Alexithymia: def. the inability to properly express feelings

Chapter 23: Wow, Genuine Surprise is New.

Bons bright green eyes flash alarmingly at me, but I'm stuck.

What the hell did I do wrong? Did I put Bonnie in danger just by existing??

My caramel eyes steel up, instead of offering reassurance to Bons, I turn to look Isobel in her cold blue eyes. Welp, best way through is forward, if I make a mistake, I can fix it as I go. I stand from my seat coolly, walking across the Grill with what I hope is a certain level of grace that demands respect. Isobel smiles insincerely at me as I move to sit next to them both, and I can see the stunned confusion all over Elena's face.

"How can I be of service, Flemming? Speak quick and maybe I'll listen to what your employer has to offer."

There's no flash of emotion, just a continual wave of placid ease on her face as she scrunches her Elena-esque brows at me. "How interesting. But, I'm no soft touch, either. I did come here to see my daughter, but I'll be talking to you both privately when the time comes. Don't worry, I'll find you. Ta ta!"

And with that, the whirlwind exits the scene, leaving me and the rest of the Scooby gang speechless.

Oh shit, oh SHIT, OH SHIT.

Damon and Alaric come inside as quickly as Isobel leaves and immediately stride over to us. I'm barely registering them speaking with Stefan and Elena, my eyes glued to the wooden table, stomach tying itself in knots. There were so many things that could've gone wrong just by having me born. Was it Katherine who wanted to meet us? If so, why didn't Isobel flaunt it to hurt Elena? Was a fucking Original going to be showing up ahead of schedule? I don't even have a White Oak stake, let alone the moonstone. I've been so fucking lazy.

And now I'm paying for it.

Blinking rapidly at vaguely hearing my name called, my eyes look up sharply to see a pair of forest green looking back at me, concerned. Ugh, great. He thinks I'm scared of Isobel. I'm not scared of Isobel.

I'm scared of who could be with her.

I nod at the unasked question as to my mental state, brain moving fast to keep up with how fast the situation has changed. If things got risky, would I be able to kill whoever this was? Or would it be smarter to stay ignorant, make myself more trustworthy? Oh god, I might throw up.

There's a new warmth on my shoulder, and I glance up to see Stefan, looking down at me with even more concern. Stupid boy, I said I was fine. Maybe I didn't nod firmly enough. Whatever. I'm desperate for something to ground me here, otherwise I'm gonna go full-on panic attack in this public restaurant, so I squeeze the wooden bottom of my chair with one hand, my other hand reaching up for Stefan's and squeezing it tight.

As much as I'm not as big of a fan of his anymore, the gesture is noted and appreciated. His green eyes look worried about my intense grip, but I am having a hard time trying to control my breathing, so I brush it off like I don't see it.

Wait.

Bonnie.

Whipping around quick enough to make Stefan stiffen slightly, I look back at my sister still at the other table, and see she's in a very similar state with Elena and Caroline rubbing her shoulders. Wide olive eyes, staring down at the table, hands clenched to where they look white. Suddenly, that olive gaze snaps on me, and I get a little soft at how much worry I see there. She's a lot like me in some ways. Or maybe it's the other way around.

I can see her asking me with her eyes, "what the hell are we gonna do??"

I have no fucking idea.

Ugh. Thinking on the fly is a lot more difficult than having a nearly omniscient presence.

I do a deep inhale through my nose, releasing Stefan's hand and placing both appendages in a steeple before placing my forehead on it, looking as if I'm a repentant sinner. And maybe I am. I feel a large warm hand slowly appear on my shoulder, clutching me firmly and comfortingly. Glancing up, I am greeted with a very understanding, if not pained, looking history teacher.

"Guys. Here is not the time or place to discuss this. Let's regroup at the boardinghouse, we can talk about everything there.. We can figure out our game plan," Ric firmly says after glancing down worriedly at both me and Bonnie. The break would be appreciated, honestly. I had a lot to think about, and no matter what I did at this point, it would most likely greatly affect my timeline's ending.

If I fucking knew who it was, we'd be counting our lucky stars.

Blinking momentarily, seeing everyone slowly get up and start grabbing their belongings, and quickly move to catch up.

What 'lucky stars'?

I'm a Bennett.

*

And so, the Scooby Gang evacuated the premises as discreetly as possible. Since our group was ever-expanding, Caroline took it upon herself to manage the seating situation. Only Damon and Ric has taken their cars, Stefan and Elena has just walked over there after hanging out at the Gilbert house for a bit, so there were seven people to two cars.

Quickly adjusting to her executive branch status with a roll of her slim shoulders, my favorite blonde quickly turns to all of us. "Okay, so, me, Aless, and Damon'll take his car and the rest can hop in with Ric."

Brilliant woman. I could marry her.

Caroline had been exposed to me and Bons for a long time, specifically our sisterhood and how it functioned, and she knew that the two of us absolutely could not be left together in a panicked state. When Bonnie hears bad news, she immediately gets anxious and suspicious of everything and has a habit of ranting. I, on the other hand, get real quiet, and I need quiet to think through everything.

Basically, me and Bons couldn't be around each other for the next few minutes, otherwise we'd fight. Not necessarily an important fight, but it's better just not have to deal with two usually levelheaded Bennetts at odds with each other and anxious.

Sliding into Damon's nice leather backseat, my hands immediately return to their steepled position, my lips gently pressed against them while I lean against them pensively. Since we are all the way over by the Grill, it'll be about ten minutes till we get back to Dracula's clubhouse. Ten minutes to decide on something that has the potential to destroy everything I've planned over the last seventeen years.

Perfect. Love that for me.

Caroline and Damon both slide into their respective seats, quickly glancing back at me, and if the vampire's stiff jaw was any indication, Damon was experiencing similar emotions. It made sense. This had to be a delicate situation for him.

Not only was his ex-lover the mysterious heart of whatever was going on, he had no idea what she intended to do. Jesus, so many variables, my brain is gonna fucking split, and I know that my brain is retreating into its emergency autopilot system.

Whenever I panic, my body tends to go on autopilot for a little bit so my brain can figure out what we're gonna do next. The last time I'd used it, however, was back when I was ten and desperately trying to fix Gram's crystal ball that she'd gotten as a gift from our grandpa at her first college exposé on the occult. She was supposed to come home in two hours, and to this day I can't tell you really what I did for those two hours, just that the crystal ball was fixed after.

That's what I'd do. I'd just crystal ball it.

The background noise of the car and Damon and Caroline's talking slowly drowns out, and as I do another strong inhale I close my eyes slowly, attempting to relax. When I open my eyes, I can't stop the gasp that leaves my mouth.

All I see is me.

And by that, I mean my reflection.

I find myself in a room of mirrors, a soft coo in the back of my subconscious letting me know that what I'm seeing is not entirely real. Blinking widely, I see the me in front of me slowly change. Her copper colored curls lengthen and darken, returning to its natural, oak brown shade. Mental note, I look hot natural. Maybe I could dye it back?

Slowly, her outfit also fades from matching mine, to becoming eerily familiar.

That girl from the sketch.

She blinks back at me, and I realize that her body is no longer following my body's natural sway. Glaring up at my reflection, her eyes seem to brighten as she notices that I realize she's moving independently.

"Who the fuck are you?" I whisper, and she smiles warmly at me.

"My name is Loretta, but you can call me Lettie if you'd like."

Identical caramel eyes are locked on mine intensely, clearly doing the same thing as me and watching for any sign of a threat from me. This is all too fucking weird. I thought I was just a stupid doppelgänger, what the hell is with the mind visit from my clone?

Elena didn't have to deal with this.

Yeah, but she's not a witch.

True.

Her long dark curls bounce slightly as Lettie starts to shake, and I panic for a moment, thinking she's going to make a move, but instead her head rolls back with raucous laughter. I blink once, then twice, but no cigar, I still have no idea what the hell is so funny.

"What kind of hairstyle is that??" She snorts, holding her stomach in the mirror as she guffaws at me. "You look as if you tied a rope to your ankle and just let the carriage drag you till your hair got frizzy!"

Frizzy?? Bitch.

Reaching up to subconsciously pat my copper 'frizz', I glare at my mocking, modest-1800s copy. "Ugh, whatever. I look like a clown and you look like something our Founders' Parade coughed up. Now that we're on the same page, let's talk business. Why do we look like a cheap Parent Trap remake?"

A thick brow arches at me, and I fight off the shivers that come with it. It's still creepy that my reflection is moving, and that it's her.

She looks at me out of the corner of her caramel eyes, calling on what I assume are well-bred manners as her eyes flash steel, hands folding primly over her dress.

"It's not just us two in here, Alessia," she sighs, appearing a bit bored that she has to explain everything to me at this moment. "But, it's my turn to introduce you. Not right now, though. It's much too soon. But you did call, so I assumed it was an emergency—."

"'Called?'" I question boldly.

"Yes," she smiles, "You could call this our secret place. You have us all at your disposal."

"'Have us all'?" I ask once again, and I briefly get annoyed that all of this urgent questioning is making me sound like a fucking parrot.

I can tell that my double is also getting vaguely annoyed that she has to answer my rapid fire questions. But, instead of snarking at me, her eyes turn warm and soft, entirely welcoming as she opens her arms in the mirror.

Her voice distorts as she speaks, quickly moving from sounding as if it were just her speaking to sounding as if a coliseum spoke in tandem with her.

"HAVE US ALL."

The voices calling out are haunting, and I feel an involuntary chill run up my spine at the vibrations from their one call.

"HAVE US ALL."

Many honey eyes look at me from the other mirrors, each a different copy of me, and I feel the room start to shake at the pressure of their voices in my brain. So loud.

"HAVE US ALL."

Then, all I hear is my own screaming.

*

I'm being shaken roughly, shoulders grabbed tightly in someone's large hands, and my eyes rapidly blink to try and keep up with the change of scenery. Really, it was like a blink, and then boom! Regular world for Alessia. My eyes finally snap to the pair on my assailant, and I see pretty blue eyes intense with worry.

Damon.

Air is not coming naturally to me for some reason. I'm suddenly coughing and hacking into Damon's nice John Varvatos shirt, and barely feeling bad about it. I felt like boiled Death, and honestly, trying to inhale through my nose was hard enough without having to worry about Damon's expensive clothing.

He clutches me tightly in his arms, one hand tangled in my curly hair that he's trying to soothe down, the other patting my back as I continue to cough. "Jesus, Aly Cat. Breathe much?" He asks jokingly, but I can tell by how hard he squeezes me to him, whatever happened while I was in Mirrorland had freaked him out significantly.

Gasping for breathe as my stomach starts to cramp at the consistent hacking, my eyes are watery when I blink up at Damon. "Damon? W-what?—!"

I'm cut off by another round of annoying coughs, but Damon catches what I'm trying to ask.

"One thing at a time, gorgeous. Everyone is fine, you were just out for a couple hours. They're all sleeping now, so if you'd like to stop coughing..."

That gives me some ease, and I start to relax as Damon continues to run his fingers through my hair. After a few moments of him coddling me, I blink as I start rapidly looking around to see where the fuck I am.

Oh, back in my room at the boardinghouse.

Damon pulls away from me as my wheezing turns to slow, even breaths, his smile playful, but his eyes hold a bit of anger. He moves to sit on a small chair that has obviously been taken out of the dining room and brought in here for guard duty. It's a bit funny how that man never lets you directly see how he's feeling, but the hint is always in the eyes.

Damon's pretty blues are the most expressive thing on his face, and that says a lot when you're as pretty as he is. They're almost always were cold, analytical, and wild. He'll always let a grin hang off his strong jaw to throw off people, make them think he's being easy-going or flirtatious when he's actually being threatening. Maybe it was all part of the enticement factor of the vampire bad-boy. You never know what he'll do next.

Crossing his long, jean-clad legs, Damon folds his arms, pursing his lips before turning that gaze back on me. "You passed out in the car, Aly Cat. After screaming bloody murder on the middle of the highway, very suddenly, might I add."

Desperate to regain some of the cool I have clearly lost in this situation, I'm very much embarrassed. I blink owlishly at the handsome vampire before curling in on myself and holding my knees to my chest comfortingly. I give Damon a small charming smile as I tuck my head over my knees as I wipe the tears from earlier off my cheeks.

"Don't tell me that I scared ya, D? Little old me could never scare a big, bad vampire."

My attempt at a nonchalant attitude very obviously backfired when Damon's reprimanding gaze turns to a white hot glare instead of the smile I was hoping for.

"Alessia." He growls out, and I can audibly hear the barely concealed anger. "I didn't know if you were dying or not. I nearly swerved me and Barbie into an oncoming truck because of that."

Glancing down, now a bit more ashamed that Damon was so clearly worried about me and I tried making a joke about it. "Sorry, Damon. It wasn't intentional, I promise."

"See," he sighs out, shaking his black messy hair incredulously, "I don't think that's gonna cut it for me. You reminded me of a horrible thing just now, Aly Cat. I think you owe me."

Damon suddenly stands, pushing the chair back, and I blink up at his angry form. Tense broad shoulders, furrowed brow, bright livid blue eyes, and I can't help but wonder what kind of day I reminded him of to make him this incensed.

He moves forward with purpose, and when he's standing in front of me, all aggressive and attractive, my bunched up knees graze his abdomen. The elder Salvatore's gaze lights something in my stomach on fire, and I feel goosebumps raise on my arms as he looks down at me.

Jesus Christ, that's like brushing up against fucking marble.

I don't say anything, because I don't feel like I can under those intense baby blues. How does any girl ever breathe around this guy?

I couldn't look away if I tried. Damon's large hands move, vaguely startling me as they move to my arms, gently caressing from my shoulder down my arms before grabbing my wrists that were haphazardly locked around my legs. It's a very big contrast from how angry he looks, almost as if he's forcing himself to be gentle with me. He brings my hands away from my body, making me place my legs slowly back on the ground without the added assistance of my arm strength to hold them up.

"Oh, Aly Cat," Damon purrs, releasing one of my hands but holding the other, slowly raising it up to his nose before smelling it possessively. My tummy starts filling with butterflies as I feel his cool breath against my palm. Oh my God, oh my god, oh my goddd. My heart is pounding, and I honestly can't remember a time I was this nervous.

Is this okay now? My brain runs through all of my self consciousness and doubt. He's not with Katherine anymore, and he doesn't really like Elena just yet. He's supernatural, so that checks that box. Obviously, he's beautiful, more beautiful than I'll probably be able to top in my life time. Maybe.

Maybe, we could test it? See if we actually like him or just like blue eyes? My brain supplies, and oddly enough, I feel a hint of Lettie behind it.

Odd, but we're horny and stressed so who cares.

Damon's eyes are still locked on mine, and I can tell that he's waiting for something, for me to make a move to let him know that I want it, too.

So, I do.

I sit up on my knees, and slowly curl my fingers in the dark hair curling softly at the nape of his neck. His blue eyes have shifted to black, pupils wide and hungry as he scans my face for any sign of hesitation.

Ugh, quit waiting! You're supposed to be a bad boy, goddammit.

Glaring softly at his doubt, I make the final move. Leaning up, I softly kiss his lips, brushing them quickly as if I had never kissed them at all. There's a familiar shot of electricity down my spine and into my lower belly, slowly stoking a fire in me, and a soft gasp leaves my mouth.

That gasp must've been the final straw for Damon, because his lips slam into mine the very next moment. Soft lips engulf mine roughly, animalistically, clearly trying to dominate me, and I love it. My own kisses rise in intensity at the challenge, and when I feel him nibble hard on my lip and clutch my waist tightly, I can't stop the satisfied moan that leaves me.

When it comes to sex, high school has been an interesting beast to tame. I definitely wasn't a virgin, (thank you, Olivia Tribech, you were a doll), and back last year me and Ty slept together a couple times in a drunken haze, so I was pretty aware of what I liked. Rough kisses, pretty people, and I am not the dominant party most of the time. Occasionally, for some variety, but otherwise I'm a happy girl if I'm sore in the morning. And judging by how hard Damon's hand tugged back on my hair to get my mouth to open for his tongue to slide in, I was going to be a very happy girl in the morning.

Damon's tongue is domineering, and he tastes like alcohol and bad decisions. Yes, I know someone can't actually taste like a bad decision, but there was something so inherently wicked about how he kissed that it made me feel as if I was already sinning when we hadn't crossed that line yet. It all just feels so good, and I don't want to stop. Ever.

Damon shoves me back further onto the bed, making me land on my back with a huff before he immediately hovers over me. His large hands frame my hips, until one of them moves up and brushes a curl out of my face, hovering over my cheek as he eyes my face. I can guess what I look like: runny mascara from sleep, heated cheeks, bruised pouty lips, and messy hair, but he looks at me like I'm the prettiest bird in the forest.

"So pretty, Aly..." he mutters lowly, not really talking to me, but his words make my heart race.

"Damon," I moan out, wanting him to just touch me more.

His lips quirk into that smug grin momentarily, then his lips move to mine. They kiss me passionately for a moment, effectively making me lightheaded, then his perfect lips move down further, starting to move towards my neck.

Soft, open-mouthed kisses roll down my throat, and I moan at the sensation of his tongue against my sensitive skin. His movements get more aggressive at the sound, teeth mixing in his ministrations and I yelp when he bites hard.

I can feel that it's not deep, a small, slow stream of blood descending down the column of my throat. Damon moans, and it's the hottest fucking thing I've ever heard in my life. I want it on replay when I die. Let them blast it in a stadium because this shit is my new anthem. Or, at least it was, until I hear Damon moan a name as he licks the wound.

"Lettie."

Well, wait just a goddamn minute-

Immediately, I use my magic to push him off of me. Unfortunately for him, in my hubris and heightened emotional state from what we've just done, my magic is a little twitchy and it holds him hard up against the opposing wall. His blue eyes are wide with shock, but so are mine when I sit up and ask, "How the fuck do you know Lettie?"

By the pained look on his face, I know I'm not gonna like the answer.

Can I just not have to deal with one doppelgänger? This copycat is killing my lady boner.

*

A/n: Hi, all! Sorry for the late update, but with recent developments that started this year, I'm sure you can guess why I'd be distracted. I'm happy you all enjoyed the twist though! I hope you like this chapter since it got a little spicy. Thanks for the wonderful comments, can't wait to read more, and I hope you're all well. Love you, guys!

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