AN: This update came very close to being a day late. I apologize for not updating this until late tonight (Sunday). I've been pretty busy this weekend and I forewarn that there might be a few Sundays in the future that might prevent me from updating on time. Sorry in advance. Thank you for the reviews on Chapter 8. A "twist" for this story is still happening and I will be slowly introducing it soon. I got some concerns directed my way about it and I just wanted to address that. Don't worry it's still happening. Anyways, enjoy and leave your review after you read.
CHAPTER 9.
Five days later...
Beep. Beep. Beep. The round alarm clock with time of 6:30 a.m. screeched through his hollow bedroom and heart. Groggy, tired, and slightly feeling the after effects of finishing a bottle of bourbon from the night before were making this morning all the more difficult. He swore after his stint with Absinthe he would never touch a drop of alcohol again, but that was four nights ago. Each night as the bottle went dry and he hunched over his desk in his study he promised it would be the last. The next three following nights proved differently.
Addiction was in his veins. He couldn't escape it. The love for the bottle was consuming him all over again and he didn't want it to end. It was his crutch, his love because nothing could suffice to feeling happy again.
With a deep breath he swung his legs over the bed and gripped the edge of the mattress. The dark shades were drawn not wishing to let in the sunlight yet. His bare feet shivered as it touched the hardwood floor and he sighed. Not daring to look over his shoulder to remind himself of the depressing truth that his bed was empty, Damon forced himself to rise. He had been dreading this day.
An immediate leave of absence from work was put into effect at moment's notice of her death. Damon could still hear the phone call of the female police officer's cold voice regretting to inform him of what had happened. Reliving that moment in his memory made his heart fall into his stomach again swirling around the contents of what was in it. He swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut forcing the bile back down that was rising in his throat like it had almost over a week ago. He was never the type to react in such a physical manner such as getting sick. It was rare even for the amount he used to drink and continued to do. Now, it was the reaction his body succumbed to because that's how dramatic it felt. He was sick to his stomach thinking about it.
Shaking his head and washing away the image of sorrow, he walked slowly and with little energy over to his closet. He flipped on the switch and the pain stabbed and cut his chest harder than he wanted it to. His intentions upon entering were not to be hurt by the image of her clothes still hanging. It was to retrieve his neatly piled work out clothes and to get his life back on track. However, it seemed next to impossible as every thread and piece of cloth brought him spiraling down. Even when he thought he was taking one-step forward, something always made him take two steps back. Days had passed since he even found his way into the closet they shared. He was aware her things were around, but it didn't occur to him how much of an affect it would have on him. Snatching up his gym shorts, t-shirt, and running shoes, Damon walked briskly to the bathroom. He slammed it shut behind him and heaved over the sink.
"God damn it." He swore and spat into the marble sink.
This constant loop of her wouldn't end. He was trying so hard to move on, but it seemed like the universe just wouldn't let him let go. He needed to. The thing was he didn't want to though. And the trying part, he knew he was failing miserably doing that too.
Looking up at the dark circles under his eyes, he shook his head in disgust. He hated the man he was turning back into, but couldn't resist him either. An eternal battle continued on with in. Damon crashed his palm down on the marble counter top and grunted. Breathing in and out like a raged bull, he told himself today was the day he would change. No more crying, no more sorrow, no more pain, no more drinking. He would move on. He would live today like he had many times before.
The mid-afternoon breeze felt refreshing upon his exposed and moist skin as he pumped his arms back and forth while his legs carried him further down the paved path. Damon released huffs of breaths feeling the heavy air on his lungs. The burning sensation in his calves and thighs indicated he was pushing his limit for the day, but was refusing to stop. He had an image to maintain and quitting wasn't going to help. Every stride he took strengthened his core and defeated the extra calories he absorbed due to his excess intake on a daily basis.
Damon pushed himself harder and his pace quickened. The music blaring in his ear buds filled his head with lyrics of rock song and he focused on the pavement ahead. Only a little bit further and he could be done, but it was easier said than done. His night had not been anything out of the ordinary, but was making it a bit more difficult than it should. Most mornings after drinking close to or exactly a fifth of whiskey he could function and force his ass out the door for his early morning run, however this morning he was struggling. He would give anything to be lying in his bed for an extra hour before heading off to work. Instead he was running and sweating profusely reeking of alcohol. It was making him queasy.
Flashes of over a dozen shots being consumed and mixed drinks disappearing in rapid succession appeared in his thoughts. Last night he had over done in it and now he was paying for it. His workout was being jeopardized because he just couldn't say no to another drink or shot. It was next to impossible to. He couldn't stop himself.
Only a few more feet and he reach his checkpoint for cool down. He could do this. Finding the last ounce of adrenaline he could at 6:30 in the morning he sprinted. His feet reached the invisible finish line and he slowed down. Every thing ached and he bent over panting feeling his head go heavy and his body swayed for a second.
God did he feel like utter shit. He couldn't complain though, he had done it to himself.
Pressure on his shoulder sent him jumping up and startled as he realized he wasn't alone. One of his ear buds ripped from his ear and if he couldn't already move from his intensive workout, he was immobile now. It has been about two weeks since he last encountered her and now here she stood before him.
"You okay?" Her concern for a fellow runner turned quickly to shock. Even he saw the recognition on her face of whom she was talking to.
Ever since his night of failure, he had not attempted to see her again. Realizing how pathetic it was to try to grab her attention that night and being shot down had sent him a clear message to just give up. Despite her beautiful assets, Damon knew she wasn't worth the trouble when he had plenty of other options willing to throw themselves at him. However, that didn't stop him from fantasizing from time to time.
"Um," she removed one her ear buds and swallowed hard. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Damon replied.
Just when he was finally forgetting about her she stood before him taunting him with her clingy running jacket and tight ass shorts. Why did she make effortless look so good?
The awkward tension set in quickly as they were both at a loss for words. Both recognizing the other, they were left unsure what to say. Was this a coincidence or was life just being a bitch reminding him of what he really wanted? Damon wiped the sweat off his forehead.
"Who's stalking who now?" He cracked under the pressure to speak and recalled her questioning him at the bar that night.
Elena shook her head and smirked. "I'm not stalking you." She said defensively.
"Oh really? I run this path every morning, 6:30 sharp. Never seen you around before." Damon spoke placing his hands on his hips. Slowly his stability was returning.
"That's because I just started running here...today." Elena told him.
"Likely story." He smirked.
Tightening her ponytail and placing her loose headphone back into her ear, she licked her lips and glared her eyes in his direction. "I saw you leaning over in what looked like pain. I'm sorry I bothered you." She shrugged her shoulders. "Seeing as you're fine, I'll be on my way."
Her feet tapped against the pavement and Damon realized once again she was retreating from him. The sarcasm he condoned seemed to only make her bitter. He knew exactly at that moment he was making an ass of himself and what he was about to do could make him even more of an ass, but he couldn't help it. Grabbing her arm, she whipped around appearing startled and annoyed.
"Excuse me." Elena snapped.
"I'm sorry." He apologized and removed his hand from her thin arm.
Elena sighed. Agitation was written all over her face.
"Look, the other night..." Damon explained and paused. He was so out of his element. What he was doing with her was way out of his league. "I didn't mean to give you the wrong impression. I just, I just liked talking to you earlier. I'm sorry if I came off too strong."
"I have a boyfriend." Elena deliberately stated.
The response given caught him off guard. He was apologizing in the simplest of terms. If he gave her the real reason why he sought after her that night he was sure she bolt in disgust, although her inquiry of him wasn't far off. Maybe he was more lucid than he thought.
"Okay." He nodded his head and stepped back. "Forget it then."
He knew from leaving the bar that night she was a lost cause. A pretty girl like herself was already claimed and this guy of hers seemed like a first rate jackass from what he saw. Damon bit his tongue from slipping his personal thoughts about her boyfriend before he made the situation any worse.
Turning around, he took off in a nice jog. His body ached and begged for him to walk, but he needed to get away from her before he said something he would regret. Barely knowing her at all, he felt it was his place somehow to dictate who she dated. She deserved better and any person who saw her tool of a boyfriend that night would probably agree. He seemed controlling, but who was he to judge. His life wasn't nearly as put together as most and his actions were anything but classy.
Behind him he swore he heard the sound of someone following him. Before he could look over his shoulder to see who it was, convinced it wouldn't be Elena, brown hair, olive skin, and doe like eyes were filling his gaze.
"Hey!" She shouted.
Damon slowed down and sated at her. She bit her lower lip and glanced around like she was searching for something to say.
"Maybe I came off too strong." She said exhaling loudly. "Maybe I gave you the wrong impression."
"What?" Damon asked.
"I liked talking to you too." Elena admitted. "And I know, especially at work I came come off the wrong way especially toward men."
Damon cocked his eyebrow.
"I work at a bar where I wear small clothing. I'm fully aware what impression I can give off to most men. I'm sorry if I led you to believe I was interested." She explains only making him feel more stupid for ever chasing after her in the first place. "It's not the you're not good looking or charming or anything, it's just..."
Holding his hand up, he stopped her from rambling. "I get it. You were just doing your job." He said trying to get the bitter taste out of his mouth. "And no offense but I don't mess with beautiful girls like yourself and boyfriends. I like to keep my face intact."
That was a straight up lie. He lost count of how many girls he had fucked who weren't single. Keeping his distance after the hook up was what saved his ass. Hit it and leave it was his motto. He didn't need the drama, which was something he couldn't always avoid though. Plenty of times he had been graced by the fist of another man hitting his jaw because he found out he screwed his girlfriend, fiancé, or wife. Damon tried to keep that from happening though and seeking out only the young and single.
The sound of her soft laughter brought him back from his guilt.
"So you weren't trying to get with me then?" Elena asked curiously.
Of course he was, but he wasn't about to tell her that. It appeared she was being more civil with him. He wasn't about to lose that. It seemed like it was a rare thing between them at the moment.
"I came to say hi, maybe buy you a drink, and talk." Damon swayed the truth. "Honestly."
Elena peered her eyes at him. "I'm sorry." She smiled. "I overreacted. I was busy and Matt…"
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who Matt was. He recalled her speaking to a man that night he saw her learning shortly after what his status with the girl he so deeply desired. Not only was he her boyfriend and a shitty one by the looks of it, but her boss as well. Somehow he couldn't imagine the two mixing well, but he remained mute on the matter.
"I get it." He stopped her. "No need to explain. Let's just forget our little quarrel and start over. I'm Damon."
Extending his right hand for hers to take, she hesitated before accepting his gesture. Soft and tiny her hand fit into his grasp. He gave it a short squeeze and proceeded to let go. What he wanted was to pull her in and kiss those perfect lips, but he fought the urge to do so. They were on common grounds and he didn't want to mess it up.
"Elena." She stated her name.
"Well Elena, I wish I could stay and chat, but I have to get going. Don't want to be late for work." Damon nodded his head and smirked. "Hope to see you around."
"Take care." Her tone turned friendly and it was pleasing to hear.
Before she took off though, he caught her staring. For a girl with a boyfriend he knew having wandering eyes were never a good sign, at least for the other person in the relationship. He welcomed this sign like the huge neon lit ones in Las Vegas. Something ignited in him and he gave her a small wave before facing the opposite direction and jogging slowly toward his home. Placing his headphones back into the nook of his ears, he skipped the current song playing and "Heat of the Moment" by Asia came blaring through the tiny speakers. The smirk upon his face grew and so did his pace. He couldn't find a more appropriate song to listen to at moment like this. Afterall, it did remind of that night at the bar and her sexy little outfit she was wearing.
Running his hands through his damp hair, Damon tried to breathe and prevent his hands and the rest of his body from constantly shaking. His morning run had been a struggle, but the ache in his muscles was a sign he could do this again. The old routine he had set was capable of returning despite the missing absence of her from some of his daily activities. He would just have to learn to live without her. He had done once more before even though he resented those days now.
The constant ringing of the receptionist phone from the hallway made him cringe. Even with his door shut he could still hear the normal noises of the corporate floor creeping into his office. Not to mention through the tiny barely closed shades he saw the curious and lingering eyes of those who passed. It was no surprise people were going to talk the moment he came back. Rushing into the building like hell on wheels, he tried to avoid making any conversation with his fellow co-workers knowing they would only want to apologize for what he had been through. He didn't need any more of that. The reminders had to stop. He was trying to move on.
Damon tapped his foot violently against the floor and he bit his lower lip hard trying to focus on his paperwork that had piled up over the past week, however one thing was on his mind. Throwing open his desk drawer he retrieved a set of keys and fumbled with them to open the locked drawer in his desk. His shaking was bad and he knew a way to settle it. The solution wasn't a healthy one, but it was the only thing he knew right now to cure it. He wanted this solution too.
Inside the locked drawer, he found his flask that he had filled from earlier in the morning. He told himself it was only for absolute necessary circumstances and right now the need for it grew more and more. Every time he thought he could quit his nasty habit, he found himself slipping farther into his past. The addict within him had awakened.
Bringing the flask to his trembling lips, he took a swig of it. The burning sensation eased him instantly and he relaxed in his chair. A knock on his door nearly made him jump out of his seat as he panicked to seal the flask up and threw it back into it's rightful place. Locking the drawer, he wiped his mouth and popped a mint in just enough time before whatever annoyance awaited him outside his office entered.
"Hey." Stefan said entering and closing the door behind him.
"Get out. I'm busy." Damon snapped.
"I can see you're in a chipper mood this morning." He replied.
"If you've come here to check up on me then beat it. I'm fine." His tone was anything but pleasant. "I showed up for work and I actually like to drown myself in it for once so if you don't mind showing yourself out."
"God you're an ass." Stefan remarked.
"And you're finally noticing this now?" Damon asked looking up at him. His hands were shuffling through piles of papers, but his mind was not rendering any bit of information that was written on them. He just wanted to appear busy to him so he would leave.
Stefan stepped deeper into his office and it made him tense. "I thought maybe you changed, but you'll always be same." He chuckled, but not in a humorous way.
"And you'll always be the pain in my ass little brother. Now please, if you just came up five stories to tell me something I don't already know then get the fuck out." He requested.
The perk of working in the same building as your family was not a perk at all. It had been almost three years since Stefan found his job after graduate school five levels below his office. Both working in different fields it kept them separated but close. He remembered a time when he looked forward to grabbing lunch with him knowing he loathed most of his co-workers. Stefan was the only one he could tolerate for more than an hour discussing every thing under the sun. Those were the days and the only reason he even enjoyed them was because of her. She helped them reconnect and now he felt that slipping away too.
"I came to ask you if you wanted to go to lunch?" His brother asked.
"I rather eat alone, thank you." He responded.
"Okay, knock it off!" Stefan shouted. They both froze knowing people outside his office were probably listening now. He walked closer to his desk and dropped his voice. "I'm sick and tired of this. I'm done feeling sorry for you because clearly you're doing enough of that on your own."
"What is that suppose to mean?" Damon questioned him.
"You know what I mean." Stefan growled. "Don't think I don't know what's going on. Some people may not see it, but I do. I'm your brother. I know when you're not taking care of yourself."
"I showered. I worked out. I'm as good as it gets after everything that has happened." He barked slamming the papers down on his desk.
Shaking his head, he spoke, "That's not what I'm getting at."
"Then what are you getting at?" His blood was boiling. It took every thing in his not to punch his brother square in the face.
"I think you know exactly what I'm getting at." Stefan said firmly. "Or shall we take a Breathalyzer right now and prove my point?"
"Fuck off!" Damon shouted and pushed himself back in his seat.
"I know what you've been doing. You may be fooling Ric, but not me." He snarled.
"And how are you so sure baby bro?" He asked.
"Blood shot eyes. You looked wrecked and not because you had a good work out." Stefan listed off. "And I can smell it. Bourbon was always your drink of choice."
Flinging up from his chair, Damon grabbed Stefan's collar. He heaved and contemplated giving him a black eye, but he didn't want to start rumors knowing he would leave the office with one. His emotions were mixed with hatred for his brother knowing what he had done and was doing, but also hatred toward himself. As careful as he thought he was, it was obvious he couldn't hide his addiction. Was Alaric playing dumb with him? Did he know too that he drinking on a daily basis again too? His last meeting he thought he had successfully won, but now he wasn't so sure after all.
"What are you going to do? Are you going to call up Ric and tell him I've gone down the deep end again and send my ass into rehab?" Damon asked trying to not sound desperate.
"I could." Stefan answered. "But I'm not."
"Great. Blackmail." He tossed him from his grasp. "Are you just waiting for the perfect moment to use it against then or what?"
"I'm not doing anything! No matter even if I tried to help you, its no use." Stefan sighed and his tone was almost sad. "The moment you picked up that drink after her funeral I knew you were a lost cause. I knew I was losing my big brother all over again."
Damon wished he stopped talking. The pain in his brother's eyes was awful and he hated to think he was causing it, but he didn't want to deal with this family shit at the moment. Walking away from Stefan, he shoved his hands in his pockets preventing him from reaching out to do anything drastic toward him again.
"You haven't lost me." He uttered.
"That's what you think." Stefan replied. "Look I'm not going to tell anyone even though I should. However, I want you to promise me you're done after today. If you need to get it all out of your system today than do it. Shit, I'll even buy you a drink myself, that is if you still want to come to lunch. I just need you to promise me you're done doing this to yourself. Please Damon."
The offer to feed into his addiction was so tempting. He would give anything for a drink right now and his own brother was offering it. This was dangerous though. He wanted to trust him, but he feared of Stefan running off after today and telling Alaric. The thought of AA meetings and possible rehab made his skin itch. There was only way he could go through with this without feeling like he was about to be stabbed in the back.
"Okay, you got a deal." Damon said offering his hand. "Let's shake on it."
Stefan gladly took his hand and shook it firmly. He forced a smile on his face and walked toward the door.
"I'll be back up here in two hours and we will go out for lunch." He told him.
"I'll meet you down in the lobby. No point in coming back up here." Damon said.
"I'll meet you back up here in two hours." Stefan repeated himself. "And I expect you to have every ounce of alcohol you have hidden in this office on your desk when I do return. You can drink it if you want since today is your last day, but I don't advise it."
Wanting to fight him on the matter, he kept silent.
"And if you don't clear out your office of everything, I'll know." His brother threatened. He was beyond serious and it was a side of him Damon rarely saw. It reminded him a lot of his father. Stefan upheld his qualities and mannerisms almost too much.
The door to his office shut and Damon instantly reopened the lock drawer.
