Dark Side.
Chapter 9: Founder's Day. Part I.
"And the darkness can descend.
We can relish all the pain.
But I know that's what you love,
'Cause you know I love the same.
Do you ever think of me
in the quiet, in the crowd?"
—Where are you now? Mumford and Sons.
Elena stares at her reflection in the body-length mirror. Her hand darts out to hold onto the mirror's frame when a particularly harsh pull from behind makes her lose balance. She fights the urge to flinch. It took Cassandra half the time to get dress that it's taking her, she didn't even need help lacing up the dress's bodice, and Elena wants to at least seem capable of doing this without complaining. When the redhead in question finally finishes knotting the bodice of Elena's dress, making the pressure her corset is applying on her body even worse, she lets go of the mirror and tries rolling her shoulders, hoping some of the tension will go away. It doesn't.
"Ugh," Cassandra complains as she steps back.
Elena turns to look at her, frowning. As far as she's concerned, there's nothing wrong going on. The vampire absentmindedly lifts the left side of her blue skirt, somehow not tripping on her way to the dresser, where the last piece of Elena's skirt is. She picks it up, looking at the olive-green piece of satin with distaste.
"This isn't the best fabric in the world." Cassandra continues with the same tone.
Elena looks down at it. Sure, it shines an awkward hue, and the function of it is lost on Elena, but she wouldn't say it's ugly per say. Cassandra gives it to her, trusting Elena to be able to tie it around her waistline without issue, before she walks over to her bag.
"Mrs. Lockwood said she got all our dresses from the historical society," Elena says, twisting her torso around to make sure the piece of clothing isn't twisted on its own. "She says they're genuine."
Elena turns back to the mirror, happy with the way her skirt looks on the back and reaches for the sash hanging from the mirror. The final touch on her dress. Across the mirror, she sees Cassandra shrug as she sits on the ottoman in front of the vanity.
"They are. Like, ninety percent." Cassandra concedes, lifting a strand of her curled red hair and pinning it back. "But, I don't know. I've never been a fan of green."
Elena watches as Cass pins back another strand of hair to the back of her head. She can't help but be… slightly jealous. Cassandra's dress seems to fit her ten times better. Elena knows that's because the dress was tailored for her, a century ago. The light blue of it, that shade of blue that is almost grey, contrasts against her fair skin prettily. The heavy skirt has some flowers in it, their colors a darker blue and a baby blue, matching with the deep blue petticoat that's barely visible under the skirt. The low neckline is surrounded by navy blue lace. Cassandra's dress looks just as beautiful as Elena's but Elena can't help but feel like Cassandra is wearing the dress, while the dress is wearing Elena.
"I just wish it wasn't so uncomfortable." Elena shifts, slightly pulling at the bodice. She doesn't know what to do with any of it. "I feel like I'm being poked at."
Cassandra hums, nodding.
"Yeah, that's because of the corset." Cassandra explains, running her fingers through some of her curls so they fall just like she wants them to. "They're painful when they're made for you, let alone when you get it from a dusty chest in the attic."
"Are you sure I can't use one of yours?" Elena asks again, pleading.
Cassandra having lived for so long can't be the only reason she's so comfortable with the Civil War Era attire. Surely, her clothes are comfier. Cassandra smiles, eyebrows scrunched up in sympathy.
"They'll feel tighter, Lena."
Elena huffs, not really offended. Cassandra's waist is smaller than Elena's, it is obvious even now when they're fully dressed in the heaviest dresses Elena has had the bad luck of wearing. She knows it's a side-effect of wearing corsets for most of her life, and Elena can't help but be grateful of the fact that she was born in the twentieth century. Because while a small waist is any girl's goal, Elena is one hundred percent sure she would never want to be in this much discomfort and borderline pain to get it.
Elena shifts again, taking a step towards the vanity to get her necklace, which is lying on the surface. She tries not to stumble with the weight of the skirts and is a little proud when she manages to grab her vervain necklace and walk back to the mirror without consequence. Once the necklace is secured around her neck, she brushes her hands down the length of her dress, tilting her head to have a better look at her reflection. She's not sure this look suits her, but she looks beautiful, there's no denying that.
Happy with her looks, Elena turns from the mirror, ready to go. Cassandra sighs, fixing a pretty, ornate hair comb with blue stones in it on the back of her head. It hides away the black bobby pins she used to pin her hair back earlier. With one last look to her reflection, one that's filled with apprehension, even if Elena can't understand why, the redhead rises to her feet, and the two of them leave, ready for what's probably going to be a very long day.
Damon walks around the school parking lot. He's not sure why, but he's somewhat looking forward to today. Thanks to Bonnie, he's safe to walk around his home without having to worry about John Gilbert. Damon won, and John doesn't even know it. He finds Stefan between the Willow Creek float and the marching band. Smirking, he approaches.
"Look at you, all retro." Damon teases as greeting.
Stefan, dressed in a formal suit from the eighteen-sixties, turns to face him. Damon can practically hear the sigh Stefan is suppressing as he looks at him, a frown covering his features, which is really nothing new.
"What are you doing here?" Stefan asks.
The frown he wears doesn't budge. Damon shrugs, secretly enjoying how tense Stefan is.
"Why wouldn't I be here? Bonnie deactivated the Gilbert invention, Isobel is gone and it's Founders' Day!" Damon exclaims with feigned enthusiasm. "I'm here to eat cotton candy and steal your girl." He adds with a teasing smirk.
Stefan takes a step back, this time sighing openly as he looks to the graveled ground, clearly searching for patience somewhere deep within. Damon's strangely amused by it.
"Don't start with me, Damon." He requests, looking away.
"Oh, you started this Stefan with that whole 'I'm insecure, leave Elena alone' speech." Damon points out bitterly. "I'm enjoying that."
"As long as you heard it." Stefan hums, tone warning.
Damon rolls his eyes, annoyed. Clearly, Stefan is not about to drop the subject, and he's tired of it. What he feels or doesn't feel for Elena is none of Stefan's business.
"You have no sense of humor, Stefan." Damon comments, unamused but pretending to be.
"Actually," Stefan replies almost immediately. "I've no sense of 'Damon humor'."
Damon humor? Damon inwardly scoffs. What is that even supposed to mean? Sure, he is making fun out of Stefan's clear insecurities, which is understandable considering Damon is Stefan's competition. Except it's not a competition! Damon isn't even sure what he feels for Elena. Sure, she's beautiful and smart, and he cares about her, but he's not entirely sure he's in love with her. Not that it matters, anyway, because he is sick of love. He's apprehensive of it; there is not enough money in the world to get him to go through love again.
"'Damon humor.'" Damon repeats, still slightly appalled by the term. "Hey, look, I get it, I get it." He lightly jokes, lifting his hands up in mock-surrender. "I'm the better, hotter, superior choice and you're scared, now that Katherine is out of the picture, that I'm gonna turn all my attention to Elena." He nods once. "But don't worry, Elena is not Katherine."
"You're right, she's not." Stefan harshly agrees.
The two brothers look at each other for a moment, studying one another. Stefan clearly has more to say, but Damon is done with this conversation. He's aware of Elena not being Katherine, and he's still bitter over the fact that Katherine's name still hurts to hear.
"And Cassandra has sacrificed a lot for us, both of us." Stefan adds, tone of voice stern. Damon rolls his eyes. "Stop trying to make her our enemy."
"I'm not trying anything! I'm just being honest. She pretended to be dead for a century, Stefan, and she keeps more secrets than even Katherine." Damon protests like it's obvious, which kind of is. "It'd be stupid to think she's on our side."
"C'mon, Damon!" Stefan complains, one hand shooting out to stress his following point. Damon rolls his eyes, not in the mood for the coming reprimanding and probable monologue his brother will soon blurt out. "She's a good person. Stop pretending this has anything to do with her past. This is about you. You're hurt."
Damon scowls. Stefan just shrugs, unbothered. He is bothered by the accusation, though. Stefan has no business telling Damon how he feels about Cassie, or to tell him how to deal with her.
"First of all, don't try to tell me how to deal with my friend, Stefan." Damon says.
He hopes his little brother hears the warning beneath his words. Just in case, he adds a little bit more of it to his next comment, so Stefan will get it loud and clear that he wants him to drop the subject.
"Second of all, I think you're reading way too much into this." He smirks, light tone fake.
"All I'm saying is, you better deal with whatever problem you have with her soon." Stefan relents, walking around him. "She said she's leaving again."
Damon's eyes go from the cute blonde cheerleader walking past them to Stefan in a millisecond. Stefan nods once, eyebrows high on his forehead. Something weighs on Damon's stomach, like a massive boulder just dropped into it.
"Good riddance." Damon scoffs immediately.
"You don't mean that. I know you don't mean that." Stefan reproaches with a shake of his head. "Are you ready to spend another century without her?"
Damon doesn't like the way he says it, like he already knows the answer. He sighs, uncrossing his arms. It is true enough that he wished for her to be alive throughout the years. Stefan knows how much Damon once cared for her. But he can't help but think she's still hiding something. She's Katherine's best friend. The two of them faked their deaths, and he's sure that her return has to do with some other ulterior motive.
But Stefan is, once more, right. Damon's animosity towards the redhead has nothing to do with her planning something, it comes from him holding a grudge. He doesn't let his frown disappear, doesn't let Stefan realize that Damon's actually thinking about it, and that the answer to the question is a very resounding no.
His trail of thought vanishes when, by rolling his eyes, he catches sight of Cassandra. She's strolling arm in arm with Elena, who could easily be Katherine in this moment. The resemblance is striking. They're talking about something Damon is too stunned to eavesdrop on. It must be quite funny, though, because they're wearing big smiles on their faces. He knows his brother is just as stunned as he is, and maybe worried, too. Because Damon's earlier argument about how Elena isn't Katherine seems a little harder to back up now.
Except Damon is not looking at Elena anymore. His eyes are stuck to Cassie. Seeing her like this—wearing a dress he has seen before, a dress he has taken off her before, with her deep red hair falling down her shoulders in soft curls, full lips rosy, and looking as beautiful as he always remembered her—is even worse than seeing her for the first time in a century. Damon just doesn't know why. When her green eyes meet his, her smile goes from genuine to feigned in the matter of a second. Elena doesn't notice the difference, and Damon thinks Stefan probably didn't, either. Cassandra's eyes jump between the two brothers, before she turns to Elena.
"I'm going to find Caroline." She lets Elena know.
Elena nods, before beginning to walk towards them. Cassandra turns around and walks back the way she came. Something tugs at Damon's chest—almost like a very vital part of him wants, no, needs, to go with her—when he sees the hair comb keeping her hair in place. It was a gift from him.
Finding Caroline is slightly more annoying than Cassandra wishes it was, what with having to pretend to be human and struggle to make her way across a sea of bystanders and other people in costume and planning and planning. Seriously, Mrs. Lockwood is probably going to blow a gasket by the end of today from the stress of everything having to be perfect. The festivities are about to begin and she's still ordering people around, there's still people fixing things. Clearly, organization is not this town's forte.
Cass finds Caroline with Bonnie and Matt near the Miss Mystic Falls float. Caroline's dress, a pastel yellow and peach combo with little bows in the skirt and a square neckline, is just the right amount of elegant and simple that is deserving of Miss Mystic Falls. She smiles, approving. Both Elena and Caroline look amazing, this year's Miss Mystic Falls float is going to be the best ever. She briefly wonders when she began caring about stuff like this, but she has to admit that all the planning she helped Caroline with was incredibly fun. Even if she feels like she's drowning under the weight of a thousand memories from eighteen-sixty-four.
"Cass!" Caroline beams, waving her over.
Cass can't help but smile at the girl's enthusiasm. Clearly, Caroline is in cloud nine right now. The second she's within reach, Caroline gives her a short hug. She returns it lightly, still not overly comfortable on how quick these people are at establishing physical contact.
"Oh, my god, you look great!" Caroline nods approvingly.
"Thanks, Caroline. So do you, very Scarlett O'Hara." Cass teases, before smiling at Bonnie and Matt. "Hey, guys."
"Okay! So, let's do a group picture!" Caroline orders.
Cass's immediate reaction is to say no. After all, she's not too keen on random pictures of herself going around, especially now that Social Media is such a big deal. Bonnie is already holding the camera up, though, and Matt and Caroline are in the midst of posing.
"Um… my escort isn't here." She protests.
"Yeah, thank god," Matt chuckles, hand snaking around Caroline's waist. "He's kind of a douche."
"Matt Donovan!" Cass gasps, pretending to be shocked. "You're supposed to be the nicest out of all of us."
"Not too nice." Bonnie shakes her head, giggling. "He's dating Caroline."
The laugh that leaves her is completely spontaneous. Bonnie joins her, especially now that Caroline is frowning slightly at them, even if she's still smiling.
"Just for that, you are being part of the picture." Caroline points at her.
She rolls her eyes, conceding. Cass takes a step towards the happy couple, standing next to Matt so she can cover his cast with her body. Bonnie positions the camera right in front of her face, at arms-length, and gets ready to take a picture. Cassandra fights the urge to cringe at the fact that the girl doesn't know much about photography, at least she surmises based on the way Bonnie's holding the camera, and smiles widely instead.
They take two, before Caroline insists that Bonnie should join in on the picture fun, which is actually not fun at all. Cassandra loves photography, she's just not a huge fan of having pictures taken of her. Running away from Klaus for so long has made her paranoid of it.
"Oh, here!" Tyler Lockwood stops on his way near them, clearly having seen the four of them struggle to get a picture where they're all in it. "I'll take it."
The change happens immediately. Matt's smile drops until he's almost glowering at Tyler, Caroline sticks to Matt's side, clearly letting everyone know she's on her boyfriend's corner when it comes to this particular fight, while Bonnie is looking between the two ex-best friends awkwardly. Cass just stands there, between Bonnie and Caroline. There's no questioning which side she's on, there's no way she's backing up a Lockwood.
"I'll be on the float." Matt lets them know coldly.
He shoots Tyler one last glare before walking to the nearby float. Wow, talk about Matt supposedly being a huge teddy bear. In front of them, Tyler lets out an exasperated breath through his nose, throwing his hands up in the air.
"I said I was sorry!" he calls out after Matt.
"You made out with his mom and then beat him to a pulp." Caroline scoffs, shooting daggers at Tyler with her eyes. "You're gonna have to do a little better than sorry."
Cassandra's eyebrows shoot up her forehead. Clearly, Lockwoods haven't changed much in the past century. Typical alpha-male, need-to-exhibit-my-superiority-with-unnecessary-overly-useless-violence, werewolf behavior. With one last cold look at Tyler, both Bonnie and Caroline walk away. Cass takes a step towards them, ready to leave as well, but junior werewolf stops her.
"Hey, we haven't been properly introduced." Tyler's hand shoots up to softly graze Cass's wrist, stopping her in her tracks. "I'm Tyler Lockwood."
"I know." She nods briskly.
She does know who he is, what he has the potential of being, and the fact that they have indeed never been properly introduced has nothing to do with coincidence. Tyler's eyebrows inch closer together.
"You sit behind me in chem lab?" Cassandra reminds him. Tyler's mouth opens slightly in the international expression for 'oh, yeah.' "Yeah, you spend all the time staring at my ass and talking about it with your other friends." She adds, just to see what he'll do.
The blood practically leaves Tyler's face entirely. His eyes widen, probably embarrassed that he got caught. Not really regretful, though, Cass notices. His left hand goes up to scratch the back of his neck.
"I didn't know you could hear me." He admits with a nervous smile.
"You're not exactly subtle about it." She points out, one eyebrow raised.
They're not. Even if she were human, she'd be able to hear the stage-whispers, the sniggering. She'd probably even be able to see the rude gesturing. It's appalling. The only reason why she hasn't turned around and compelled them all not to do it is because she's low-key above it. They can say whatever crude thing they can come up with about her butt cheeks, or her apparently 'perfectly honka-honka-ble' boobs—seriously who talks like that?—she has heard it all before. Tyler's reaction, however, is priceless.
"Right, sorry." Tyler chuckles again. Cass wonders if she's supposed to find this cute or whatever, based on the way he's acting, she thinks it's all a farce. A well-practiced farce. "If it's any consolation, you are pretty hot."
That catches her off guard. Her jaw slacks, her eyebrows almost reach her hairline. It must be a hilarious sight, because Tyler is smiling again, cockily.
"Wow. You're a dick." She snorts, unamused.
"Excuse me?" Tyler demands.
Ah, there is the feeble and unpredictable werewolf temper. He takes a step closer to her in a way that is meant to be intimidating. His voice has risen so suddenly that people around them have turned to look at what's probably going to turn into an argument. In the distance, she spots her friends watching the conversation.
"I call it like I see it." Cass shrugs. Tyler frowns even harder. "Also, I've been here for a while now and I haven't heard a single good thing about you in that entire time."
With that, she begins to walk away. Her eyes catch Damon near the marching band, not too far from where she is, looking for something. She looks away before he can sense eyes on him and keeps her focus on her friends. Maybe if she's busy talking to someone else, Damon won't try to make conversation with her in the case that he sees her. Sadly, Tyler doesn't seem to be ready to let this conversation go. He scrambles to catch up to her, rushing until he's right in front of her, blocking her path. Cassandra rolls her eyes, irritated.
"That's because you haven't really met me yet." Tyler lets her know.
My god, was he dropped on his head as a baby? She wonders silently. She's not interested in this conversation, and she's even less interested in whatever it is Tyler is trying to sell to her, friendship, a relationship, a quickie behind the Miss Mystic Falls float, whatever it is, she's not buying. Obviously, Tyler doesn't get that. Or, he's pretending not to get that, which makes it twice as irritating. Her eyes snap back to where she saw Damon earlier, only to find he's nowhere around them. Her shoulders relax, and she allows herself to focus back on the asshole before her.
"I have a myriad of jackasses in my life, dude." Cass snaps harshly.
Just in that moment, and almost like he can sense her thinking about him, Damon appears next to Tyler, completely out of nowhere and uninvited. Unconsciously, her eyes travel from his face down his body. He's wearing a black buttoned-down shirt with some jeans and black boots, modern era attire for sure, and a weight is lifted off her chest. There will be no reminders of the man he used to be, no reminders of the past she so desperately wants to change.
Cass looks up at his face, her eyes meeting searing blue. Damon lets out a small breath and takes a step closer to her. Her breath gets stuck in her throat.
"Cassie, hey." He starts, so uncharacteristically cautious Cassandra wonders if she accidentally fell into an alternate reality.
Still, she's not falling for it. She's not doing this again.
"Case in point." Cass scoffs, turning back to Tyler. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to pass." Tyler doesn't say anything, just looks at her, flabbergasted. She shrugs, unbothered, and begins walking away, hoping the other Mr. Douche won't follow her. "Also, cease with the locker-room talk about me," Cass adds as an afterthought, glancing at Tyler over her shoulder with a faux-sweet smile. "Or I will cut off your testicles and hand-feed them to you."
Tyler tenses immediately, brown eyes widening comically. Cassandra slowly lets her smile fall, witnessing as Tyler's shock-mixed annoyance turns into fear. He knows she's serious, and that's all Cassandra can ask for right now. Turning back to the direction of the Miss Mystic Falls float, she takes a step forward, and another, glad to see Tyler doesn't stop her again. No more werewolf puppy begging for something he's never getting. She fights off a shudder at the picture that pops up in her head.
"Cassandra, wait." Damon calls after her.
"What do you want?" Cass asks him without even so much as slowing down.
She doesn't even glance at him. If she looks at him, she'll get too caught up on how stupidly handsome he looks today, which will lead to her letting her guard down, and next thing she knows, Damon's sending a snide comment her way that stings so hard it becomes hard to breathe. She's done with that.
"Stefan told me you're leaving."
Her mind nearly disconnects at the words. There's a hitch to Damon's words, an almost vulnerability that reminds her of the man she first fell in love with.
"So?" Cass nonchalantly asks, so distracted by the younger vampire walking after her that she almost runs into a group of cheerleaders.
The two girls, Lily and Ashley who share homeroom with her, send her a glare as they scramble out of her skirt's way, while Barnaby, one of the school's few male cheerleaders, sends her a wink and a cheeky grin. Cassandra doesn't even bother with a 'sorry' or an apologetic, kind smile. Her heart is hammering inside her chest, and all she wants is to get this stupid day over with.
"Were you planning on saying goodbye," Damon starts, demanding.
At one point, he realizes she's not stopping. His hand shoots out to grab her upper arm, fingers accidentally catching on the lace of her dress and pulling the barely-there sleeve lower. She turns to face him, watches how his eyes travel from her exposed shoulder across her chest, up to her collarbone until they fall on her lips, and eventually her eyes. She can't breathe. Her skin burns where he touches her, and his eyes are hypnotizing.
"Or were you just going to walk away like nothing happened?"
Cass expects a tiny smirk and a wiggle of an eyebrow at the end of Damon's sentence, typical defense he uses when he doesn't want people to realize what he's saying matters. But she's received with none of that. His face is completely sobered up, eyes as clear as she's seen them since she came back. Damon's mad at her, Cass quickly realizes, but she's so focused on keeping every single feeling from her face that she can't come up with a rational reason as to why he's so angry.
"I wasn't aware that you wanted a goodbye." She finally manages, trying to sound as detached as she can.
Damon opens his mouth for a second, but no words leave him. His eyebrows scrunch up together in a frown that's half hesitant. The hand that's on her arm loosens its tight hold until it slides down her arm, thumb brushing the soft skin of her inner wrist. It sends a shiver from her neck all the way down to her legs. She tries to hide it by shifting her weight from one leg to the other, but she's not sure it was successful. Behind Damon, Caroline calls her name, beckoning her over. Cass glances her way. Both Caroline and Bonnie are standing a little way away from the Miss Mystic Falls float, huddled together and talking, eyes trained on Cassandra and Damon.
"I don't," Damon finally says. Her chest hurts so suddenly, she fights the urge to clutch it. This is what he stopped her for? To tell her once more how little he cares for her? Cass frowns up at him, appalled. Damon shakes his head slightly at the same time he takes a step closer to her, lowering his head so he can look her straight in the eye. "I don't want to have to say goodbye to you."
"What?"
Damon sighs, looking around them, lips pursed. She has a right to be confused, though. His words don't match his actions, and vice versa, they haven't in a very long time, even before she faked her death.
"Finding out that you were alive and never told me upset me, okay?" Damon finally exclaims. "But it was easier to pretend I hated you than admit that out loud." He shrugs, eyes wide and eyebrows high on his forehead. "I still think of you as a friend, and I—I want you to stay." The last sentence is admitted with difficulty.
Their eyes meet again, to which Damon's answer is a small shrug as he immediately tries to brush off the moment of plain vulnerability.
"Okay." She smiles.
"So, you'll stay?" he seems surprised, and Cass thinks there's hope underneath it.
"Maybe." She teases him.
Damon's lips twitch slightly, like he's deciding whether to allow a smile or not. At the end, he settles for a smirk. A cheeky, self-satisfactory smirk. On any other person she'd find it infuriatingly annoying. And yet, Cass finds that stupid little smirk makes him more attractive. It's just as infuriating. God, he's hot, she laments inwardly at the same time she lightly rolls her eyes outwardly. Life would be so much simpler if he wasn't hot.
Saying nothing more, for she doesn't think anything else needs to be said, Cass walks around Damon swiftly, knowing the parade will start soon and she should be getting on that float soon. She can feel his eyes on her as she walks away, but she refuses to give him the satisfaction of having her glance back.
UPDATED: 16/01/2020