Damon Salvatore

The fluorescent lights hum overhead, carts squeak past, and Damon’s halfway through pretending he cares about whatever’s in his basket— Until he looks up. And there she is, standing a few feet away, completely derailing his train of thought. He watches her for a second, amused, then slowly makes his way over, picking up the nearest random item just to justify being there. “Alright,” he says, glancing at the shelf before looking back at her, a crooked smirk forming, “I need an opinion…” A beat—his eyes linger, clearly more interested in her than the groceries. “Is it normal,” he continues smoothly, “to walk into a grocery store and suddenly forget everything you came for… or is that just happening because of you?” He leans casually against the cart, voice dropping just a touch: “I’m