Hello Readers! Just rushed through this chapter. An odd confrontation between our moody and rude heroine and the boy scout of a Salvatore, Stefan with our favorite badboy Damon as an captivated audience. Hopefully, you will all like this chapter and please do tell me your thoughts on it. Please, review. Happy Reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries...
Dying Once, Living Twice
Chapter Four
Damon had decided on watching the show in silence and enjoying it immensely, but most importantly he wanted to see Beatrice Blackwell interact with his little brother. She was sure to give up something about herself, weakness or any significant information and at the same time agitate the hell out of Saint Stefan. It had been painfully obvious and no matter how much Stefan tried to act nonchalant that this woman had been on his mind too. Saint Stefan was worried and more than a little disturbed.
So he walked around tinkering things here and there. The shop really had a hell of a lot of strange things. He eyed a tiny golden ballerina charm on a delicate looking matching golden chain draped around the neck of a seriously creepy red-haired freckled porcelain doll. He made a face at the extremely creepy doll. That doll was what nightmares were made of, he shuddered.
He moved along and found a tiny wooden box with Celtic knots carved on it and glass stones embedded on it. As he tried to pry open the locked box, he heard the telltale tinkle of the bell above Miss Blackwell's shop door. A smug smirk spread his lips wide as he settled himself to watch the assuredly entertaining confrontation that was happening before him.
He eyed his little brother shuffle into the shop and make his way towards the woman of their fascination. Stefan looked so nervous that it was insulting to vampires all over the world, Damon scoffed with utter disgust. How that bumbling fool of a vampire was his brother, he'd never know. This was exactly why he didn't like admitting that Stefan was his little brother. The way he dragged his feet to reach that sinfully beautiful woman was downright shameful.
The elusive Miss Blackwell stared at the new visitor in her shop with slightly lowered green-gray eyes and long black lashes, a Mona Lisa smile etched on her plump red lips and an ever so tilted head. As soon as Stefan stopped in front of her, his eyes roaming wildly over her, his mouth was left agape. She was both their Elizabeth and someone else entirely. Damon resisted the urge to cackle madly. Just because he hated to be baffled didn't mean that he didn't enjoy watching his little brother being confused out of his little Elena-loving farm animal hunting mind.
Her voice was all silk bed sheets and dark candle light balmy nights as she greeted his bumbling fool of a brother, "Hello, Stefan. It has been a while although it is the first time you have met me. Shall we do introductions or will your eavesdropping count?"
Damon was man enough to admit that she had the voice to heat up the blood of any heterosexual man to sizzling temperatures. But it didn't even touch his brother. Damon frowned, sometimes he really doubted his brother, whatever happened to his man-card?
Stefan finally snapped his mouth shut and gulped audibly. Then he proceeded to drop his eyes to his shoes and admit bashfully, "I…I don't know what exactly to make of this."
Damon sneered to himself, what a fucking schoolboy! But the enchanting woman in the room simply smiled enigmatically at the green-eyed Salvatore and teased with a pouty smile, "Oh, you know exactly what to make of this. You need to know, well, to be more precise, you need to establish whether or not I am a threat to Ms. Gilbert, your brother or you? Am I close enough?"
Damon grinned, all teeth and wickedness, wasn't she a blunt little thing! And so saucy! He definitely liked her. His brother was left gaping at her like a goldfish and he loved it.
After a few humiliating minutes of silence, it seemed like his little brother finally remembered that he was a vampire after all. Stefan's drooping shoulders straightened up and he targeted her with a cold unwavering glare. And what a badass Miss Blackwell was, staring at the glaring vampire with an amused bright smile and equally unblinking eyes that twinkled with mischief, eyed Damon the pair with nothing but wicked glee in abundant.
Stefan, the suddenly self-discovered vampire asked her, blankly, a threat invisible but looming about them, "Then why don't you give me a straight answer and all this will be over?"
Damon barely held in his guffaw. All this will be over? Sheesh, did Stefan need a lesson in Interrogation 101 and Intimidation For Dummies or what?
Apparently, the owner of the quaint little shop thought the same thing. She gave Stefan the most impish smile and pouted at him, "But where is the fun in that then?"
Damon swore and his gaze darkened. That smile made his palm itch to land a stinging swat on her lush bottom. His eyes wandered over his little brother and zing, it had a similar effect on Saint Stefan as well. Stefan zeroed in on her with a gaze that was far too intense and in no way innocent and asked her in a voice that was far too soft, smooth and dark, "Is that what you're looking for? Fun?"
She threw her head back in a slight laugh. It did not escape Damon at all the way Stefan's eyes stared hungrily over her pale, smooth, long and elegant throat or the fact that the hungry look was immediately washed off with a more awed look as Stefan finally found that achingly familiar and all-too teasing birthmark both Beatrice Blackwell and the dead Elizabeth Blackwell shared. Damon's hands tightened into fists; he didn't like anyone staring at that mark a century and half ago and he sure as hell didn't like it now.
Her fingertips slowly caressed the glass counter as she said matter-of-factly, "Well, no, but I certainly don't say no to fun when it walks right through my front door and you do look like a fun guy, Stefan. At least that's what the memories of Elizabeth say so."
Stefan slapped his hands gently on the same glass counter, looking into her eyes, he snapped passionately, "This is getting ridiculous and you have no idea how dangerous of a situation you are in."
The return of the prodigal hero, scoffed Damon to himself. Sometimes Saint Stefan was just too damned predictable.
She grinned wide and countered rapidly with dripping thick syrupy sweetness, "You mean how your brother is a mostly unstable almost psychotic vampire who has no care for any living creature and you being a man who loathes killing yet you are capable of it anyway? Yes, I know of it and plenty about it."
Damon didn't know whether to be insulted or flattered but by the flabbergasted and completely crushed look on Stefan's face, Damon decided to go with being flattered. The girl had a way with words; he had to admit that if nothing else. Not to forget how absolutely spot on she was with her rather vivid descriptions. Damon made a mental note of being particularly favorable to her in the future just for her consistent performance of pulling the wind right out of Saint Stefan's sails and making him trip over his own noble and oh-so-high-and-mighty words.
She proceeded to give Stefan a smirk so arrogant that Damon felt an overwhelming urge to press her to the nearest hard surface, preferably the wall behind her to do unmentionable things to her. Maybe that would wipe that smirk right off her face.
She continued in a voice that reminded Damon of cold silk, "The thing is, I know how to handle this particular situation. The solution is rather simple actually and that is to entirely exclude myself from any and all of the circumstances that would pertain you two. You two stay out of my way and I stay out of yours. Take my word for it, gentlemen, I don't care about any of you. The Salvatores are of no significance to me."
As soon as those last eight words left her pretty red lips, Damon's whole body stiffened and he was instantly burning with a fire. She would regret ever saying that and he would be the one to make sure of that, Damon told himself with a cold logic and a steely determination. How could she possibly keep herself away from him when he would be the one chasing her down? He didn't care if she wanted Stefan around her or not, in fact it pleased him to know that she wanted to be as far away as possible from Stefan. But him, Damon Salvatore, she could never ignore nor avoid. It was the simple truth. He would take great pleasure in proving her wrong.
There was thick silence between them for moments before Stefan managed to compose himself and considered her words seriously. He looked into her eyes intently before he asked her, his voice soft and soothing, "So, you say you aren't a threat?"
As Beatrice Blackwell stared into Stefan Salvatore's beseeching eyes, Damon sneered at the couple. His fingers itched to throw the surely expensive glass bauble he found at the back of Stefan's head. Stefan the Boy Scout.
She answered solemnly, her voice equally soft and compelling, "Not to you, your brother or Miss Gilbert. Your secrets are safe with me as well, considering the rather disturbing fact that they are from the memories of my past life. Do you believe me, Stefan Salvatore?"
Even from the distance Damon knew exactly what made Stefan so tongue tied and his mind fumble. Stefan was caught in the gaze of Beatrice Blackwell which belonged to their Elizabeth once upon a time. Stefan was looking at their Elizabeth's ghost. After a moment or two he managed a somewhat shaky smile and answered politely, "Of course. As you said, you aren't a threat to me."
There was a sudden spark between them and Damon watched as her eyes lit up in something that promised great wickedness. She lowered her long dark lashes at Stefan coquettishly and whispered darkly, her red lips caressing each word into a taunt and a challenge, "Liar. You don't believe a word out of my mouth. Be honest about it, Stefan. You want to make sure for yourself, which I admit I find a very admirable trait. Doubting always saves one from getting a knife stuck in their backs."
It took some serious balls to call a vampire upon their pretenses that boldly and the bluntly. Yet she did it and each word had been nothing but the truth. She had stumped Stefan speechless. Honestly, the web she had weaved for Stefan with her words was something quite impressive to Damon. He had rarely met a woman who could manipulate so subtly and with such finesse and delicacy.
Her candor was without doubt attractive and it worked like a potent aphrodisiac. It always did on vampires. It was always so thrilling to find a challenge in prey. Damon was no exception when it came to it. He felt so very drawn to her. To be specific, she was rapidly becoming his newest obsession and his distraction; he would admit that much and it was entirely her fault. She was making herself irresistible.
The way she was toying with Stefan, it was the way of a seasoned seductress. One who knew how to play the game and that too with great flair. He could feel that familiar bitter and hot wave of rivalry washing over him as he watched her use her charms on his idiot younger brother. Stefan had no appreciation for games the kind she was playing and ironically Stefan received the attention of entirely too may worthy women. Damon wanted to push Stefan away and be the centre of her attention. Be the one she would weave her webs around. She was after all going to be his latest play thing so very soon and Damon detested the very concept of sharing. He was frankly, possessive like that.
But as he watched her cloudy green eyes darkening with unspoken promises and as his blood heated accordingly, he was hit with a heavy and bitter realization all over again. She might look like his Elizabeth, but she wasn't anything like her. His Elizabeth didn't have it in her to deliver such a look at any man let alone Stefan. She had been too innocent and without a guile.
Stefan was lost in his own thoughts as he stared at Beatrice and that did not sit well with Damon either. He had never liked sharing Elizabeth and her honest and pure affection with Stefan and there was no way in hell was he going to let Stefan usurp what little seemingly honest flirtation or attention Beatrice was going to spare. It simply did not fit according to Damon's plans.
After a few minutes of intense studying of the woman before him, Stefan concluded and questioned with equal honesty as she had displayed, "You are very…jaded. Why the cynicism or should I really be suspicious of you? Are you hiding something?"
There was a deeply amused smirk playing on her lips, but her eyes gave Stefan such demeaning look that Damon couldn't help but snort out loud. Damon just knew that the woman was about to shower Stefan with hundreds vervain laced needles of insults. She lectured Stefan with a voice that was soft, yet each word leaving her mouth ridiculing him, "That is a very silly question to ask someone who is hiding something. Stefan, I hide a lot of things, everyone has things to hide, and its human nature. That's how we are built and becoming vampires does not spare you from this sadly very human trait. In fact, being a vampire enhances this trait by multiple times. I have secrets and so do you. But you may rest assured that I will not say a word to anyone about the Salvatores being vampires. Doesn't exactly work in my best interest."
Ah, she was quite famous for that. Beatrice Blackwell did nothing that did not work in her own interests. Anybody who lived in Mystic Falls knew that much. That was the first thing both Damon and Stefan had learned while they were 'investigating' the infamous Miss Blackwell. Damon had to admit, it was true. She did not benefit in any manner by revealing their secret. She would be entirely too exposed if she did attempt to expose them. She would be under the heavy scrutiny of the town's people who would finally find a weakness in her and the threat of death from the hands of the Salvatore brothers would loom over her. So far she had nothing to gain by spilling their secrets, Damon thought, but that did not mean that an advantageous proposal would not present itself to her in exchange for the knowledge she held. All the more reason to keep a close eye on her every action; her fate to be his play thing was sealed tighter than ever, Damon smirked darkly.
Stefan gave her a tight lipped smile, running his eyes over at Damon quickly and giving her a meaningful look, he commented with silent implications, "So I heard."
Damon grinned wickedly. His little brother was not pulling in punches anymore. He was giving her exactly what she had been giving him so far. For each of her brutal truths and prodding, he was offering the same and for each of her implications of knowing more than she should, he was doing the same. He was referring to the conversation she had with Damon a little while ago. It was true that she had told Damon the same thing just minutes before. She had told him also that she had no intention of ever spreading the word about their vampirism to anyone simply because it would not benefit her in any manner.
She mock-gasped and teased with a sly smile dancing on her lips, "You little eavesdropper, you. Elizabeth would be surprised by her noble Stefan's underhanded trick."
Damon sneered, Elizabeth's noble Stefan? Stefan was Elizabeth's nothing. But it was true that the Stefan from today would shock the hell out of their sweet little Elizabeth. Damon never liked sharing Elizabeth with anyone let alone with his own little brother. Elizabeth had been friends with Stefan but it was Damon who had her heart and Damon took great pride in that fact once upon a time. He loved living the life of Elizabeth's hero.
Stefan gave her a wry smile and commented smoothly, "But you are not surprised, since you aren't Elizabeth. I was just making sure of it on my own. I needed to hear it from your mouth."
She shook her head and retorted, "No need to explain. As I already said, I admire you for doing so."
Stefan ran his finger over a small and dainty looking silver box embedded with tiny pearls. He took a moment and then asked curiously, "So how does this work?"
She blinked owlishly twice. With a slight tilt of her head, a wicked twist of her lips she retorted saucily, "You have to be a tad more specific Stefan, I am not a mind reader and you are standing in a shop full of things that work."
Stefan had the grace to look at least a little flustered and more than a little annoyed. He drawled out slowly, "This whole reincarnation business, how does it work?"
Damon resisted the urge to clap enthusiastically for Stefan. His brother had finally asked something important. Damon was more than curious about this reincarnation business. How was it that his Elizabeth came back and why was she like that? Or how much of Elizabeth was left in that sinful body for that matter? He smirked darkly, his ickle-little brother was finally of some good use.
There was a soft smile etched on her lips as she shook her head lightly at Stefan. But that look did not remain on her face for long. Her cold mask made an appearance once more as she finally answered Stefan. There was cold detachment, a generous dose of patronization with a side of smooth arrogance in her voice as she shrugged, "Well, simple really. Elizabeth was born, she lived, she died and years down the line, I was born, I live and so far I am not dead yet. Simplicity at its best, Stefan."
A groan escaped Damon's lips, frustration. The woman was a master at invoking that particular brand of emotion. His hands itched to pin her down somewhere, look into her eyes with his demonic darkened eyes and bare his fangs at her. He was sure to get his answers then.
But Stefan with all of his saintly patience calmly persisted, "Seems complicated to me, please be a bit more explanative."
She rolled her eyes at him and looked at Stefan as if he were a truly unpleasant child with an equally unreasonable demand. She explained, "I just have her memories, not her personality. I don't share her opinions, her feelings, her way of living, her morals, none of it. Basically, after her death, her soul went to the recycling bin."
Damon sneered at the pair before him. If that wasn't the most disrespectful thing he had ever heard about Elizabeth from her, he didn't know what was! She had not a single shred of respect for the life of his Elizabeth and that made Damon's blood boil.
Stefan stared unblinkingly at Beatrice. Finally, he gave a nod and concluded, "Still complicated. But I get the basic idea of it. You are Beatrice Blackwell and just happen to have Elizabeth's memories."
She sneered, pointing a finger at Stefan, "Yes, and twenty points to Gryffindor for an excellent answer with great depths of understanding of the study material."
A strange mix of affection, longing and nostalgia hit Stefan's face as he stared at the last living Blackwell. He uttered softly, "You do look a lot like her."
She snorted and corrected him, "Salvatore, I look exactly like her."
With a curiosity that was utterly bittersweet he asked her, his lips stretched into an affectionate smile, "So, she really would have…"
She interrupted him mid-question, "Looked like I do if she had a fashion sense, caring parents, a strong backbone and had a little more time to grow? Yes."
Damon sneered at his booted foot. Stefan was just punishing himself by wondering about the what-ifs. What good would it do by asking about how Elizabeth would have looked like if she had grown up and actually had the chance to live? She was dead and that was the end of it all.
Stefan shook his head in awe, not the least bit bothered by her taunts or offended by her tone. He breathed out, "This is unbelievable. Do you really have all her memories?"
She gave a sharp nod and confirmed with a frown and voice full of irate disgust, "Yes. It's like knowing every line and scene of a terrible train wreck of a movie and having it committed to your memory. The worst part of it all is that the movie is from the point of view of a weak, dreamy-eyed, naïve, spineless and gullible girl."
Damon's face fell into a hardened cold mask. Every muscle in his body went rigid and he fought his body and instincts to rip her throat out. How dare she?
Stefan jumped into a quick and firm defense of his late friend. He snapped back, "She wasn't weak or spineless."
The smile of someone who was dragging a piece of string in front of a cat lit up on her face. She pointed a finger at Stefan's nose and drawled out with relish, "Ah, but she was naïve, dreamy-eyed and gullible then."
Stefan jutted out his chin at her and argued back, unwilling to give up on defending his dead friend or letting this reincarnated version of said dead friend bad mouth her, "So she was! There is nothing wrong with that. She was innocent and those qualities only made her a good person."
With a slight smile at her lips, she took a piece of pale pink paper from the counter. She nodded her head once at Stefan and agreed, "There is no denying that. Elizabeth was a person who wouldn't hurt a fly; I know it because I know every last memory of hers."
She returned her attention to the piece of paper that she held in her hands. Slowly, precisely and very daintily she started folding the paper. She pointed out, not looking up at Stefan even once, "But she was abused, neglected and always brow-beaten at her home at a daily basis. That does things to one's personality."
Stefan swallowed the lump in his throat. He remembered very well the life Elizabeth had lived and the horrors she had to face daily that no child should ever face especially in the safety of their own homes. Every word leaving her lips were bringing back unpleasant memories of little helpless Elizabeth suffering alone.
Damon was frozen stiff where he stood. She was talking about things that Elizabeth herself never liked talking about. She had only confided in Damon and that was how their friendship and secret keeping worked. She was bringing up forbidden things just to make a point. His curiosity about her logic prevented him from throwing the glass bauble he held at her; but her words, she had no right to bring up those horrible memories. She had no right to bring his Elizabeth's pain, tears and humiliation to light.
Her concentration remained solely focused on the paper she folded as he continued speaking, her voice soft and mellifluous, "She was insecure. She was weak because she didn't stand up for herself, which I don't blame her for since it was her parents who made it their personal goal to make her feel powerless and always helpless. She was spineless because she was always scared."
Oh, she was a bitch of the highest order. The most insensitive human he had ever come across and he would take such sweet pleasure in making her live all sorts of humiliations before he let her have the mercy of dying, decided Damon as he glared hard at her. Stefan himself had dropped all etiquette and his virtuous ways and was too glaring at the woman spouting off personal things about their dead friend in nothing but utter conceit.
Both brothers had only one thought in their heads. How could she pick at the weaker aspects of their sweet Elizabeth's personality? There were so many greater qualities to her and said qualities were usually so rare in humans. Every atom in Stefan's body reared up its head to defend Elizabeth while Damon's mind went on more of the rip her throat out mode.
But before either brother could do any of that, she continued on both speaking and slowly folding the paper she held, unperturbed, "Sure, she did love and she loved freely. She saw the good in things and people. It is very unique and quite rare to find a person with such positive outlook to life when they have been raised in such a negative and dark environment. She was special, true, but she wasn't a survivor and you know it."
She ended her statement, simply and looked right into Stefan's eyes, daring him to contradict her. Arrogance wafted off of her, thought Damon. All of a sudden Beatrice Blackwell became the ugliest thing Damon had ever laid his eyes on.
Stefan staying true to his dead friend did not respond to that. He would not join this woman's quest to dishonor his Elizabeth in any manner. He sneered back, attempted to divert the entire line of conversation, "So we all know about Elizabeth. That is not the matter of significance here. What we want to know about is you, because that is the mysterious part."
She rolled her eyes at Stefan, continued focusing on the piece of paper she was still folding and refolding and replied matter-of-factly, "Both of you already know the basics about me. I am Beatrice Blackwell, twenty-two years old, only child; deceased parents and I run a pawn shop as well as own a few properties in Mystic Falls where I also happen to reside. What more is there to know and how do I become significant or for that matter even exist in the chaotic world of the Salvatore brothers and their drama-seeking lives?"
Damon seethed at her, his icy-blue eyes glaring daggers at her. He certainly did not have the patience to deal with her like his Saint of a brother did. He would have already pinned her to the nearest surface, torn open a wound or two or ten on her body and gotten what he needed out of her.
Stefan patiently eyed her. He replied softly, honestly, his eyes unwavering and beseeching, "Curiosity."
She snorted dismissively. Her words slipped softly, taunts, statements, accusations and warnings all rolled in one, "Interference, not curiosity. Also, questioning me repetitively, being as subtle as you think you are while trying to interrogate me, or poking at me time and time again for me to slip my supposedly dastardly motives will only be futile. It is all for nothing, Stefan. There really is no grand scheme behind me or the unfortunate circumstance of me inheriting my ancestor's memories. I really am not a threat."
Damon rolled his eyes at her. Oh yes, that was not suspicious at all and it completely put them at ease, sneered Damon internally. Something itched in him fiercely to just give her a comeback or two. But this was Stefan's turn to play the good cop and he just had to hold back. For the moment.
Damon couldn't help but smile bitterly at Stefan's next words. His little brother proceeded to target Miss Blackwell with his infamous Prince Charming routine. The deceptively soft voice coaxing at the clearly inattentive woman, "Why do you think that we think the worst of you? Maybe we just want to make friends."
She looked up, her eyelashes fluttering rapidly against her cheeks, blinking again and again as if to process what she had just heard. Then her eyes went wide, her cheeks flushed just a little flattering pink and her pretty mouth went open in a little 'o'. Seeing her being affected by Stefan's obnoxiously obvious play made Damon feel almost insulted.
She asked, incredulity dripping from her tone like thick honey, "Friends as in, what's my favorite color? The name of my first crush? My favorite movie of all time?"
Stefan shrugged and replied with a beguiling smile, "Yes, why not?"
It was then that Damon smirked widely. Apparently, the patent Prince Charming routine of Stefan's did not work on this woman at all. His ego preened at that fact.
One of her dark brows arched up high on her forehead as she sneered almost impassively, "I rather question why you would want that. But I know for a fact being friends isn't your motive at all. After all, the stalking and the interrogation kind of say otherwise."
But the ever persistent bug that was called Stefan persisted on, Damon sneered internally. Stefan didn't waver, instead he continued to hold the woman's gaze and countered, "We could stop with the stalking if you were open to having conversations like this with us."
The woman let out a soft chuckle at that, which according to Damon just made Stefan puff up like a preening proud peacock. As if he made her laugh. She was laughing at him, mocking him. Stupid Stefan.
Damon watched in awe as she berated Stefan with such politeness that it almost felt like she was actually coaxing Stefan into her view of things, "Stefan, the stalking doesn't bother me. The fact of the matter is that I have no interest in being friends with any of the Salvatores. You see, as history stands witness and Elizabeth's memories prove further, friendship with the Salvatores never end well for one. Besides, you two should stay as farther away from me as possible. I am a great target for gossip and morbid fascination for the town's folks. Being around me will only put you two in the brightest of spot lights and keep you two from flying under the radar."
Stefan reasoned on, his eyes solemn with determination, "What you are saying is true and very logical, but it still doesn't ease off the fascination you invoke in us."
She sighed with exasperations and counter-reasoned, her eyes flashing with a fierce temper, "You two have your own agendas for being in this town. You two will fulfill it and eventually leave town, that's how it works. I on the other hand, live in this town. I don't plan on leaving, ever. So, you two just will have to leave me alone for your own benefit. If there is something iffy about me, you are bound to find out soon enough. I do business all over town, so every little action of mine is always publically broadcasted either by my own hands or by that of the local rumor mills. Easy to keep track of me this way. "
Stefan gave in. His eyes dropped as he let out a huge sigh. He murmured almost tiredly, "You have put a lot of thought in this. Frankly, I am impressed."
She smirked darkly at Stefan. Her attention back onto the folded piece of paper in her hands, she said pointedly, "Hmmm….This couldn't be the first time a person who has been stalked by a vampire says to said vampire to stay away from her. You shouldn't be impressed."
Stefan's reply was sharp, immediate and completely defensive, "This is not the same thing."
A dark taunting smile etched itself on her face. Damon thought she looked like a shark that just caught the first taste of fresh blood in the water. Rookie mistake, Stefan, Damon berated in his head.
She jeered, sneered, mocked and goaded fiercely, "Why not? Because you don't have me backed against a wall in a dark and isolated alley somewhere and don't have your fangs clamped down on my throat? I am not as ignorant as to believe that either of you is incapable of it if I were to be of the slightest of threats to you. Or that maybe one of you two might get a bit thirsty and decide on taking a long quenching drink off of me."
Damon couldn't help it. His fangs ached at the very picture she painted with her words. Oh the things he could and would do to her! It was as if she had lit a fire in him. Oh, this one was so, so entertaining. He wouldn't be bored at all.
Stefan, on the other hand, looked pale, almost nauseous, unnerved and horrified by her words. He gave her his most disappointed look and replied sadly, "I thought we were coming to an understanding."
She gave Stefan a Cheshire grin. She elegantly placed a small and very beautifully folded pale pink paper butterfly on the cold glass counter between them. Stefan couldn't stop staring at the little piece of origami before him. It had all but entranced him.
Standing up with a regal air, all the emotions her face had portrayed not moments ago disappeared into a cold, hard mask. She declared callously, a deafening finality ringing out, "We are. We came to an understanding where you don't take me for a naive little fool and I never forget what you two are and while our understanding of that holds, you two do not bring yourselves to attention and associate with me and I live my life how I have always lived it, Salvatore-free."
