had sounded foreign to him. In his head there was no home to go to seeing as Stefan was living in NY away at school and his dear ole daddy passed away. Part of Damon had found it ironic that when the medals had been given in his honor that his father couldn’t be there because he was six feet under, of course Giuseppe couldn’t be there the moment that Damon shined the most.  Damon of course even in the limelight felt like he hadn’t been deserving of it knowing all the lives that had been lost, he had just been lucky to come out of that hell alive, why did he deserve to be rewarded for it?

Damon had fit into the infamous category because of his ladies man reputation. Money, check, home town hero check not only had he been blessed with that, but he had also been blessed with the looks. Some women had categorized him as an Adonis God, which of course caused him to smirk each time in amusement, but he couldn’t blame them. He knew he was the definition of good looking. Midnight hair that any woman felt the temptation to run their hands through wanting to get lost in his dark locks, intense cobalt hues that most would refer to as his bedroom eyes, and the type of body that even Greek sculptors couldn’t perfect. When it came to keeping himself in shape Damon excelled at it considering his usual workout routine, which would include going to the gym or taking a long run. Running was what he had favored most because it gave him the chance to really get lost and escape from the world. Though Damon acted like he kept everything in check inside he was a mess, battling inner demons. Being at war for seven years he had seen things that still and would always haunt him, which had resulted in him turning to drinking, bourbon to be exact. A bottle of bourbon he had deemed as his support system, as his personal security blanket each. Though Damon had large supplies of alcohol at the Boarding House, the House his father had shockingly left to him for some reason that Damon still hadn’t figured out , he spent most of his time at the Grill, it was better to be surrounded by people it kept him calmed, and soothed him knowing that he wasn’t in enemy line fire. His time at the grill consisted of drinking, flirting and picking up women, the routine always the same, him sweet talking them and then leading them back to his place for sex, but that’s all it was, sex, a good fuck, nothing memorable. The only thing memorable for the evening was that he’d always be in control, and it helped as a big distraction. Never once though would he allow his lady friend to spend the night, soon as the pleasure was over, and she’d return from her high he’d call her a cab, send her off and that was that.

——

Tonight was no different. Tonight he had allowed himself to catch a buzz and charm a cute little red head back, bonus points for the fact that she was a sorority girl, making her all the more enjoyable. They were sprawled out on his bed, the Egyptian cotton sheets barely covering their bodies. He could hear her giggling beside him, praising him for the pleasure he had delivered, but he had tuned her out, his gaze locked on the ceiling. Sex was great, he enjoyed it immensely but each time he pulled out he was left with emptiness, and the woman he had just been throwing and devoting his attention to always became of less importance.

The sound of the front door bell chiming caught his attention, his brow raising considering it was late at night for visitors. Slipping out of bed he looks at shit what was her name again Kristin….Christy….Ch deciding to go the easy way “stay where you are beautiful I’ll be right back” glancing around the room spotting his jeans he hastily throws them on. Least this gives me the excuse to call a cab exiting his bedroom and heading down the spiral staircase. Making his way towards the front door, his hand grasping the knob as he swings it open, his eyes practically widening at the person standing before him “Tatia” he half whispers. This had been a shock to him, the girl who had once been his best friend, his first love was standing at his front door, if it hadn’t been for the cuts, bruises and her battered face he would have questioned what the hell she was doing here. Leaving her had been the toughest decision of his life, they had stayed in contact when he had first left, but little by little he had begun to draw back until finally writing her a letter breaking things off, it hadn’t been fair when first leaving how he had asked her to wait for him. She had deserved more than that, but now here she stood talk say something he yells at himself.

All he wants is answers, to find out who the hell did this to her and kill them, his fists balling together and he swears he’s seeing red, sucking in a breath forcing himself to calm down “come inside before you catch cold” hesitantly reaching out for her hand, ignoring that familiar touch as he ushers her inside, closing the door and locking it behind him. “Hell Tatia” taking notice of her shivering form “you’re shaking” seeing as they are still in the foyer, but not wanting to leave her he reaches for his leather jacket on the banister, moving in front of her and gently draping it over her shoulders “I’m going to get you cleaned up….and then we’re going to have sharing hour with you telling me what the hell happened” his gaze shooting upwards for a moment towards the direction of his bedroom “I need to take care of something first.”  

When the door swung opened and Damon appeared, everything stopped for Tatia. He looked the same for the most part, but she could see a few scars. The biggest difference she noticed were his blue eyes. They didn’t have the same brightness they did as a teenager, then again why would they? He had been overseas dead in the middle of the war. He had seen things no one here could ever imagine going through and he had survived. That was one thing she never worried about, Damon was strong and he always managed to get through anything that life threw his way.

Upon seeing him, she was catapulted into a memory to the last time she saw him. It was at the airport when he was being shipped out to basic boot camp for training. He had been dressed out in his army uniform and she remembered how handsome he looked. She was dressed in a simple white sun dress, his favorite color on her, with her hair in waves down her back. She stood in his embrace, her arms tightly wrapped around waist and head buried in his chest while she tried with everything she had in her not to cry, enjoying her safest haven in his arms. She had failed of course about half way through, the waterworks coming loose in a flood. Very clearly she remembered him kissing her forehead and seeing tears in his eyes as well when he told her he loved her before boarding the plane.

Thinking of that memory now only made her eyes water all over again and  tears spilling down her bruised cheeks as she stared at him, surprise on his face just like she had expected. She felt her cheeks redden with embarrassment when he finally spoke again, feeling absolutely ashamed with herself for letting it get this far. She wasn’t sure a person could get lower than where she was right now and she knew the only person she trusted enough to be around right now was Damon. No matter what they had been through together or how long they had been without talking, his arms were still the safest place in the world to her, and nothing would change that. Right now, it was all she wanted but she knew it was far too much to ask for, as well as forward after not seeing him for seven years. Besides speaking her name twice, he hadn’t said much at all and she was sure he was too shocked to speak. After all, what does anyone say in this situation anyway?

After the initial shock wore off for him, he lead her inside quickly to get her out of the rain and cold. She was grateful when placed his signature leather jacket over her shoulders and she immediately winced as it hit a particularly bad wound on her back, a few tears falling with it. “Thank you,” she croaked out, her eyes barely meeting as she pulled his jacket around her tigher. She nodded her head in agreement to him, her chin quivering with the onset of tears that wanted to escape from her. The only thing she wished to do right now was taking the two steps that separated them, wrap her arms around his waist and let it all out– cry as much as she needed to. The simple fact of him letting her in proved that he still cared for her, just as she did him. If she were being honest, she had never gotten over him either. She went into rebound but she had never fallen out of love with him, though she wasn’t sure she could admit that to him. Wouldn’t it make her pathetic by some means? Once he made sure she was okay, he bound up the stairs as she stood in the middle of the parlor room. 

As she waited for him to take care of something, her heavy feet dragged their way to one of the big, fluffy armchairs where she sank down. Her feet curled up and she rested her chin on top of her knees, arms wrapped around them. She had no idea how she was going to finally speak about what had been going on for the past five years of her life. How would she tell her first, and only, love that the guy she had started dating out of rebound, began beating her after they moved in together? That she had been terrified to say anything because he had threatened to kill her if she did, not only that, she had no one close to her. He had driven all of her friends away, and the only one she still remotely talked to was Matt Donovan only because they worked together. For years, she had wanted to get away from him, but had no where to run. Her family was all dead now, her mom had died not long before Damon left for the army. She was alone, as alone as anyone could be but tonight she had finally snapped. She had gotten in the car with no set destination, but just to drive somewhere that he couldn’t find her. She was on Damon’s street before she realized that’s where she was heading, her mind, heart and body knowing that was the place she knew she was safest. 

Her tiny, battered and bruised body leaned against the arm of the chair and rested her head back, closing her still watery eyes. She waited patiently for Damon to return, and knew she wouldn’t feel at ease until he was in her sights again. Otherwise, she felt on edge, like Nik could walk in any second and drag her back to the hell hole he called a home. With that thought, she felt her breathing pick up with the onset of an anxiety attack. Her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she tried her hardest to breathe slow, big breaths but it wasn’t working as well as she hoped. Before long, she heard Damon come back down the stairs with a girl following him. Within minutes she was out the door and he was headed back over to her. The anxiety only became a bit worse when she realized everything she had to tell him. She need to calm down and relax fast.