“Anybody like me? Oh, you mean psychopathic vampire who doesn’t give a damn about human life?” he asked, smirking. “Well the good news is that you don’t have to love me.”
Dryly, she said, “That’s not a vampire thing. I’ve seen humans do it too. Maybe becoming a vampire, who is forced to feed on life as it dies under his hands, just makes it more accessible.” She didn’t mention the times she’d wished she was capable of flipping that switch herself. “Like a moth,” Summer went on, “you know the flame will destroy you but you can’t resist the call.” She gave a harsh chuckle. “And of all the people in this city, all the people in the world, you lit on me. The empath. The one who can feel your pain as you feel it, who can make it go away without costing you the rest of your humanity — the one person who will remind you constantly of what you want to ignore.”
Damon eyed her before sighing a little. “Yeah. For some reason,” he said, staring at her. He stood and walked away from her. He was… getting upset. It never ended well when he got upset. “I have to go,” he said, grabbing his jacket and slipping it on before zipping outside and down the street. He stood in the middle of the road, waiting for the car coming at him to stop. When it finally did, Damon ran to the door, yanked the door open, and pulled the girl out of the driver’s side. His eyes were dark, but first he compelled her not to scream no matter what.
The blur of speed startled her. The anger, the hunger, did not. Hadn’t she observed that from the beginning, that dark bad-boy aura? Pushing herself out of her seat, Summer walked with deliberate grace and conscious speed to the edge of the road, where she folded her arms and watched. Knowing, now, that he could hear her, she said, “Do you think that will shock me, Damon?” A beat, then, “Moth. Flame.”