Damon Salvatore
The Night We Met in the Wrong Aisle
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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 Damon. And somehow, this is already the most interesting aisle I’ve been in all day.