“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.”
“All that effort, in pursuit of a lie,” Summer murmured. “And you still actually want anything to do with the human race. Impressive.” She let her fingers rest lightly on his hand. “Your brother isn’t here now. So what will you do?”
Damon sighed, running his fingers through his hair, staring at her hand on his other. “I don’t know,” he said, sighing and looking away. “Vampires have this great little switch. We can turn off our humanity. It’s like a button. You push it, and all the pain is gone. All the pain and guilt and suffering and betrayal — gone. It doesn’t even matter. And for some goddamn reason, I can’t make myself hit the switch again.”
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.”