"I wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. But what could I tell her about those things that she didn't already know? I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race-that rarely do I ever simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant."
~The Book Thief~
X
Damon wasn't sure what he was supposed to expect when Marcella called him that morning. He usually didn't know what to expect when it came to his princess, she was always constantly surprising him. She'd gotten back from her trip a few days prior and had pretty much made sure to check in with him everyday. This morning however she'd called him early, demanded his presence at the Forbes residence, and then promptly hung up the phone.
He stared at the cellular device in his hand for a long moment. Trying to figure out what exactly had just transpired. Marcella had just called, demanded something of him and hung up. Damon could not even say that he was surprised. Well then. Lazily he stood from the couch, placing the glass that he'd been nursing down, he supposed he should go investigate what that was about.
It didn't take him long to arrive at her house. Damon forgo knocking using his invitation at his leisure, he opened the front door and was hit by the overwhelming scent of vanilla and baking spices. His brow hitches up at that. "Marcella?" He calls out, slightly hesitant.
"We're in the kitchen!" She yells cheerily. Damon rolls his eyes at the tone and ambles slowly in the direction of her chipper voice.
In the kitchen he finds Marcella and her older sister dressed in aprons. Marcella has flour dusted over her nose and clothes, while Caroline looks more or less completely clean. Both blondes smile at him, but his blonde bounds over to him as she does throws her arms around his neck completely encasing with not to mention getting flour on his clothes and kisses his cheek. "It's officially fall!" She tells him, joy and childish whimsy dancing in her mouth.
Caroline snickers at her sister and the display. Her sister's dark haired friend threw a slightly annoyed look her way but she only shrugged at him. Nothing she could do now to save him from Marcella's vice grip and what she wanted from him. Which as it turned out was for him to assist in making cookies with them for the women's shelter on main. "That doesn't explain why you called me this morning and demanded my presence princess." She can hear him saying to Marcella, a sense was exasperated fondness from his words.
"Fall cookies Damon! Cookies that are specifically for fall! It's amazing, and I want you to help. We making them for the women's center, and then for some of the local mom and pop places." Marcella rambles as she drags Damon further into the kitchen. Caroline throws a wave at him as he passes where she'd set up to make icing.
He sighs at the back of her head, throws a glare at Caroline for extra measure and shakes his head. "I suspect I don't have a choice." Damon is met by a chime of 'nope' the 'p' popping as it's spoken and a mischievous smile. Marcella was something else. He can't help but to roll his eyes.
Well then, it looked like he was making cookies today. He shakes his head. She smiled vivaciously at him. At her apparent victory. Although what she thinks she's won he doesn't know.
After cookies had been made and delivered Caroline declared that she had some stuff to do and left the two alone. Marcella nodded knowing that the stuff care wanted to get done was for the upcoming school fundraiser. She threw herself across her bed completely worn out from the baking extravaganza that had previously occurred. Damon snickered at her from the doorway. Like the complete jerk he was.
"So, now that Barbie is gone what's the real reason you so kindly asked me over here?" He questions folding his arms over his chest. Marcella rolls over on the bed so she's looking into the ceiling. Not before making a face at him that is. How dare he presume such a notions.
Maybe she'd just wanted to make cookies. Maybe she wanted to plot the destruction of everything. Regardless it didn't give him such a right to assume the worst of her. She didn't always have anything ulterior motive for the things she did… most of the time.
Damon rolls his eyes and throws himself onto the bed next to her. She nuzzles into his side as if he were nothing more than a pillow. Or a snuggly teddy bear, and not the bloodthirsty neck snapping predator he is. It probably didn't help his case that when it came to her he had feelings, gross overprotective sibling feelings, but feelings.
"What happens to me once you get your girl?" She mumbles shyly into his side. As if she was truly afraid of his answer. Marcella loves him too much, she doesn't want to lose him, she doesn't want to hurt him. Depending on his answer here she knew that she would.
Katherine wasn't in the tomb, she'd never been in the tomb. Marcella couldn't keep letting him chase a ghost dream. She had no love for the second doppelganger, and she had no desire to protect the bitch. The teen was of the firm belief that Katerina deserved everything that was coming to her. Damon raised his brow at her then, affectionately pushing her away from him. To just stare at her for a moment, trying to gage the look in her eyes the uncertain curiosity in her voice.
"Are you worried? Jealous princess?" She buries her head into the side of his shirt embarrassed, as if trying to hide herself. Shield herself from the next moment. Hating herself for what she was about to do. Marcella burrowed further into his side, prolonging the inevitable.
Damon was going to find out one way or another just how much of a bitch Katherine was. She didn't have to tell him, know one knew her secret. No one knew that she'd known everything about them before ever meeting them. There wasn't anything she had to do, she didn't have to tell him, she didn't have to try so hard to be any of their friends. Marcella could have sat back and watched everything fall into place, turned a blind eye to all the pain and suffering heading their way. But that just wasn't her.
She hated seeing those she loved in pain. Marcella loved Damon, he was hers. Had been from the very beginning. The words fall from her mouth, puncturing the silence like potent acid. "Katherine's not in the tomb." Even if she had wanted to she couldn't take them back now that they'd been spoken. Words were sometimes the most violent of weapons, inflicting excruciating pain the cause of undisputed suffering.
Without a doubt those words full of such powerful conviction were not at all what he had been expecting her to say. It takes Damon a moment to process them, when he does he reacts contemptuously. Shoving her away from him violently. Marcella actually a falls off the bed from the forcefulness of his actions she hits the ground with a loud thunk and a painful whimper.
"What did you just say!?" He snarls through gritted teeth, clenched jaw. His deep blue eyes darkening. Veins ribbing at the flesh under his eyes.
Marcella sucks in a breath and tries to push back the terrified whimper in her throat. Her nexts words catching slightly on her lips, biting at her tongue. She can't stop them from falling out of her mouth, positively vomiting them into existence. Push themselves past her her tremblings lips. "She's not in the tomb, she's never been in the tomb Damon. Katherine manipulated you."
It's entirely the wrong thing to say. Damon lunges at her all previous feelings of protectiveness gone replaced by nothing but malicious intent. His hand is around her throat, nails digging into her flesh. Drawing blood from the sheer force of his grip. Marcella winces from the pain, her back digging into the carved wood of the footboard. She tries desperately to loosen his grip on her neck.
"Damon." It's raspy, spoken in urgency, as her consciousness starts to slip from the lack of oxygen to her brain. His grip tightens.
"Damon!" She tries again, her voice as forceful as she can muster. His dark eyes narrow on her, squirming beneath his hand, shuddering in fear. The metallic smell of warm blood fresh in the room. Dripping down her throat as her pleading eyes bore into him.
Damon snarls at her then, pulling her up by the neck, the fear in her eyes doing nothing but egging him on. It would be so simply, just a flick of his wrist and he could make her pay for spewing such lies. The small part of his humanity that she'd etched herself into was the only thing that prevented him from killing her in the heat of the moment. He dropped her gracelessly, she fell crumpled to the hardwood floor her own hands going to rub at her neck. Gasping for air.
He expected her to glare up at him. Expected for her to curse him out, and scream and tell him to leave. Damon expected a lot of things to happened following the assault. Fear, anger, hate. Expected her to for once be a normal fucking person and lash out right back at him. And he'll give her some credit, she does glare at him, eyes rimmed red with tears staining their corners. Sure there's heat in her gaze, but not the hate and the fear he'd expected.
Her stupid compassionate eyes are brimming with heated pity. Scornful remorse, followed by disappointment. She wasn't angry. Wasn't screaming, or crying, or begging. Marcella's whole being exudes resentful disappointment. He takes a step back as the reality of his actions hit him. The truth of what he'd almost done to the only person who had considered him a friend.
Regret settles in. But he won't apologize because he's not sorry. She shouldn't have said that to him. Shouldn't have uttered such blasphemous words to him. "Dick." Her voice is raspy as she speaks, words croaking slightly on her lips. Marcella glares at him as she struggles to pull herself onto the end of her bed.
She should be furious at him for acting so impulsively, for trying to kill her. But she can't say that she hadn't expected the explosive reaction from her emotionally unstable vampire puppy. Her throat feels like it's on fire, the trail of blood sliding down her neck it sticky to the feel warm against her suddenly frigid skin. In her head she was already thinking of everything Damon was going to have to do to make this up to her. Because she wouldn't be letting it go so easily.
He's still standing in front of her, his expression less murderous and slightly more mortified than it had been a moment before. She narrows her eyes and pins him with the most disappointed look she can mange at that moment. Trying to kill people who upset you was not the right way to deal with feelings.
"What is wrong with you?" He can't help but to wonder once it was apparent that she would not be reacting the way he thought she should. Marcella rolled her eyes and laid back.
That was a good question. One she really didn't have an answer for.
XOXOX
Hey guys! Just thought I should probably give you all a new update or whatever. I've been super busy in the last few weeks, I'm participating this year in Inktober and have been giving most of my focus to that since the start of October. I will try to do better but I can't make any promises.
Anyway thank you so much for reading this chapter! And also a shout out to all of you guys who read and then reviewed the last chapter! You guys are the best!
I hope you all have a wonderful rest of the day!
Sincerely, LaRae
