The next day, Emily is on her way to college, and she gets the wild idea to drop by Damon's first.
She went back and forth with the thought till she decided she simply would, with a valid excuse to leave quickly if needs be.
She parks outside and heads for the door.
Before stopping herself, she knocks.
Then she could hear blaring music from inside. Her brows furrowed curiously, when Stefan opened up. "Emily. Hi," he warmly greets.
He expected she'd drop by sooner or later,
but now wasn't the best of times, honestly.
"Hi. Stefan," she smiles back, now seriously wondering about the music that was quite loud. She tries to look past him to see what was going on. "Is Damon here?" she asks.
"Um…Now's…not really-"
"Who's at the door, Stef!" yells Damon from the living room. Stefan sighs, moving aside warily.
Inside, were three girls, all in mostly their undergarments, dancing, and Damon, with his arm around a brunette's shoulder, his shirt left open and a wide grin on his lips.
Emily subconsciously steps in, eyes wide and heart-racing.
His grin seems to grow upon seeing her. "Emily!" he happily exclaims, waving at her as he releases the smiling girl from his hold. He zooms to stand opposite the shocked Gilbert, only to shock her further by pulling her into him and crashing his lips onto hers. She moans in surprise and Stefan's eyes widen, unsure how to react, till Damon releases her with a: "Mwah!…You are so much tastier than," he turns and points at the group of girls dancing and lounging on the couches, "all of this," he says, gesturing vaguely with his hands and balancing from one foot to the other. Emily is still trying to process what had happened, and catch her breath, as Stefan heads to turn the music down. She picks up on the heavy stench of alcohol Damon was emitting.
"You are…very drunk. He's drunk, right?" Emily asks Stefan frantically as he walks back.
"Very," he nods assuringly.
"Hello. I'm right here," Damon states irritably.
"This is…Oh my god. This…" she is at a loss for words. Damon smirks, taking her hands and bringing them back and forth as he said:
"You wanna join the party?" he wiggles his eyebrows. She raises hers at him.
"No! Ew!" she says, pulling her hands back and approaching him to a foot. "You need to…get out of the house! This is not…a way to cope, Damon!" she exclaims. Damon rolls his eyes as Stefan stands opposite them, in full agreement with Emily. She gets an idea. "Okay. I gotta go," Damon furrows his brows at that, "but when I'm done, I'm calling you, so we can do something, and you better be sober, or we're not doing anything."
"Anything like what?" he smirks haughtily. Stefan shakes his head at his brother's ridiculous attitude. Emily cocks a brow at him.
"Goodbye, Damon," she tells, turning on her heel to leave. Damon grabs her hand.
"No. Come on," he says sadly.
"Let her go, Damon," Stefan chastises.
"Shut up," Damon shoots irritably at him. He faces her again. "Please. Stay," he says. He hadn't seen her in days, and he may be drunk, but even so, he remembers how good and comforting her company is.
Emily is officially made reluctant to leave. "I have to. I have a presentation."
"Screw it," he says, approaching her and bringing her hand between his other as well, engulfing it in warmth as he caught her gaze intently. Stefan refrains from doing anything, just watching whatever this was unfold.
"…I can't. I barely attend as is, and," she catches his gaze falling in disappointment. "Oh, come on. No pouting," she cupped his chin with her free hand to catch his eyes. He looks to her curiously. "It's a two-hour lecture. Shower," she tells, smiling humorously. "I'll be waiting," she pulled her hand away gently and headed for the door.
"Bye," Damon waves gloomily. She waves and smiles warmly at him, shutting the door behind her.
Damon sighs tiredly. Stefan studies him curiously.
Damon turns to the sorority girls, and they suddenly look like a pack of garbage to him. "…Out," he sternly said. Stefan's eyes widen in surprise. "Get dressed. Get out."
XXX
"You're going out with him," Jenna re-states, standing in the kitchen with Emily as she packed picnic stuff into a large, red hand bag.
"No. I mean yes. We're just hanging out," Emily answers, turning on the tab to fill a bottle.
"In that spot where you and Alec used to make out." Emily looks at Jenna over her shoulder in shock.
"It's not where we used to make out!"
"Was there something else you did when you went there?" Jenna pushes sarcastically.
"Yes! We talked, and…watched the sky," she practically whispered that part, "but, that's not. Why I'm taking Damon! He's been a shut-in for the past week! He needs some sunlight, and I just happen to know a place!" she loudly explains, closing the tab and placing the bottle in the bag.
"Right," Jenna smirks. Emily faces her seriously.
"Knock it off. Okay? He's gonna be here any minute, and I don't want him getting any ides with, you know, your creepy smirking," Emily grins madly and points at her mouth, causing Jenna to chuckle in amusement, then fixes her face. "Or, that smug thing you do with your face that's like 'I know something else is going on,' but there isn't!"
The one reason Jenna didn't believe her, was because of how worked up and nervous Emily was acting.
She didn't push it though.
XXX
"So, where are we going, and what is with the super huge bag?" Damon curiously asks as she drove her car beside him.
"You'll see when we get there," she states, smiling contently. Damon smirks, despite his sour, sober mood. The whole time, Emily refrains from asking him how he was. She didn't think he wanted to go through it again, and she honestly didn't want to hear about Katherine, again. He was glad she didn't ask, cause he was kinda worried she would. For once, silence was soothing.
They stop at the edge of the forest, and Damon is hoping she wasn't planning what he thought she was planning. She guides him a short way through the woods before they reach a clearing several feet from the river. She kneels on the ground and pulls out a blanket from the bag. "Oh, come on. A picnic! What did I bring this for?" he asks irritably, waving the bottle of bourbon in his hand. She does not look up at him as she fixes the blanket, then settles on it cross-legged.
"Sit," she slaps the spot next to her. Reluctantly, he does. She faces him. "Come on. I'm not stupid, Damon. I know this isn't your scene," she says.
"Then what are we doing here?" he asks, smiling sarcastically.
"Right now, this is what you need. Some quiet, with someone who won't let your thoughts wander into dark places," she widens her eyes in mock and wiggles her fingers for effect. Damon is not amused. "Something to drink," she waves at the bottle. "And," she digs through the bag beside her, and brings out a silver, takeout plate. She uncovers it to show french fries. "Therapy food," she smirks. The fries seem to unwind his tension somewhat, and her explanation was somewhat plausible. He puts the bottle aside and leans back onto the blanket with a sigh, squinting his eyes at the sky, and grateful they were shaded from the sun.
She pushes her bag aside, and leans back on her elbows, looking up. "See? Isn't so bad," she says, then turns to face him with that annoyingly sweet smile of hers.
"Meh," he gives, refusing to humor what he still thought was a bad idea. His answer was good enough for her. "How'd you find this place, anyway?" he asked.
"Just," she shook her head. "You know. I like to be alone," she gives, looking away. Damon cocks a brow.
"You know I can tell when you're lying, right?" he says. Emily snaps to him, eyes slowly widening, then she scowls.
"You and your brother are so annoying with that!" she says. Damon smirks.
"Come on. Spill it out," he says. She sighs in frustration.
"Fine," she turns on her side to him, leaning with an elbow probed, and resting her head on her fist as he faced her. "But don't get the wrong idea, okay? This is totally unrelated to that. Totally, okay?" she demands.
"If you say so," Damon says in amusement, his interest pecked.
"Alec showed it to me," she quietly replies, glancing about and trying to be as casual as possible about it. Damon grins, probing himself up on his elbows.
"Your make-out spot? Really?" he asks, then laughs.
"It is not a make-out spot! It's just…a nice and quiet spot!" she defends.
"Sure. You know, we didn't have to come all the way out here. Hell, we could've gone at it in the car," he says humorously.
"Oh, gross!" she slaps his shoulder, pushing him back.
"Hey! I'm not gross! I'm the best you can ever have," he states, smirking.
"Oh, seriously! Knock it off! Don't make me regret deciding to hang out with you!" she points an accusing finger at him. He rolls his eyes.
"Fine. I'll stop…if you admit that you do, in fact, think about sleeping with me," he slyly says. She gawks at him, then scoffs.
"Of course I think about it, alright?! Any woman who looks at you thinks about it. Hell, I bet my aunt does too!" she tells him irritably. Damon laughs again. "Oh, ha. Ha! Very funny," she smirks, shaking her head. He continues to laugh heartedly, then calms down with a satisfied sigh. 'Wow. I really needed that,' he thinks…
then looks to the woman to his side, gazing in the distance with a smile on her face, the wind gently pushing her hair back, and exposing that exquisite neck of hers. Rather than allow himself to hear her blood flow, or focus on her scent, he diverts his attention to her bag, and rummages through it to see what else she'd bought. She turns to see what he's doing. "Ooh," he brings out the blue, transparent lunch box full of cookies. He opens it, and she takes one, as he does the same. They sit and finish off the box together, when Damon asks: "Did you make em?"
"Mhm. My mom taught me," she says, then smiles sadly at the sweet memory. Damon glances at her.
"Well, she's an excellent chef…And I have no doubt she's proud of you," he says.
At first, he was referring to her cooking, but as he said it, it sounded like it meant more, and he was sure it was how she heard it. He didn't clarify as he glanced and saw her eye him in shock, and gratitude.
She looked away, blushing, and he could hear her heart racing. He smiled. She deserved to hear that. Maybe even needed to, and he was happy to oblige.
Then she frowns at the topic related to parents that popped into her thoughts.
Despite not used to sharing family-related issues with others, she found she was talking before she was fully aware she was: "We found out Elena was adopted." Damon's eyes widen as he faces her. She wipes her hands from crumps and hugs her knees. "Yeah. It's been freaking her out. We did some digging after we found out how much she looked like…you know." Damon frowns.
Yeah. He knew.
"Yesterday, I drove her to see one of her real mom's old friend. She was weird, and I'm pretty sure she knew about vampires, but…you know what got to me most?"
"What?" he asked curiously, still stuck on the fact that this woman knew about his kind.
"That Elena…she's not actually my sister…I mean. That won't change things between us, of course, but…I don't know…I…felt panicked."
"…Why?"
"…You're gonna think I'm stupid," she shakes her head, leaning it on her knees.
"No. Come on," he bumps her shoulder with his. She faces him with her head still against her knees, and upon seeing the sincerity in his eyes, she put one leg down and probed an elbow on her knee, burying her hand in her hair as she gazed afar.
"I was afraid I was gonna lose her too…to the point where I was hoping her mom really was dead, like we assume she is…" she guiltily confessed.
Damon takes this in, and she glanced at him worriedly to see him thinking, then shake his head. "It doesn't make you stupid, Em." He faces her. "It means you're human. Suck it up," he shrugs. She smiles, surprisingly reassured.
He hands her the bourbon bottle.
XXXXX
