Forever; The Devil's Angel

The beauty was indescribable. There was so much brilliance there, beyond words. Every face she looked at was shining and glowing with happiness. She was sure, she was the only zombie in the land of beauty. She shook her head as she sighed and pulled the apple from the evergreen tree. Even the apple was glowing, it was uncanny, so different from what she had seen.

She bit into the apple as she leaned against the tree, closing her eyes as the delicious juice flooded her mouth but that was it, the extent of her joy. As soon as she closed her eyes, he was all she could see.

His perfect blues searching for her, his voice calling out for her, his hands reaching out for her touch and she always answered it. With her heart galloping in her chest and the butterflies erupting in her stomach, she leaned forward to take his hand.

"Mia," Cam said, his voice sad and Mia snapped open her eyes and gasped, pulling her hand back. She had never seen him as happy as he was, ever before but somehow, whenever he saw her, there was unexplainable sadness that lingered in his eyes. Even his voice sounded different. Maybe, he felt bad or guilty, Mia didn't know and as much as she wanted to care, she didn't. She had her own pain to deal with.

"How is it?" he nodded towards the fruit and Mia shrugged. She doubted he was here to ask her that. "There is a gathering today. All the angels are going to be there," he lowered his gaze, "I was wondering, if you want to come?" he asked unsure.

Mia sighed sadly, "I-I don't know...I don't. I don't think, I want to," she admitted diffidently, playing with her hands.

"Oh, ok. Yeah sure," he ran a finger through his hair, "That's cool," he said as he stood up. He wasn't sure what to say anymore and Mia didn't want it to be any more awkward.

"You know, you can talk to me, right?" he said suddenly as he turned around to face her again. His mouth was turned up to a side, "I mean...I've been through the same sort of thing. So, I...I understand," he tried to shrug casually but Mia knew how worried he was.

Mia smiled up at him as tears started to burn her eyes. "Hey," Cam cajoled her, "Don't cry. Hey, don't cry," he said softly as he sat beside her and pulled her into his arms, gently stroking her back. Mia leaned into him and she sniffled, burying her face in her hands. He kept trying to comfort her but he couldn't give her any. They both knew it.

"Why isn't anything happening?" she asked, feeling selfish. She wanted to go back down, to see him alive and breathing. "Are all the bad people dead?" she couldn't help the words that tumbled out of her mouth, "I just want to see him," she sobbed and Cam held her tighter.

"It's going to be ok," he assured her, "Mia, it'll all be ok. Give it some time. I'll make sure, you see him again," he promised her and Mia raised her head to look at him, her eyes gleaming with the wetness.

"You will?" she asked in a small voice.

"I will, Mia. I promise you that," he nodded to her as he kissed the top of her head, "I promise." And Mia snuggled closer to him.

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It was intriguing. There was something very different from all the places he had been to before. It was worth a thought why he never bothered to visit the place from where his family really originated from? It was beautiful and historic. Damon could feel the roots and foundations in the piece of that land. He wondered how it looked like before with the Original Salvatore, residing here. He couldn't imagine a monster like Silas being a part of this beauty.

It was stunning as he stood at the busy road of Florence, surrounded by people, people like him. For once, he felt like he belonged among them despite the powers he had begun to identify in himself. He was not a simple human anymore, he was a warlock and according to Aaron, he was quite good and powerful.

Damon grimaced at the thought. Of course, he would be powerful, he had a hierarchy that started with one of the most powerful warlock bloodline. He just hoped he didn't turn into another Silas.

He was looking around when his eyes fell upon her. Her back was to him and she was far away from where he was standing but the hair...the wavy brown, chocolate brown hair that brushed her shoulders as she moved down the lane sent an electric jolt through his body.

He didn't even know what he felt looking at it. He just knew he had to see her face, to see if her eyes matched the same gleam in her hair. He dashed behind her, his heart beat getting faster with every step he took.

She was fast and he cursed his human slowness. He would have reached her if he were a vampire. Hell! He might have strike a conversation with her by now. He pushed his legs to move, adrenaline coursing through his system. He had to see her. The same number danced in front of his eyes. 139114751215. 139114751215. It was on a loop, repeating itself over and over again.

His surroundings had started to blur around him as he focused on nothing but her. He was hurting now. How long had he been running?
"Stupido," someone yelled and Damon turned his face to see the bicyclist, he had almost hit. "Sorry," he mumbled indifferently. It wasn't if something major had happened. He was fine and the guy was fine.

He turned his attention to the girl as he took after her again but he stopped as soon as he started. Where the hell was she? Where had she gone to? She was just there. He squinted his eyes as he held out his arms in exasperation. Ugh...he groaned in frustration as he raked his hair and clenched his eyes shut.

He slammed the door so hard, the whole frame shuddered with the impact. "Someone's pissy," Aaron commented from the chair, he was lounging in, reading a book.

Damon rolled his eyes. He was so not in mood to hear anything from him, "And you're smart to know, not to piss me further," he retorted as he jumped up the stairs to his room.

Opening the curtains, he let the sunshine filter into the window as he stood in front of it. It felt good to soak up the sun without a fear to burn in it. He smiled as he twisted the ring on his finger and looked down upon it. It wasn't his usual daylight ring. He didn't need it anymore. Instead, Elena gifted him the Gilbert ring before he came to Italy. Now that, he needed.

Elena. There she was again, plaguing his thoughts and the image slowly turned into the girl he saw today. The hair were so familiar. It was as if he had run his hands through the same hair. He rubbed his fingers together, imagining their texture. He could almost feel it but it was not good enough. It didn't satiate him, his curiosity or that irritating, nagging feeling.

He sighed as he pulled out his phone from the pocket and decided to call Elena...or Stefan. The more distance he kept from her, the better it would be. He slowly dialed the number. "Hello," her voice was warm as always, welcoming and kind.

"How are you?" he asked, fisting his hand.

"Damon?" she was surprised, disbelief toning her voice.

"Bingo," he clicked his tongue, "Did you win a prize on correct guessing?"

Elena chuckled, "Well, forgive me for being surprised," she said in a teasing voice. "Where were you, Damon? You never called," she complained turning serious. "Stefan and I were worried. It's been two months," she said it in a it's-a-huge-deal kind of tone.

Damon shook his head, "Uh, yeah. I was just busy." Elena sighed on the other side. "Look, I'm sorry. It's just..." he cleared his throat, "So, how's it going there? Still peace in the area?" he smirked.

"Yes," Elena laughed and man, what a wonderful sound it was? "It's weird that it's peaceful here. I thought we would never see the day," she sighed, "How's Italy? And Aaron? How's he?"

"You sure do have a lot of questions," he remarked.

"Yes and you have to answer them all. It's been long enough and it's Italy," she said.

"Didn't know you were a fan of 'Land of Pasta'?"

"Hmm. Now, you know," he could hear the teasing smile in her voice, "And Damon? Why don't you give me the number? So, I'll call you whenever I want to have a virtual tour and I'm sure, Stefan would love to talk to you."

Damon didn't want to give out his number. He didn't want to stay connected with them a lot and wanted to keep it on his terms but something in her voice was so...he wasn't sure but it made him decide against it and he started. "Umm. Ok. It's 139..." he paused suddenly.

His heart almost stopped, his breath hitched in his throat. 139...139. 139114751215. 139114751215. Though the number was not same but the starting was exactly the same. 139 part was same.

"Damon? Damon?" Elena was asking but he was incapable of forming a single sentence. "Damon? Can you hear me?" She asked again. Damon staggered for a moment before he pulled himself together.

"I-I'll call you later, Elena," he said hastily as he cut the call. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he thought of how dumb he could be? 139...it was the country code followed by the rest of the number. It had to be a phone number. What else? He was pacing the room now. He didn't know who it belonged to? What did it mean? Why did he keep seeing it?

Inhaling a long, deep breath. Damon picked his cell phone from the bed. He didn't know why but his hands were shaking as he punched in the numbers. 1.3.9.1.1.4.7.5.1.2.1.5. He stood still as he took the phone to his ears. It was as if the whole world had stopped but he could hear the clock tick and he could hear his heart plummeting in his chest, his breaths came in short as he clenched and unclenched his hand.

Beep. It was one ring. Who could it be? Beep. Second one. Could it be someone he didn't remember? Someone who will answer the questions he had? Who could take that feeling of nagging emptiness from him?

Beep. Third ring. Come on. Come on, he thought. He didn't even know he was holding his breath, a queasy feeling settling in his stomach. Beep and then a sound of someone picking up the receiver.

Deep breath, Damon. Deep breath, he willed himself but he couldn't. It was almost impossible. The air was so thick...so heavy. He wanted to speak, to ask but his throat was constricted and then a shiver ran through him when he heard a clear, firm but gentle voice reaching his ears.

"Markowitz Residence. Who is this?"