The bass from the sound system downstairs was so strong you could feel the beat of the music all the way up in Damon's room, which was located on the opposite side of the house. You guessed vampires and a werewolf (Tyler) didn't have to worry about blowing out their ear drums, yippy for them. Even Alaric had left a while ago since he had classes in the morning. You, however, didn't feel like losing your hearing to top off this crap-tastic day. Not to mention the killer headache you'd been nursing after having your head slammed into the bar at The Grill. Lousy fucking werewolves, passing through town on their way to New Orleans for Marti Gras, trying to pick fights for the fun of it with Damon, Stefan and Caroline.

They handled themselves life true pros, sent those wolves packing faster than those idiots could say silver bullets. But not before they attacked you. You were pretty sure that guy had a broken arm and jaw after Damon was finished with him. Then your mind flashed to Klaus and Elijah, and you smirked. Oh, those werewolves aren't going to last 12 hours before they piss off the Mikaelson's.

So let them blast their frustrations from the day away, and drink to their dead hearts content. You'd had enough of it all. Of everyone. Screw the world, screw vampires and werewolves and every other supernatural creature out there. Hell, screw all of Mystic Falls! So off you had snuck upstairs where no one would be able to bother you.

Twenty minutes had passed and so far your luck was holding out. You leaned deeper into the pile of pillows on the bed, marking sure you feet were still covered by the soft throw you'd snuggled under, wincing slightly as another shot of pain pierced the back of your head.

"You know, you really should have let me just kill that flea bag, he got off too easy."

So much for your quiet time.

You open your eyes to look over at Damon, leaning against the door frame, bourbon in hand, slight smirk gracing his features. Dressed in his usual black. You can't help but smile a little to yourself as you let your eyes take him in. Tight black jeans, fitted black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his strong arms. One might call it a kink, okay, even you've called it a kink to yourself. Not that you'd tell him that, his ego was big enough. But you couldn't help it, Damon Salvatore looked damn fine and alluring in head to toe back. The literal embodiment of tall, dark and handsome.

"And you know that would have only caused more trouble for us, let Klaus deal with them. That'll be far worse, and a hell of a lot more painful."

Damon smirked as he pushed off the oak frame and turned to close the door with the soft click. "Can't say I'm opposed to the Mikaelson way of violence, long as it isn't directed at me. Maybe Rebekah will play with them all first."

You laugh a little, "You're not going to forget that anytime soon, are you?"

"Nope." Damon replied smuggled walking over to you and stopping at the side of the bed, pausing to look at you for a few seconds before changing the subject slightly. "You didn't really think I wouldn't notice you slip away, did you? I could hear you making your tea," He trailed a few fingers down your arm giving you a slight chill with his feather like touch. "And quietly making your way up the stairs, skipping the step that screeches like a cat."

"I didn't want to bring the mood down, you all seemed to be having a nice time with the booze and the noise. Honestly, I'm just a little burn out on people today, all things considered."

"Even me?" Damon asks, his voice had lowered to a soft, relaxing, slightly teasing time. His fingers lingering on your wrist, right at your pulse point.

"Never."

"Then how about you let me make this crappy day up to you? It's the least I can do after all," He took the almost empty tea cup from my hand, setting it on the nightstand before looking back at me with annoyance in his eyes. Not at me of course, at himself. "I should have been there to -"

"Damon stop," You cut him off, hating how he always blamed himself for everything that happened to the people he loved. Even when he didn't say how he was feeling, which was usually the case, you could always see it. He had a brilliant poker face, fooled everyone else so easily it pissed you off at times how they didn't know him better by now. Or maybe, like Stefan, they did see the truth. But went along with the facade Damon liked to portray. "I do that want to hear you blaming yourself for something that was basically a pathetic bar fight. It's over, those assholes are long gone. And I'll be fine after a good night's sleep."

You gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smiling, because as true as everything you just said was, you know you'd be feeling this way for a few days.

"Get up." Damon said suddenly, taking your hand and firmly, but gently pulling you up off the bed. Ignoring the throw that puddled on the wood floor, and your puzzled face as he proceeded to lead you into the bathroom.

"Um, what exactly are you doing?" He'd stopped just in front of the double sinks, turning to face you with a mischievous smile and the glint of the devil in his eye. "Damon," You laughed a little, feeling your heart start to beat a little faster, knowing perfectly well where those kind of looks lead.

Damon held a finger to your lips, stopping you from continuing. "I'm going to take of you, you're going to enjoy it. And you can Thank me afterwards. Now," He smirked, removing his finger from my lips and looking me dead in the eye. " Take your clothes off."

You couldn't take helped but look at him slightly bewildered. "Excuse me? Mine my asking why you want me naked in the middle of your bathroom?" You raised an eyebrow at him, torn between being annoying at Damon for pulling you out of bed, and intrigued at what he had in mind.

"I'm going to turn on a steaming hot bath, throw in one of those girly vanilla bath bombs you love so much, and you're going to get in it." He prove he meant what he said. Your eyes followed as Damon walked over to his massive soaker tub and started turning on the taps. "And I'm going to be joining you." He added, walking back in front of me to the box on the counter top where all the bath products were kept. You watched as he plucked a creamy one from the box and tossed in into the quickly rising water, still not bothering to move from where you stood on the cold tile.

"Now, you heard me. Take. It. Off."

Well then, what girl could say no to that?

*To be continued*

Requested by my good friend, Johana, who sucked me into the world of TVD and The Originals. This one is for you, vamp buddy.

I hope everyone enjoyed, and please, leave some reviews if you'd like.

~WaywardDreamer