"Everyday I'm with you, it's like my world is upside down. The only thing tying me to it is you. Elena, I don't know how to describe my pag-ibig for you..." Damon looked into the mirror. It was time. He'd told Elena he loved her, and now he'd tell her once again. This pag-ibig tatsulok couldn't go on any longer, for his forbidden pag-ibig was dragging him down the path of insanity.
With a regretful glance at his car, Damon knocked on the door. He ruffled the bouquet of red and white mga rosas in his hand. There was no answer, just Elena’s car parked in the driveway. Something was wrong.
Running like a maniac, vampire speed, Damon charged into Elena’s room, to find her locked at the lips with Stefan. Damon’s head filled with thought: How can Stefan make a million mistakes and still get the girl? Why did I have to fall in love? What am I worth?
“Damon- WAIT!” shouted Elena, but Damon flashed out and all that was left was some roses, scattered along the ground. Elena punched Stefan in the stomach, and wooden bullets dug into his Buto and veins. Stefan had kissed Elena, and needed it as a release from his darkness. He didn’t pag-ibig her- he wanted Damon to feel pain.
Elena ran through the rain, crying and screaming, getting madami and madami dizzy. “Damon, where are you?” she screamed, and fell unconscious into the mud.
Elena wakes up to Damon’s face. “Is this a dream?” she says.
Damon, his face covered in raindrops and mud, replies: “That depends on where you stand. You control this- dream or not.” Then Elena leans in, to halik him passionately on the mouth.
“I like this dream. Damon- Stefan tricked me. I pag-ibig you. I’ve made up my mind, I don’t care what you’ve done in the past or how I first thought you were, I care about our future.” Elena whimpered.
“Elena,” Damon hands her what remains of the bouquet, “This is you and me. You are the pure, gentle, kind and beautiful white rose- and I am the passionate, angry, needy, extreme red rose. We’re different, too different, and it’s insane we’re together. Though somehow we fit, here in our own bouquet.”
With a regretful glance at his car, Damon knocked on the door. He ruffled the bouquet of red and white mga rosas in his hand. There was no answer, just Elena’s car parked in the driveway. Something was wrong.
Running like a maniac, vampire speed, Damon charged into Elena’s room, to find her locked at the lips with Stefan. Damon’s head filled with thought: How can Stefan make a million mistakes and still get the girl? Why did I have to fall in love? What am I worth?
“Damon- WAIT!” shouted Elena, but Damon flashed out and all that was left was some roses, scattered along the ground. Elena punched Stefan in the stomach, and wooden bullets dug into his Buto and veins. Stefan had kissed Elena, and needed it as a release from his darkness. He didn’t pag-ibig her- he wanted Damon to feel pain.
Elena ran through the rain, crying and screaming, getting madami and madami dizzy. “Damon, where are you?” she screamed, and fell unconscious into the mud.
Elena wakes up to Damon’s face. “Is this a dream?” she says.
Damon, his face covered in raindrops and mud, replies: “That depends on where you stand. You control this- dream or not.” Then Elena leans in, to halik him passionately on the mouth.
“I like this dream. Damon- Stefan tricked me. I pag-ibig you. I’ve made up my mind, I don’t care what you’ve done in the past or how I first thought you were, I care about our future.” Elena whimpered.
“Elena,” Damon hands her what remains of the bouquet, “This is you and me. You are the pure, gentle, kind and beautiful white rose- and I am the passionate, angry, needy, extreme red rose. We’re different, too different, and it’s insane we’re together. Though somehow we fit, here in our own bouquet.”
