This is going to be a 2-part, mainly because it is quite long. I do hope you enjoy!
Froth
Damon Salvatore suppressed a grimace for the what felt like the tenth time in the last hour. Never in a thousand years would he have pegged himself one of those men. The kind that trail after their girlfriends, laden down with shopping bags.
Yet here he was.
He eyed his lady, clicking a few feet ahead of him wearing five-inch heels. How she walked in those monstrosities was a mystery to him. He eyed her ass as it swished in her mini skirt. Her long legs seeming endless, albeit twig like.
Still, he supposed there were some advantages.
"Damon, I'm thirsty," she trilled over her shoulder.
He glanced up from his fantasy to see her already clacking towards a café.
He eyed the café dubiously. Tucked away in between several posh boutiques, it looked rather shabby. Certainly not the kind of place Katherine would associate herself.
No, she was more accustomed to white tablecloths, classical music, and ridiculously priced entrees. Not that she bothered to ever eat much of it anyway. Katherine's diet consisted mainly of green lettuce, or as Damon liked to call it, rabbit food.
She sustained on rabbit food and protein shakes. She did Palaties. She weighed herself daily.
Damon shuddered before he found himself cast unmercifully into a memory; he was trying hard to bury.
Her mascara was running in dark streaks down her perfectly made up face. Designer clothes were piled in a haphazard heap. She had stood in front of the full-length mirror loathing herself.
He tried to soothe her in his own way. He had gone in for a kiss. She had turned away, rebuffing him with some excuse about her lipstick smudging.
Her lipstick. That was what she worried about. His eyes scanned over her hollow form. Sharp hips splintered from her frame. Her cheeks sunk beneath her too pale face. A chest so frail, he could see the bump of each rib as it jutted from her taught skin. Those lips that she shoveled greens into were pale and bloodless.
He was left staring in horror at the beautifully breakable stranger she had be become, wondering what the hell happened.
The bell clanged, and he blinked, the memory receding into the dark coils of his mind. Damon found himself standing in a warm foyer that smelled of chocolate and coffee. Somehow, through his darkened haze, he had followed Katherine into the café.
Cherrywood tables cluttered against the far wall. A fireplace, breathed warm and light into the room. A large couch and two overstuffed chairs gathered around the grate. Steam rose from the kitchen. Flaky delicacies lined the glossy display cabinet. Cheesy music poured from a speaker hooked in the corner. People were mulling about sipping organic, hipster crap from colorful mugs.
Damon's eyes swept the scene, before he spotted his girlfriend. She was sitting in one of the armchairs. So fragile and pale, the chair nearly swallowed her frame.
He trudged over to her, and deposited the bags at her feet.
"Interesting choice," he quipped. His arm swept over the ridiculously cheery atmosphere.
Katherine pierced her lips in what was meant to be a pout. Her face just looked more pinched.
"Le Boudoir was not open."
Her arms folded, sticks against her concaved chest. She looked away. Her steely gaze roamed the café with an iron clade critique. Almost as if by silently demanding it, the atmosphere would change. That was the end of the conversation.
Damon wanted to be angry with her. But looking at her too frail frame, he couldn't muster the strength.
"I'll get us something to drink," he muttered.
"A small iced coffee. No cream, no sugar, or whip." Katherine was already turning back to her phone, face aglow in her Instagram account.
Damon felt something in him crumble. As a model, her life would be chained to such social media drivel. Her entire existence was dependent on what others thought of her. What she wore, what she ate, how much she weighed. She savored every word that was spoke, tweeted or wrote about her. She ate up the glowing praise that people spun about the "infamous Katherine Pierce."
Where did that leave him?
He wondered up to the counter.
Through the swath of fragrant steam, a woman's face appeared on the other side of the counter. Damon blinked. Through the caffeine infused haze, he glimpsed a pair of twinkling eyes the color of cocoa.
"Sorry about that, the steam can get a little much" she said with a warm smile.
Damon found himself staring without realizing. Perhaps it was the lack of caffeine buzzing in his veins, or the warmth of this absurdly cozy café. Heat bloomed suddenly in his chest, thawing the frost that crackled in his bones.
The girl was still waiting.
Damon grappled with himself for a moment, then got his bearings.
"Er, I'll have uh…" his eyes scanned the chalkboard.
The board was artfully decorated with hand drawn pictures of different drinks and baked goods. He surveyed the menu, looking utterly confused. Names such as, The Original
The All Nighter, Pepper Up Mocha, and Vervane Tea dotted the board in curling letters.
Jesus, what happened to a latte or cappuccino?
He racked his brain trying to come up with something that would fulfill his caffeine fix without it tasting like glorified sugar in a cup.
"May I make a suggestion?" she asked.
Her smile was there again, flitting so easily to her face. "If you like coffee, I would recommend our Midnight Mocha. It's got the coffee for any caffeine junkie, and we swirl in our house made chocolate sauce. Add a dollop of whipped cream and it's decadent!"
She absentmindedly tucked a strand of mahogany hair behind her ear. Tendrils hung in wisps around her face, escaping from her braid. Her apron was splattered in chocolate and flour.
Damon found himself suddenly thinking of Katherine and her polished, flawless look that she spent countless hours achieving.
"Yes, I will take a large Mocha then," he said, pulling a $20 from his wallet.
She was beaming, and he found he liked it.
"And a maple donut," he said suddenly, feeling impulsive.
"Excellent pairing with the mocha! Can I get you anything else?" she asked him.
That's right Katherine's drink. He had nearly forgotten. That would have gone over well.
"A small iced coffee."
She was smiling again. "Any cream or sugar?" She asked.
He nearly snorted. What a silly question. This was Katherine.
"No, just as it is, thanks." His lips turned up a fraction, as if sharing a joke with this girl at the counter.
Ridiculous. As if she would know why his lips twitched, on the verge of a chuckle.
She gave him his total and he handed the bill over. His hands brushed her fingers for the briefest instant, and his eyes flashed there.
Electric blue shined on her nimble fingers. His eyes caught a glint of silver. A ring.
Not a wedding ring.
He reeled at the sudden and perfect clarity of which the thought came fleeting into his head. It had come so suddenly and without warning.
What the hell?
She had caught him looking. In a flash the ring came into focus. It was small, delicate and made of glittering silver. Upon closer look, Damon saw that the shining silver was shaped to look like a cup of coffee.
"It's a present, to me from myself."
Her voice was smiling. Suddenly Damon wanted to know why.
As if reading his mind, she went on.
"When I took over this place, I decided to get myself a little memento." She looked fondly at the ring on her hand.
She was the owner. Damon's head spun oddly with the thought, as he tried hard not to stare at her. This young woman, covered in flour and chocolate, who smiled so easily. The warmth of the place seemed to seep a little more into his chest, like a cozy fire making a home.
She put his cash into the register, and then counted back his change. Handing it back, she suddenly spoke.
"'I'm Elena."
"Damon," he murmured.
Suddenly he found his hand shaking hers, warm and soft, dusted with flour. He pulled away; his own fingers dusted with the fine substance.
"I'm so sorry!" She apologized, eyes wide, as if caught doing something she shouldn't. She wiped her hands gingerly on her stained apron.
"It's all right," he said with a wry smile.
"Thanks for the suggestion," he went on, stuffing a wad of bills into the tip jar.
It was looking depressingly empty. That's what he told himself as he eyed the jar with minimal change jangling at the bottom.
"Thank you for your generosity Damon," she grinned.
"Your drinks will be brought to your table." She gave him another smile and he felt as though he should say something.
Instead he nodded, stepping away, as the man behind him brushed past to place his order. The man was tall, and dressed impeccably in an Italian suite. Dark blonde hair slicked back. Bright blue the eyes twinkled with confidence as he swaggered up to the counter.
Damon glanced back. She was already taking the man's order. He said something in a lulling British accent. Damon caught the tell end of it.
"A black tea with milk for me, thanks love."
He said something else that Damon didn't hear. Then she was laughing, the sound warm and sweet.
Heat bubbled in his veins suddenly. He shook his head, walking back to the table and to Katherine.
Thoughts? Please leave a comment/review, I would greatly appreciate it. I would love to hear from you. There will be a part 2, I am currently working on it. I split this because it ended up being really long (like over 10 pages). Thanks all! The readers are what keep me motivated!
-Moonandstar331