A/N: Hello, all. So, I realize this isn't the best idea since I already have a Victorious story I haven't finished yet, but I'm having major writers block with that and this just came to me so easily...

Disclaimer: I don't own TVD or Serie A. Just my ideas. For those who don't know, Serie A is the biggest Italian soccer league.

Summary: Journalist Elena Gilbert has been given a chance to live in Italy, on one condition. All she has to do is cover the finals of Serie A. What will ensue when Italy's top striker, Damon Salvatore, pursues her after he and AC Milan win the championships?

Drums pound, people sing, and streamers cover the unused sections of the field. AC Milan and Juventus are tied 1-1 with 5 minutes left in the game.

I can't believe I got dragged into this. I don't even like soccer that much. When I was offered this job a few months ago, they never told me I'd be covering soccer for this long. Although I have to admit, this game is pretty good, and these guys are pretty hot, especially that one forward...

Loud cheers and even louder drums and horns pull me out of my thoughts. I look down to the field to see the ball sitting in Junventus' net, the timer showing that the 5 minutes of stoppage time has ended, and the AC Milan boys crowding around the forward from my thoughts in the middle of the field. All the Milan fans sitting below the press box are celebrating and jumping around, banging on their drums and knocking back more bottles of beer. Everything becomes a blur now.

People quickly move around me, and the next thing I know, I'm in the backseat of a limo on the way to a party for the Serie A champions. The rest of the reporters and I arrive at the venue, and make our way inside. I decide to wait until the crowd has settled to interview the players.

I find the food table and casually lean against the wall next to it. I watch as the lucky fans that are able to attend the party knock back even more alcohol than before, along with some of the people I dare call colleagues. I sigh and push up from the wall, moving back to the table and scanning it for some kind of decent food. Suddenly, I feel a warm body behind me and I whip around only to come face to face with one of the players' chest. The scorer of the winning goal. I don't remember his name, but I certainly recognize his body.

I lift my gaze from his hard, muscular chest to his face. I meet the most beautiful eyes, a clear, ocean blue, smooth tanned skin, a square, defined jaw, and a shock of jet black hair. The man smiles down at me and raises a hand to my face to remove a stray piece of brown hair from my cheek. I freeze under his boldness.

"Ciao. Chi sei?" he says in flawless Italian. I look up at him, dumbfounded. I may live in Italy, but I don't speak an ounce of Italian. He chuckles lightly. "You're not from Italy, are you?" he asks in a beautiful accent. I nod my head in agreement. "Well, since you don't know, I just asked who you are. You're definitely not from around here."

"Umm... I'm Elena Gilbert." I hold up my hand in the few inches that exist between our bodies. He looks down at it before grasping it tightly and shaking my hand. He doesn't let it go, rather lacing our fingers together and dropping our joined hands to my side.

"Well, Elena Gilbert, what is a pretty girl like you doing here? Where are you from?"

"I'm from America." I say shakily. "I got a job covering the championship game tonight, and I decided to stay in Italy." I think quickly as I can to try to think of this man's name. I had heard it probably a thousand times tonight, but right now, it escapes me. Damn it.

"America, huh? No wonder you don't speak Italian. You do know who I am, right?"

I know you, I just can't remember your name, I thought. Wait. Everyone was calling him Savior. What was the Italian word for Savior? Salvatore! That's his name. Damon Salvatore.

"Of course I do. You're Damon Salvatore. Scorer of the winning goal, most goals in Serie A and Italy's top ranked player and at only 23 years old. Everyone knows you who are and loves you." He hums at my words.

"Mmm. Smart little American, aren't we?" He twirls my bangs around his finger. I giggle softly, blushing profusely and he smiles down at me.

"I guess so. Why are you talking to me, anyway? You're famous! There are plenty of Italian... girls at this party for you to flirt with. Why flirt with an American?"

"Well, I've tried out the Italian selection, and they don't fascinate me as much as you Americans do. They don't have your spunk." He says, getting closer to me, if that is humanly possible. He places his hands on the sides of the table next to my hips. Breathing suddenly becomes more difficult.

"Ehi! Salvatore! Stiamo tornando all stadio, andiamo!" Damon lets out a growl like noise before responding to his teammate.

"Un secondo, amico." He calls to the man. "Sadly, I have to go, cara mia, but trust me," he leans in close to my ear. "I will find you again." I stand frozen in place as he whispers a goodbye in my ear, kisses my cheek and walks away. When he reaches the door, he turns around and smiles at me. I make my best attempt at a smile before he disappears through the doors.

I move around in a catatonic state for the rest of the night. Nothing seems right, and I can't help but hope that Damon keeps his promise and finds me.

A/N: Hello! You're now reading stories by a licensed driver! Woohoo! Well there ya go. First chapter of this new story. I know this is short, I'm sorry. I have the rest of this planned out, so this should go better than "Discovered Love" currently is. I am having the BIGGEST writer's block with that story it isn't even funny. So I'll try to get that up at some point, I promise. I've just been swamped lately and my AP test is coming up in a little under a week, so I'm kinda stressing. So I promise I will try to have the next chapters of my 2 chapter stories up soon. Thanks for reading! R&R XOXO ~AllIWantIsEverything

OH! Italian translations: Ehi! Salvatore! Stiamo tornando all stadio, andiamo = hey! Salvatore! We're going back to the stadium! Let's go!

Cara mia = my dear

(Sorry to all of you out there that speak Italian if this is wrong, I used Google translate. I want to speak Italian, but Rosetta Stone is WAY too expensive and I can't find something else to teach me, so if you have suggestions, I'm all for it!)