Hi. So my original account, Tabitha Frost, well, I forgot which e-mail I used for that account (that's what you get when you have so much e-mails, you idiot), and not only that, I also forgot what the password to that account is...so yeah, I've lost that account for good. I've tried logging in with all of my e-mails and typed in every password combination I could think of, but still, nada. So yeah, I need to start over (and it sucks, big time. creys.) and I am re-publishing all of my stories in this new account. So if you see a story published with the same name and has the exact same words, I am not plagiarizing it. It's the same story, written by the same person, and published also by the same person.

Anddd I'm putting an end to this annoying author's note. I hope you will (or, still) like this one!

Disclaimer: I don't, can't, and won't ever own The Vampire Diaries or any of its characters.

This was originally posted on December 31st, 2011.

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Countdown

/

Damon huffs before he takes a sip of his drink. He throws a glance to his back, and sees Vampire Barbie dancing to some Foster The People's song, shaking her hips while those nitwits gathering around her like flies. She catches his eyes, and motions him to join her. He just raises his eyebrows, scoffs at her,turns his back on her and downs his drink.

It's the last day of December, and New Year's Eve is coming in a matter of hour. Damon's plan was to rot in The Grill, drinking some scotch, and just watch as other people burn their money when they set their fireworks. But no, Blondie decided to drag him out of gloomy old Mystic Falls and kidnaps him to the next town over. 'We need to get away from all this shit that's going on and forget it for a while!' she had said to him earlier.

It was her idea too to crash the party that some very rich and loaded family is throwing to celebrate New Year's Eve. Damon recalls Blondie also saying, 'It would be fun, I promise. I heard they have this beautiful, rose-shaped firework as the grand spectacle." He had rolled his eyes at her reasoning, crossing his arms and told her he's not interested, but then she continued, "And I'm sure the drinks will be good, too!" When he still showed her no interest whatsoever, she then started to plead. And he hates it when people do that; speaking in a sickeningly sweet tone while they give him the fucking puppy eyes. It's only acceptable when he's the one doing it.

He groaned in annoyance. "Fine," he gave up. Only because it probably would shut Blondie up.

And so she compelled their way in. She was right, though (but of course, he wouldn't tell her that). The drink's good. Fancy, like everything else in the party. Although, he thinks they're going overboard with the decorations. And as for the rose-shaped firework, he doesn't really give a damn.

They've drank, too. Not alcohol, but blood. He was a little skeptical when she suddenly compels the bartender, grabbed him by the collar and offered the human to him. 'Want a drink?" she had asked, wiggling her eyebrows at him and flashing him that million dollar smile of went on about how crazy she was and how they're in the middle of the crowd, and she snorted. "Yeah, like you've never fed on some chick in a bar." He growled before finally sink his fangs to the poor woman's neck after Blondie said, "What? You're afraid of what Elena would think? Or how Bonnie would look at you?"

She then added, after he finished his drink and compelled the human, "Don't let them define you, Damon."

She smiled gently and patted his cheek, before she went to look for a prey herself. That girl in red dress smells pretty good.

/

"What?" he asks in annoyance as Blondie tries to drags him to the dance floor

"Seriously, Damon? It's a party. Have fun a bit!" she says, grinning ear to ear when she finally gets him where she wants him to be.

Well, she wants him to have fun, so he will. He tilts his head to the side and smirks, and oh God how Caroline wishes to wipe that off his face because it's so attractive when he does it that it annoys her. Damon then begins to show off his moves. The blonde in front of him giggles as she watches him. She shakes her head and joins him, shaking her bootie to the mash up the DJ is playing them. He spins her around and catches her in his arms, and her laughter soon fills his ears. Damon can't help but notice just how beautiful she looks when she laughs, and how the lights illuminate her glowing skin. Her laughter's infectious, too. It makes him want to smile, big.

Suddenly, the music stops and they can hear the host's voice through the stereo, saying, "It's time for the fireworks, people!"

Everybody then rushes out of the room, heading to the garden. Blondie grabs his hand and starts dragging him out. "Come on!" she urges. She's so excited, just like a brat in a Christmas morning.

She leads them to the garden, but he has another idea.

"I know a better place to see it," he says.

She narrows her eyebrow, but obediently follows his lead. Her lips break into a smile when he starts climbing on a tree that stands by the house.

"What? You can't climb, Barbie?" he teases her.

She shoots him a glare and begins to take off her heels. A few seconds later, she is up on the tree's biggest trunk with him. "I might look like a princess," she whispers in his ears, "But I used to be a rascal."

"Well that," he begins, "is unexpected." Right after he said the words, he takes a leap to the house's roof.

Caroline then follows suit. She lands on the roof gracefully, and as she dramatically brushes off the non existent dust from her clothes, she replies to him, "I'm not as shallow as you think I am."

/

"And now," Damon says as they finally sit down, side by side, "cue the countdown."

He turns to Caroline and he can't help but smiles as he watches her looking at the sky in anticipation, waiting impatiently for the grand spectacle. She looks so damn adorable; all lively and vivacious and—wait. What the hell is he thinking?

They can hear people downstairs counting down the seconds, but now all he can think about is his Blondie.

"Five!" the crowd cheered loudly.

Wait a second—what? His Blondie? Since when did she become his?

"Four!"

He sees the way her eyes are now shining as bright as the stars, as she clasps her hands together.

"Three!"

Then he sees the way her lips move as she starts counting down the second, too, excitedly. They're red, as she smudged them with her deep red lipstick earlier, and he can't help to think how luscious they are; how beautiful she is. The memory of what she had said earlier suddenly flashes in his head-'Don't let them define you'—and feels like finally there's someone who understands.

"Two!"

He will probably regret this. Or maybe he won't. "Fuck this," he thinks. But he still grabs her face, brings it closer to him as he too leans closer and presses his lips against hers. She has her eyes opened wide at first, shocked. But then she closes them. She kisses him back. She probably will regret this. Or maybe she won't. She can't really think at the moment.

"One!"

They don't even notice when people start yelling, "Happy new year!", or how the sound of plastic trumpet is deafening them, and Caroline even forgot about the grand firework she was dying to see as it's now shooting above their heads and forming a beautiful shape of rose; its light shining brightly in various colors.

"Huh," Damon says once they break apart, "This is so much better than to rot in the grill."

/

Fin.