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Name: Haley | Gender: mademoiselle | Age: 25 | Posts: 4,279 | Roses: 0
Old 05-21-2017 at 07:24 PM
angelofthenight
Wandering Child
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I'm on my knees for you...

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OOC: Dusts off Damon muse. BIC:

Damon Caffrey

Damon hated being pitied. He had spent a good portion of his life basically on his own. He could still remember when the police officers had come to his family’s door when he had been almost four, as one of his first memories it was a difficult one to deal with. He and Elena had been playing in the front room with a model train set. He was explaining to his twin sister why trains had cabooses and that was when the knock had come. Eager for visitors both he and Elena and run to the door to answer it, their mother appearing behind them. Two police officers stood there looking very uncomfortable and they informed them that Damon’s father had died… his best friend who he had spent hours with, watching him work on cars and fix things around the house. The man he told himself he wanted to be like, was gone. Damon wasn’t sure what happened after that. He remembered his mother closing the door and taking her two children in her arms and sobbing. Damon felt his own tears come and he waited for his mom to say it would be okay but she never did. Instead, when Damon and Elena woke up the next morning, most of their house was packed and suitcases were by the door. That was the day Damon and his family entered the witness protection program under the pretense that his father had been murdered by a corrupt cop.

But it was a lie. When Damon was seventeen his father’s old partner came to visit his family and she told him that his father was alive. That when Damon had been a child his father had murdered two cops and thwarted an investigation and been forced to run. Diane, his partner, had been accomplice to the whole thing and made sure that James’ family completely believed that he had died. Up until that moment Damon had been wanting to be a cop, especially after the death of h is twin sister who had killed herself shortly after being sent to a mental hospital for the early signs of schizophrenia. How she had gotten ahold of a gun Damon would never know but he would always remember the moment she had pulled the trigger right in front of him. The following week Damon had dropped out of high school, packed his things, and left for LA. When he got off the train in the middle of LA he’d had no idea what he was doing but he knew he just didn’t want to be haunted by the memory of his father anymore. It was as he drank coffee at a café that he met Dalan Louis, a man that forged false identities and overnight he became George Devore and used his artistic skills to sell forged paintings as authentic. Thus began his conning career, an attempt to leave behind a life of lies of and constant change; one of inconsistency and uncertainty. As a con artist, Damon had been determined to take back his life and take control of it. From then on, his life was completely his.

But every once in a while things would happen that would make Damon pause and wonder how he had arrived to the place he was at. As he stood beside the water, the blood flowing freely down his leg he found himself caught in one of those moments. The Russian girl who had been nothing but a complication to his rather straight forward and exciting life. It was like a tarnish on a beautiful piece of art. Though one could acknowledge that the painting was intricate and beautiful, that spot drew the eye and distracted from the overall piece. Damon wasn’t sure when she would cease to be a thorn in his side yet he also had to admit to himself that he had saved her from Keller in that moment because he knew the man’s intentions and the last thing he could have done was to sit back and watch him have his way with her. Damon might be a con artist by choice but he had a conscious and prided himself in his honestly in most aspects of his life. Though the woman standing behind him would be the last to defend Damon and his tendencies toward honesty. She hated him and it made him wonder even more why he done what he had done, especially since it had resulted in him being stabbed and ruining one of his favorite pairs of pants. He glanced down at the rip and new that they were beyond repair, besides it would take far too much work to get the stain out.

Finally Damon told Evea to stop looking at him like he was dying. Even as he said though he could feel himself beginning to shake from the combination of the blood lose, the draining of the adrenaline from his body, and the cold from being thrown into the water with Keller. He wasn’t sure he would be able to climb out of the underground if Evea suddenly found stairs and suggested such a thing. Regardless of that he loathed the look of pity in her eyes. Hoping to get rid of it he criticized her aim and it did what he wanted, the pity replaced by anger and hatred. That was better. "My aim was fine. Keller would be dead if he hadn't have flipped you at the last moment, be grateful of my aim and that the knife stuck otherwise you'd have an even bigger hole in your leg to match the hole you call a mouth." she said and Damon smiled, his back to still to her. Her attempts to insult him were almost cute, endearing in a way. Underneath he could see the concern and worry. She was an open book "You should sit down and let me have a look at it, we don't need you dripping all over the place." she said sternly and Damon turned away from the water and walked over to her, staring down at her as she seemed to look around the room with interest. He wondered what she was thinking and tried to ignore the throbbing in his leg. "Sit" She ordered and Damon was half tempted not to sit just to annoy her but he could feel his leg beginning to go weak even as he stood there and soon it would collapse under his weight despite his deepest desires to bother and frustrate her. "Are you going to let me patch you up or am I going to have to wait until you pass out from that shivering?" she asked and Damon realized that he had turned his attention toward the water again.

When he looked back down at Evea he realized that she had removed her shirt and cut it into strips. He smiled, the curve of her waist and shape of her breasts clear even in the darkness. He sat down slowly and painfully and the moment he was off his feet the shaking began more intensely especially in his hands. He could tell by the look on her face that she wanted him to remove his pants so that she could see the wound. “If you want to see me naked Evea… all you have to do is ask…I’m happy to oblige… “he said with a wink even as he struggled with the button of his pants because of the way he was shaking. He then fell silent, using his hands to brace himself and watch her as she examined the wound. It was a deep flesh wound, the skin around the gash had already started to lose its color and look somewhat infected, likely because the filthiness of the water that had entered the moment Evea had thrown the knife and opened the wound. The moment she began to wrap it, the wound was so tender that he grabbed her wrist and pushed her hand away. “Watch it… I wasn’t dying before but you just might kill…” he said harshly and angrily, his blue eyes meeting hers and he could see the anger in her eyes mingled with the damn concern. He knew that he wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while and had a feeling it was going to be a long night.


Like the sound of silence calling I hear your voice and suddenly I'm falling lost in a dream
Like the echoes of our souls are meeting you say those words my heart stops beating
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