The last couple of days had consisted of me:
One: Trying to avoid my sister after she saw me brutally kill a vampire. He had threatened her, but I doubted that mattered in Elena's mind. Dead was still dead.
Two: Dodging my aunt's efforts to make up through thousands of phone calls. How did she have my new number? I still didn't know!
Three: Avoiding Jeremy. Mainly because I had a guilty conscience that I'd spent way more time with Jenna and Elena than with my baby bro since I got back. Despite our brief little Jenna-Alaric bonding moment at the Grill, I actually thought he didn't he liked me very much.
However, I couldn't keep up any of these acts for very much longer. When Jenna had called ten times in a row during the past minutes, I felt compelled to pick up.
"What?" I groaned tiredly into the phone, just having finished a twelve hour shift at the Grill. As always, I ended my day with collapsing on the couch, face first.
"You have to come over here. Now!" Jenna urged excitedly through the mobile and right into me ear.
"Where exactly is here? And why would I want to?" I asked, rolling over on my back to get access to and massage my forehead.
"The house," Jenna clarified in a whispering, rushed tone. "And trust me, you definitely want to come over." Her voice lowered even more. "Stefan's very hot brother is here!"
"Damon?" I sat up sharply.
"Yes!" Jenna exclaimed joyously. "I'd want to tap that, but I've already got Alaric. Now you on the other hand…" Oh no.
"Jenna, look–"
"No-uh!" she interrupted, sternly. "I know I wasn't fair to you about how Elena found out that she was adopted. But she and I have talked it out now. Yet you're still avoiding me. This is me making up for it, so get your ass over here!"
There really wasn't any room for arguing.
With just my luck, a surprised Elena opened the front door after I'd – for once – declared my presence by knocking.
"Parks!" It wasn't an 'Oh no! Not HER!' kind of surprised expression, more of an 'I didn't know you would be coming over!'
Elena stepped out of the way and allowed me to enter, her lips pursed into a small smile. Weird. I'd thought she would've slammed the door in my face and screamed out her hatred for me through it. Unless... What if she was okay with what I had done?
OH MY GOD! What had Elena's interference with this vampire-shit done to her?
Shrugging off my jacket, I threw it into the pile of clothes hanging by the door. It fell to the floor below the mess. Elena sighed, before picking it up.
A small mirror over the dresser in the hall revealed my rugged state. My messy hair was worn half-up and half-down in a bow-ish way, and my makeup looked worn out after an entire day's work; I knew I should have washed it off before leaving the house. But if you were instead to take a closer look at my outfit, then my loose ripped jeans and the worn-out gray sweater with a v-neck would precisely mirror my current mood: tired. Or exhausted. Take your pick.
"Can we talk?" Elena asked after she had finished her struggle and managed to hang up my jacket on a free clothing hook. Impressive.
"Now isn't really a good time…" I tried, attempting to move towards the kitchen, but Elena yanked me back by my arm.
"Please," she said, seriously. Cursing silently, I nodded, following her upstairs and into her bedroom. She closed the door behind us and moved to turn on the stereo. When loud pop music filled the room, Elena's shoulders instantly seemed to relax. I raised my brows in question at her, and she opened her mouth to explain.
Quickly summed up: Stefan had promised Damon that he would help free Katherine from the tomb, but it was a lie. Instead, Stelena were conspiring to get to some kind of journal before Damon, and thus find out where some grimoire was located, so that Damon wouldn't be able to use a spell from it to get into the tomb. Damn. Complicated.
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked my sister from the foot of her bed, watching her finish her act of pacing around; something she had occupied herself with during her story, only stopping every once in a while to listen after potential sounds giving away any eavesdroppers outside her bedroom door. But there was no risk for that, not with the loud music still playing.
"I wanna keep you posted on what's going on." Elena furrowed her brows, seeming surprised by my question. "You're my sister, Parks. I wanna share everything with you." Truly, I wished the feeling had been mutual. "And you're the only person I can talk to about all of this. Besides Stefan, of course. I really appreciate that."
"Yeah, I know." I waved off.
"No, Parks, listen. It means a lot to me." Elena grabbed my arm and gave it a light stroke, her eyes full of that genuine love which she was so very famous for. Damn my bloody sister and her ways of getting into my otherwise heart of stone.
"Fine," I breathed out slowly. "But that doesn't mean I'll help you." I pointed my finger into her bony chest.
"People might die if Damon opens that tomb," Elena argued.
"That's not my problem," I spoke, a bit harshly. Elena's hand left my arm, as if my skin had burnt her.
"Even if it's not," she said, whilst observing me with a new light in her eyes, "I'm not gonna let it happen." She'd been in action for, what, five minutes? And already the sacrificing hero. If only she knew that it wasn't all glorious and fun like the stories painted it out to be. The reality was a lot rougher than that. "But I can understand why you would think that," she added, clearly referring to my revealed past.
This was exactly what happened when you shared stuff with people! They use it against you. Although I never thought Elena wouldn't sink that low.
"Whatever." I rose from the bed. "You do what you gotta do. I'm hungry." With that, I moved past her and out the door.
"There you are!" Jenna greeted from her place hopped up on the light kitchen counter. She was sitting with her legs crossed and sipping from a glass filled with red wine, probably refilled more than a few times. However, what disturbed the sight in front of me wasn't my aunt growing more and more tipsy by the second, but Damon. Cooking.
"Hello, Parker." He sent a charming smile my way. When Jenna turned her head towards him, I took the chance to throw a murdering glance over her shoulder, but his grin only grew wider by it.
"Jenna," I spoke loudly through clenched jaws, still throwing daggers at Damon. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"
"Erm… Sure." Jenna took a wobbly leap down from the kitchen counter. Without a moment to lose, I sternly dragged her with me to the TV-room, making her stumble even more. We stopped where Jeremy was playing video games with the volume turned up loudly. Jenna took one look at the scene and frowned.
"Could you turn that down, Jer?" Jenna was forced to make her sigh extremely audible. "I can't hear myself think!" He rolled his eyes and sighed, but reached for the remote anyway. I placed my hand on his arm and shook my head.
"Turn it up," I told him. Jeremy smiled and obeyed happily, whilst Jenna shook her head disapprovingly, but something else caught her eye and forced away her attention from the loud problem.
"Wait! Are you wearing sneakers?" she exclaimed, shocked. I looked down at my feet, which were indeed wearing a pair of gray, low sneakers.
"Yes," I stated and clapped my feet together.
"But you never wear flat shoes! Are you sick? Lemme check." Jenna made an attempt to reach for my forehead, but I stepped out of her reach.
"I'm fine. Just tired." I needed to return her attention to the important topic at hand. "What is he doing here?" I wheezed and pointed back to the kitchen.
"Isn't it obvious?" Jenna joked, but her laugh was cut off by my stone expression. "Cooking," she instead explained in a more neutral tone.
"But why?" I insisted on knowing. Jenna shrugged and only kept eyeing Jeremy with her eyes squinted.
"Jer, seriously–" Damn, I had lost her.
I spun around, a little uncertain of where I wanted to be. Jenna only wished to set me up, Elena was being annoyingly heroic and conspiring, while Damon was being, well, Damon. I'd had enough of all of that. Which only left Jeremy, who was currently being harassed by Jenna for his game's loud volume.
Grunting, I left for the kitchen, feeling as if Damon was going to be the least bit annoying of the three. But as a bonus, I also got Elena. She entered the kitchen from the hallway as I took the path through the dining part of the first floor's open space, both arriving at the same time.
"Oh." Hello to you too, Elena. Her gaze flew to the almost finished meal, and she practically threw herself at the plates, hurrying past me to set the table whilst thoroughly avoiding eye contact. Nice. I looked up to see Damon's smug smile over by the stove.
"What?"
"Nothing." He turned away with a shrug. "It suddenly became freezing cold in here."
"Oh, what do you even know about cold? You're a frickin vampire," I muttered under my breath. Since I didn't want to go help Elena set the table, but couldn't just stand around in the middle of the room doing absolutely nothing, I stalked over to Damon. I had to tiptoe, since I was in my flats, to peer over his shoulder and look at the contents of the pot on the stove.
"Pasta," Damon stated for me. My feet had quickly grown tired of tiptoeing, they were sore after an entire day of work, so I brought my chin down to rest on his shoulder. I could feel the muscles in his neck twitch as he turned his head slightly to meet my gaze. Åh jösses, we were close. This scene – the 'no-air-between-our-faces' scene, that was – seemed awfully familiar. But there was no vampire to bump into my back and avert my attention this time. All I could do was stare at Damon's lips, feel his body slowly turn to face mine as my pulse grew quicker.
"Why pasta?" I asked in a somewhat husky voice.
"Italian roots," Damon mumbled back, tilting his head to the side to make the curves of our faces seemingly fit perfectly.
"Parks!" DAMMIT!
"Yes?" I sighed in frustration, angling my head back towards my sister's voice.
"Could you help me set the table," she grunted, pointing instructively towards the rest of the cutlery and the plates. It wasn't a question.
"Better do as the ice queen says." Damon whispered in my ear, his breath tickling my neck. I couldn't help the smile that spread on my face. Although it quickly faded when Elena's eyes pierced mine. Boy, she was mad.
I wandered over to her to pick up the plates, showing exaggeratedly that I was following her instructions. Her face remained frozen, only a strict finger pointing at me to start the chore. Rolling my eyes excessively much, I almost ended up seeing nothing but darkness when they graced my eyelids.
When I began setting the table, which Elena had done very poorly while I'd… talked to Damon, I could hear a new conversation being made over by the kitchen counter behind me. But, really? I was like 19 feet away! Did they truly think I couldn't hear them?
"Don't do that!" Elena wheezed.
"Do what?" Damon answered innocently.
"You know what. That move was deliberate." Even though I had my back against them, I could clearly picture Elena's accusing finger.
"Move? You mean having a perfectly nice conversation with Park–"
"DON'T," Elena warned. "God, I wish Stefan was here," she added mumbling, probably more to herself.
"Speaking of Stefan, where is he? He's missing family night, which I am enjoying immensely." This time, I could actually hear the smirk. Elena was probably seething just as much as the boiling water on the stove at this point. "Is it real?" Damon asked, out of the blue. The what now?
"Is what real?" Thank you, Elena! Couldn't have said it better myself.
"This renewed sense of brotherhood." Pause for… food tasting? Dramatic effect? Damn, I wish I could've turned around and looked! "Can I trust him?"
"Yes, you can trust him," Elena spoke, far too quickly. Uh-oh.
Another pause. I could hear Elena's footstep coming closer. Swiftly, I began aligning the cutlery next to the plates, pretending as if that was all I had been doing for the past couple of minutes. The whooshing sound of vamp-speed was heard, followed by Damon's voice, a lot closer this time
"Can I trust him?" he asked, much more serious.
"I'm wearing vervain, Damon. It's not going to work," Elena pointed out stupidly.
"I know. Who do you take me for?" Damon added a scoff. "I'm not compelling you. I just want you to answer me. Honestly."
This pause felt like it lasted for ages, and I dared taking a peek over my shoulder. They were a few feet behind me, Elena with her back turned against me, Damon staring at her with great anticipation. His gaze left my sister's face for a moment to seek out mine, maybe because he had felt it, and our eyes locked.
"Of course you can," Elena spoke, averting his attention back to her. Even I, without any nifty vamp-hearing, could hear the sound of her heart beat picking up in her chest. Crap.
"You should check on the food," I cleared the air with when the Salvatore's narrowed gaze became too intense for my liking. Damon followed my advice, probably since it was beginning to smell a teensy bit burnt.
My sister stared at me for a moment, then left the kitchen in a hurry. Smooth. No one would have suspected she was going to call Stefan or something… I just hoped she turned on the stereo again. Otherwise, I'd just have to occupy the potential eavesdropper in some other way.
"So," I began nonchalantly and moved closer to the stove and Damon, abandoning my duties of setting the table in the process, but screw them! "Did you ever trust Stefan? You know," I leaned in close to whisper, "before that whole 'chatty Kathy' thing resulted with Katherine being taken?"
"There was a time when I did. I actually trusted him more than anyone." Damon's voice suddenly sounded very far away, as if he was reliving a memory.
"Trust is tricky," I spoke, far too knowingly.
"I just want her back," Damon said, rapidly returning from his thoughts.
"You don't have to convince me." I held up my hands in an innocent gesture. "I get it. Love." For a fleeting thought, I was lost in buried memories.
Warm hands, soft kisses, smooth skin against skin. Cold words and a brutal ending.
When becoming aware of the blue orbs watching me intently, I cleared my throat.
"Sometimes you're willing to do whatever it takes to get that special person back. No matter who gets hurt," I added with a grave seriousness to my voice.
"I didn't think you would have a problem with that." Damon cocked a brow up. A challenge. Had he heard my conversation with Elena earlier? No, he couldn't have. That Katy Perry song had been LOUD.
"I don't. But Elena does. And if she was to get hurt…" I lowered my voice and spoke, slowly, "there would be hell to pay." Turning away slowly, I took a spoon from a bowl of sauce sitting on the counter next to the stove, twirling it between my fingers with dangerous precision.
He was silent for a moment. Then, I felt his body pressed close to my back.
"Then you understand what I will do if anyone gets in my way," Damon retorted with his lips brushing against my ear. His tone had taken on a threatening shade, similar to my own.
Without looking over my shoulder at him, I picked up the bowl and moved to set it on the table, not answering.