The knowledge that Katherine was alive, and not only alive but uncaring, unfeeling, and uninterested in him or in being re-united with him, lacerated Damon's sensibilities with all the precision of a scalpel, tearing at his emotions. Dammit, he could have remained an unfeeling automoton, he'd done just fine without having any feelings. Why had he even considered that to be such a good idea, anyway?
Of course he knew the answer to that question without thinking too goddamn hard. Elena Gilbert. Katherine's doppelganger. Her twin in face, but luckily not in personality. A second Katherine he did not need.
The night was crisp to the point of exhilarating. Damon was walking just for the pure unadulterated joy of the freedom of motion. He had no particular destination in mind, although he would have denied that, if asked. Caroline Forbes was in the back of his mind, but she never made the move to his consciousness, so remained unconsidered. He didn't have the inclination to put up with her mother's inanities either - another time, perhaps, he would amuse himself as the confidante of those in Mystic Falls who were determined to rid the town of its vampires, chief among whom was himself. But tonight that simply sounded boring.
He paused to sniff at the air, putting back his well-molded head, closing his eyes, allowing the flavors of the night to tease at him, even as the night breeze caressed his soft skin. Although he could walk during the day, thanks to the lapis lazuli ring he'd been given, as had his brother Stefan, by she who must be forever unnamed, he preferred the night with all its mysteries to the glare of Sol's domain. He was unaware at first that he was not alone, at least he gave that impression. But actually he was more than aware of her presence. He was too attuned to her not to. Yet he did not open his eyes right away, allowing her scent to mingle with that of the night in glorious harmony.
"Penny for your thoughts," she said at last.
"Not worth it," he rejoined, a small smirk playing about his lips, "or so I've been told." His lids fluttered open at last, and he met her gaze with his own piercing blue seductive stare. "Taking an evening constitutional?"
"I was just about to ask you that," she nodded behind him, where the Gilbert home lay. He hadn't even realized that he had taken that particular route. Interesting. "You're the one that's away from his home, not me."
"All of Mystic Falls is my home," he replied cryptically, glancing about, as if looking for someone or something.
"He's meeting me," she smiled. Ah, that explained why she felt so secure in braving his company. Prince Charmless was on his way. Still, he wasn't here yet, was he?
"Walk with me?" he asked, brazenly offering her his arm. She hesitated for just a moment, before taking it.
"Of course," she replied, "as long as we stay where Stefan can find us...."
Damon tsked, clicked his tongue against his perfect white teeth. "That'll make sweeping you off your feet difficult, then, m'lady," he bantered, leaning in toward her, filling her with his oh so masculine presence. Unfazed, she simply laid a gentle hand upon his chest and increased the distance between them. He chuckled at her boldness. He could have compelled her. But he chose not to. For reasons best known only to himself, and even he would have been hard-pressed to name them.
But someday she would be his. Of that he was determined.
So they began a circuit of the sidewalk before the Gilbert home, stopping at one end, turning about and moving toward the other, strolling slowly and methodically. Damon could not help but picture her in a hoop skirt, parasol and lace, and laughing mischief. Such a different time. Slower. In many ways, more sensual.
"Damon," Elena began, hesitantly. "I haven't seen much of you lately. Are you okay?" Her discreet way of asking had his heart mended since his discovery of Katherine's perfidy, without coming out and referencing her Civil War twin directly. How very genteel of her. And actually, although the subject was a sore spot with him, her concern was rather touching.
"Of course I am," he demurred, his brows drawing in in that way he had of frowning which was so very endearing and sexy in and of itself, affecting indifference to the implied subject at hand. It wasn't in his nature to be forthcoming about his feelings, though he supposed his brother, Mr. Touchy Feely Vampire - the good brother - was all about sharing his every last thought and heartfelt emotion. Blech, that almost made him nauseous to consider. What the hell had Katherine been thinking when she'd turned Stefan?
Of course, why had she turned either one of them, just to drop them like proverbial hot potatoes when the chance arose? He winced, pushing aside that line of reflection as unworthy and uninteresting. Why had she just stopped walking, though? Forcing him to stop as well, as they were still conjoined at the arm? He gave her a questioning look, guarded.
"You know," she began carefully, picking her way through the minefield which was that subject, although she was bursting with curiousity on so many scores about the woman whom she resembled, "if you ever want to .... talk.... or anything...... " She left the rest open, but he understood. And he appreciated the effort it cost her to say it, knowing how unlikely Stefan was to be very receptive to her offer of playing Dr. Phil to him. Interesting simile that, by the way. Which brought a small smile to his lips. Her offer, not Doctor Phil, that is.
"I'll remember that," he said softly, no trace of sarcasm in his tone, just sincerity. He meant it. Maybe some day he would talk to her about..... the other. Just not right this minute. He felt himself swaying toward her, almost involuntarily. This time, she did not draw back. His eyes were focused upon her lips, his own lips parting just enough, that should these two pair of lips come together.... He held his breath, in anticipation.
"There you are, little love...." The moment was inexorably broken, and Elena retreated, like the mongoose freed from the cobra's spell, her hand falling away from Damon's arm, their link broken.
"Here I am," she returned his greeting, turning to smile at her lover's approach. Stefan's eyes upon his brother were mistrustful, doubting.
"Well, seeing as Sir Galahad is here," Damon quipped, "methinks it is time that Sir Lancelot withdrew from the field. I bid you good night." He bowed toward them both, one hand upon his mid section, in a modified salaam. He winked at his brother almost insolently, before turning and walking away, leaving them to themselves, before they could speak a word of protestation. Assuming they wished to do so, that is.
It took a few moments for something in Elena's mind to click. But wait, she almost protested, how can that be, when Sir Lancelot is the one that ends up with the girl, not Sir Galahad..... But she kept her thoughts to herself, watching him stroll away, out of sight.
Right, as if he hadn't known that all along.