Clinging to me
Like a last breath you would breathe
You were like home to me
I don't recognize the street
September 2007:
"I got it, Katherine," Elena grumbled, attempting to heave the last of the two suitcases into the apartment. "Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can tomorrow... Yes, I am grateful for all you're doing to help me… I will be the best damn client you've ever had. I promise." Elena finally got the door closed behind her, the cell phone wedged between her shoulder and ear. "Look, I have to go, but I'll be there tomorrow…. Alright, bye."
Elena let out a deep exhale once the call ended. Ever since the movie had wrapped, Katherine's craziness had increased tenfold. It made sense. Elena had done her part. Now it was Katherine's turn. And after Elena's most recent request, Katherine was increasingly prepared to wring her neck.
Now that she wasn't lugging in six different bags all by herself, Elena could finally take in her surroundings. Although the apartment only had a few minor changes, it still felt completely unfamiliar. It was as if Elena had been gone for four years rather than four months.
Damon wasn't there. If he was, he was hiding pretty damn well. When she'd first unlocked the door to the apartment twenty minutes earlier, she'd just been happy the locks hadn't been changed. But she thanked her lucky stars that he wasn't there to greet her. She needed a little while to prepare. Just the idea of seeing him again after all of this time made her want to vomit from the nerves.
Elena tugged the final two bags into her room with her last bit of strength, not even bothering to start unpacking. Instead, she flipped one of the cases onto the floor, unzipping it and pulling out the first pair of pajama pants she saw and, after digging a bit more, an oversized t-shirt. After changing, she wandered back into the main area of the apartment.
Yet, once she was in there, she realized she had nothing to do. She didn't have a purpose, both literally and figuratively. The film shoot had gone way over time and budget, as this particular director was apparently prone to do, and because of it, the last month or so had been a mad rush to get everything done and perfected. Thanks to her overfilled schedule, Elena had barely had time to breathe. She'd kept herself so busy and occupied over the past few weeks that now, having no obligations or responsibilities, she felt… lost.
She made her way into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water, and then shuffling back into the living room. She didn't particularly feel like watching any TV and it was too late in the evening to find anything good, regardless. As she took a sip from the cup in her hands, she cautiously walked around the perimeter of the living room. Her gaze wandered over the large landscape Damon had been given by a client, the chip in the paint from when Elena had chucked the remote on the floor after a particularly frustrating scene and it had rebounded against the wall. She couldn't even recall what show it was, but she remembered hysterically laughing with him from the couch at the visible dent she'd caused.
Finally, Elena walked up to the mantle over the fireplace. Save for a few decorative elements and a framed picture, it was empty. The photograph was the main feature.
Elena vividly remembered when the picture was taken: their first night in LA. They didn't arrive until nearly two in the morning and they were both exhausted, pissed off, and starving after hours upon hours of travel. They'd assumed that by coming to such a big city, there would have to a restaurant or fast food place open nearby, but they drove around for nearly forty-five minutes without finding a single place. Finally, right at the point they were about to rip each other's heads off, they found a small, somewhat sketchy diner a good thirty minutes from their apartment. Right as they were walking up, though, the manager was outside to lock up, insisting that they were closed. But, after much pleading and some slightly humiliating begging, she finally gave in and told them they could have twenty minutes.
Elena hadn't been back to the diner since and part of her felt guilty for it. The manager, Kim, had warmed up to the pair, allowing them to stay far past their allotted time slot and sharing stories and tips about living in the city while Damon and Elena ate twice their daily calorie needs. Kim loved the idea of people dropping everything to come to LA and follow their dreams and gushed over the story of how the two had met. Before they could leave, Kim had insisted on taking a picture of them to commemorate their first night in LA. Neither Damon nor Elena had wanted their picture taken, but they felt like they couldn't refuse the woman that had been so kind to them.
Kim had actually snapped two shots of the duo. One had been fairly standard. They were sitting on the same side of the booth. Damon's arm rested on the top part of the seat while Elena sat next to him, each with a tired and polite smile on their face. But when Kim had emailed Damon the picture, she'd also attached another one she'd snapped accidentally. In it, Elena's mouth was contorted into a mixture of a pout and a frown, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. Damon was still next to her, but this time his gaze was directly on her, his expression slightly teasing. To this day, neither were quite sure what had led to that particular photograph, but they both decided that it was more them than the other posed one. In turn, that had been the shot they'd purchased a cheap frame for and placed directly on the center of their mantle.
She was knocked out of her reverie by the sound of the door being unlocked. Elena jumped, some of the water sloshing out and onto her hand. Damon.
Elena was frozen in her spot until a rush of panic came over her as she realized that he might have a girl with him given how late it was. He would be even less thrilled to see her if she scared off his latest conquest.
Like a bullet, Elena raced back towards her bedroom, placing the glass of water as carefully as she could onto the breakfast bar when she passed it. Just as she closed the door to her own room, she heard Damon enter.
Elena leaned her ear against the wood, listening to see if she could pick up any sounds of another woman. She knew she would seem pretty pervy if she was caught, but she just had to make sure. But the longer she stood there, the less convinced she became that Damon had a guest. She heard him throw his keys into the bowl in the foyer, chuck what sounded like his briefcase onto his side of the apartment, and then make his way into the kitchen. If he did have company, he wasn't being a great host.
Suddenly, the sounds of his normal activity stopped. He was either stock still in one place or Elena had lost the ability to hear. Finally, after what felt like ages, she heard him speak.
"Elena?"
Elena took a sharp inhale at the sound of his voice. She hadn't heard it since May and the knowledge that he was now only a few steps away from her was incredibly overwhelming. Elena immediately stepped back from the door, falling into a seated position on her bed.
Elena was terrified. She'd spent far too much time picturing this moment and now that it was here, all she wanted to do was crawl under the bed and hide. It could go right in so many ways. It could go wrong in so many ways. And Elena desperately didn't want to take the risk. The fury in his eyes from that night at the beach house was still a vivid memory and she couldn't imagine having to see it again.
But, then, Elena remembered what else Damon had told her that night. The phrase that had dictated nearly her entire summer: grow up. She realized that Damon was her crutch in that field, her kryptonite. She had to be stronger than the scared little girl who was hiding away in her room or else a whole summer of trying otherwise had been for naught.
Elena took a shaky breath, pushing herself up off of her mattress and making her way to the door. Another bolt of anxiety rushed through her as she twisted the doorknob, but she was determined to shake it off. But after she twisted the handle, she learned she wouldn't have to walk too far.
Damon was already standing only two feet from her bedroom, looking just as surprised to see her, as she was to see him.
Elena felt her breath catch in her throat as she took Damon in. His expensive suit was wrinkled, hair matted to one side. She even noticed the slightest bit of stubble on his face, which was uncommon for his conservative style.
Elena would be a fucking liar if she said he wasn't still goddamned gorgeous.
Thankfully, Damon was the first to break the silence after clearing his throat. "Hey."
Elena couldn't read the emotions on his face for the life of her. It definitely wasn't delight, but he didn't seem upset that she was there either. "Hey," she mumbled back.
The few seconds following their greeting were pivotal for their relationship and it all depended on one thing: would he hug her? In one of Elena's many imagined scenarios for this moment, Damon immediately pulled her into his arms as they both apologized profusely and then spent the rest of the night telling stories to catch each other up on their time apart. But Elena knew the chances of that happening were slim. She realized that she'd missed him desperately over the summer but she doubted that the feeling was mutual. Maybe he'd finally learned he was better off.
But just like that, the opportunity for a happy reunion was taken away as Damon continued the uncomfortable and awkward atmosphere of the room. "Did I wake you?"
Elena let out an exhale. Clearly, her dream of this all being easy was just that: a dream. Whatever had held them together as friends at the beach had been broken, possibly irreparably and now they were just left as acquaintances that lived together. She could read his eyes perfectly. He didn't really want to be talking to her either.
She decided honesty was her best policy at that point. After all, what did she have to lose? "No. I, uh, heard you coming in and thought you might have had company. I didn't want to interrupt anything so I…."
Damon responded with a nod, still not giving her much to work with. "Got it. But, nah, I was just working late." The awkward silence filled the space again and Damon felt just uncomfortable enough to try and fill it again. "Besides, you don't have to ever worry about that. I don't bring women back here."
Elena wasn't sure why he'd included that piece of information. She was also desperate to inquire as to why he didn't, but she didn't want to push her luck. "How did you realize I was here?"
Damon furrowed his eyebrows, not totally understanding her question. "Oh, right," he muttered, finally gathering what she was asking. "The water on the counter. I assumed it had to be you or a thirsty burglar."
Elena smirked. Even in the strangest of moments, Damon found some way to crack a joke. But now, Elena was left with no response. After all of the time she'd had to prepare, she couldn't think of a single thing to say to him. Well, nothing that would leave her with her dignity intact.
"Well, I, uh, should go to bed," Damon mumbled. Elena flinched at his apathetic tone.
"Yeah, sure, of course. Good night, then… I guess." Elena hated the way she stumbled through her words. She'd wanted that slim possibility of reconciliation without effort far more than she'd realized. She wanted to tell him everything about her summer. She wanted her friend back. But clearly, she'd shut that door on herself.
Damon simply nodded and began walking down the hall. Elena watched his retreating back, leaning into the doorframe with a quiet sigh. But, suddenly remembering what she'd discussed with Katherine earlier, she straightened up.
"Damon?"
He stopped right before he went out of her line of sight, turning to face her. His expression was, once again, unreadable. "Yeah?"
Elena took in a deep breath. Making the decision had been easy. Reporting it back to him… not so much. "I, uh, talked to Katherine today and she's going to set me up with my own apartment."
The flicker of emotion that flashed across Damon's eyes was so brief that Elena couldn't identify it. But she was thankful that it was something, even if it had been a flicker of relief. She'd rather spend the night in a screaming match with Damon than just talk to this hollow shell.
"Oh."
A pang of pain hit Elena in the stomach. That word was filled with way too much interpretation and Lord knows she'd spend the next three months of her life trying to figure out what he'd meant. By the time she could even fathom a response, Damon continued on his way, leaving Elena even more lost than she'd felt before.
"Alright, so is this the part where you tell me you're madly in love with me?"
Elena coughed, mistakenly having taken a sip of water when Caroline asked her question. "I'm sorry?"
Caroline leaned back into the wooden chair, twirling a curly blonde lock around her index finger as she studied Elena. "I don't know. You called me up out of the blue to hang out saying you needed to talk. I just assumed you had a crush."
Elena smirked. "I didn't realize that was the easiest assumption to make. You make it seem like this happens often to you."
"Twice," Caroline replied without hesitation, earning wide eyes from Elena. "Swear to God. One of them was probably going to propose if I hadn't cut him off."
Elena giggled. When she'd called Caroline earlier that day asking to go to lunch, it definitely hadn't been to ask for her hand in marriage. She'd simply missed her friends from set. Stefan was off doing a press circuit for a film he'd shot previously so Caroline had been the next runner-up. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not into you like that."
Caroline smirked, her eyes teasing. "Damn. I probably would have said yes. Can you imagine how hot we would be? They would eat it up."
By "they," the blonde was referring to the media. Elena had learned over the last few months that actors discussed their fame and celebrity with almost no shame or modesty. Not because they were filled with pride and vanity, but simply because it was part of the job. They constantly had to be aware of how they were perceived and where they were ranked in the grand scheme.
Elena was continually surprised that Caroline wasn't absurdly famous yet. If anyone had earned that right, it was Caroline Forbes. She'd been working since she was a toddler, covering almost every single realm of the industry. Yet, she was still able to sit out at the open-air restaurant with Elena without a second glance in her direction from neighboring diners. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Caroline was still stunning, the kind of beautiful that you just have to stare at simply because it's comforting for the eyes.
"Well, to be honest, I wanted your advice on something," Elena replied, pausing to smile at the waiter as he brought them two elaborate plates of salad.
Once they were set up, Caroline gave Elena a roll of the eyes. "Well, I'm honored, but I don't think I'm exactly the most qualified person to be giving advice."
Elena gave her a pointed look. "It's about a guy."
Caroline's eyes lit up and she dropped her fork on her plate. "Well, then never mind. Spill… now."
"Don't get too excited," Elena mumbled. "It's nothing like that."
Caroline's eyebrows quirked. "Is this about Stefan?" The trio had probably been the closest out of all of the other cast members. Caroline had played "the wife," otherwise known as the woman Stefan's character was cheating on with Elena's. Caroline and Stefan had known each other previously through mutual friends and since Stefan had taken a liking to Elena early on, they'd formed a tightly knit group over the course of the shoot. Caroline was continually convinced that Stefan's liking towards Elena was more than just a platonic one, but Elena rarely gave it a second thought.
"Uh, no. It's about the roommate."
"Ahh, yes. The infamous roommate. How is he doing?" Caroline only knew a small bit of information about Damon. She knew he was Elena's roommate and that he'd known her far before LA, but beyond that, she hadn't paid much attention.
"He's… okay. Look, the problem isn't him, though. It's me."
"So you like him."
"Caroline!"
"Good lord, calm down. It's not middle school." Caroline smirked, stabbing a piece of lettuce with her fork.
"I know that," Elena flushed. The comment was particularly cutting given its sensitive timing. "I just… it's not like that. This is about me wanting to be friends with him again. Nothing else."
"You didn't answer my question," Caroline countered with a pointed look.
Elena sighed. "Yes, fine. I 'like' him, but that's not why I'm asking for your help." Elena ignored Caroline's pleased smile and continued. "He was my best friend before all of this... shit went down and I can't really deal with the idea that he might hate me."
"Alright, so what's the issue? Why did you two 'break up' anyways?"
Elena chewed her bottom lip, not really sure how much she should tell her. She'd told Stefan nearly every detail and he'd simply determined that Damon was being a dick and she should move on as quickly as possible. Caroline might actually give her decent advice. "He just… he told me at the beginning of the summer that I needed to 'grow up.' He's older and experienced and just overall a hell of a lot more put together than I am. And every time I get around him, I just act like this babbling, incompetent twelve year old girl."
Elena paused, twirling the fork between her fingers while it scraped the bottom of the plate. "Look, I know I'm not exactly the most mature person out there. He was right when he told me that. I spent all summer trying to be an 'adult.' I reigned in my emotions. I was responsible. I did all the right things. But now, I'm here and I have to prove it to him if I want our friendship back. I just have no idea how."
Caroline sighed. "Well, you seem like an adult to me. Definitely more than I am and I'm almost twenty-four."
"But you've only known me for the summer! He's seen me at my absolute weakest and most childish. It's going to take a hell of a lot more to convince him I've changed."
"Ooh, show him some tax forms!"
A small smile crept onto Elena's face. "Caroline, I'm serious. I've got to think of something or else I'm going to lose him forever.
Caroline's demeanor changed as she realized how dejected Elena was. Her lips pursed as she considered Elena's dilemma. "Well… taking care of someone is pretty adult."
Elena shook her head. "How could I take care of him? Like I said, he has his shit together."
"We could inject him with the flu virus while he's sleeping…"
"Caroline!" Elena cried, unable to stop the laughter from bubbling over her lips. She shook her head back and forth. Caroline had been right earlier. She definitely wasn't the best person to ask for advice, but at least she was making Elena smile.
"Fine," Elena groaned. "Just… tell me about your date last night. I can tell you've been dying to all afternoon."
Just as predicted, Caroline's eyes sparkled and she began the dramatic retelling of her evening. Elena simply sat back and listened, ignoring the pit in her stomach as she recognized that she was still left with nothing on the Damon front.
Caroline was a friend and that was exactly what she needed right now.
Elena groaned into her hands, the words on the page blurring slightly from how long she'd been staring at them. She fought back the urge to chuck her laptop against the living room wall.
Over the summer, Elena had started writing. Not that she was planning on informing anyone of her new hobby. She could already tell it wasn't exactly quality material. Regardless, Elena enjoyed it. Whenever she'd spent a lonely night at the beach house while the legal members of the cast went out and had a good time, she'd pull her computer out and start typing… anything. She'd pen long essays of her thoughts or simple ramblings about her day. She'd started over six different books, screenplays, and short stories. They were all just for her and she liked that. It was her outlet, her escape. But, of course, tonight, the words just weren't flowing. And her third idea for a screenplay was coming out to be total shit.
Just as she was about to give up and turn on the television for the second night in a row, her cell phone started to ring. And the name on the caller ID caused her brow to furrow.
"Ric?"
"Hey, Elena! Can you hear me?"
"Um, barely," Elena replied, standing up and crossing to the sliding glass doors. The background on his end of the line was bursting with loud music and shouts. "Where are you?"
"Hold on," Alaric grumbled. She could faintly hear him telling someone he'd be right back and then lots of shuffling as he made his way to a quieter place. When he spoke again, the background chatter was down to a dull roar. "Better?"
"Yeah, yeah. What's up? Is everything okay?"
"Uh, yeah. Everything's fine. It's just…" Ric heaved a large sigh. "Have you talked to Damon recently?"
Elena scoffed. "I think you know the answer to that one." She knew Alaric and Damon had begun spending a lot more time together as of late.
"Right, sorry. Okay, well anyways, he and I went out tonight and he decided to get completely shitfaced which is fine normally but…"
Alaric trailed off but Elena smirked as she filled in the blanks. "Let me guess. You scored?"
Ric laughed bashfully. "Well, I have a pretty good chance. Look, I really didn't want to call you, but he's kind of a mess right now and refusing to take a taxi. Like I said, normally I would be the good guy and take him home but-"
"But she's really hot and chauffeuring a wasted idiot kind of kills the mood. Ric, I get it. It's fine. I can come get him."
He let out a loud exhale. "Did I ever tell you how madly in love I am with you?"
"Yeah, yeah. Just give me the address."
"Woah, there." Elena swooped in, grabbing the tumbler away from Damon before he could consume any more liquor. "That's not even close to happening."
Damon's face contorted in displeasure as she slid the glass down the bar towards some confused looking women. "Why are you here?" He slurred.
"Because, Cinderella, it's almost midnight. Can't have you turning into a pumpkin. Now, let's go."
Damon frowned. "Cinderella doesn't turn into a pumpkin. Her carriage does."
Elena rolled her eyes. "I didn't realize your fairytale logic increases when you're drunk."
"One of my many talents," Damon grunted. Elena watched as his head began to droop towards the bar top.
"Alright, Damon," she complained, reaching out to lift it back up. "Seriously, don't make me drag you out of here."
Damon scoffed. "You can't drag me. You're too tiny." He pinched his fingers together to emphasize his point, but his hand simply fell to the side.
"No, you're right. But I know someone that can."
"Alaric left. He's getting… sex." Damon paused, his eyebrows furrowing as though he were contemplating the meaning of life. "And I'm not. Something's wrong here."
"What's wrong here is how absurdly intoxicated you are." Right as the last word fell from her lips, the bartender was crossing in front of them. "Excuse me!" Elena called.
The bartender stopped. He was fairly attractive, but he had the completely unappealing stench of douchebag written all over him. "Hey, beautiful," he replied, his eyes dragging up and down the part of her figure he could see. "What can I do for you?"
Elena groaned. "Oh, give me a break. I'm wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. I'm not buying anything from you." His smile dropped immediately at her extreme disdain. "Now, here's the deal. Either you or one of your bouncer friends is going to help get my friend into my car or I'm going to happily report you all for blatantly over-serving him." Although the bartender tried to maintain his cool, she could see the small amount of fear in his eyes at her threat and it caused a surge of pride to rush through her.
He made some sort of signal to grab the bouncer's attention as Elena went to help get the first half of Damon's body up from his seat. But the second she touched his shoulders, he jostled her off. Elena bit back a growl. At least she had strength on her side.
"Damon, come on. Don't make this difficult," she reasoned. She hoped he still had enough dignity to not want to be dragged out on his ass. On cue, the intimidating bouncer had joined the pair.
"What seems to be the problem?" He asked, his voice gruff.
Elena turned her attention to him. "I need help getting him out of here. He's being stubborn-"
Damon suddenly let out a growl, his expression one of disgust. "Oh my god, I'm getting up! I'm getting up. I don't need to be carried." He pushed himself up and off the bar, the strain on his face nearly comical as he did so. Without waiting for Elena, he simply began heading towards the door.
"Do you still need me?" The bouncer inquired.
Elena's gaze was torn between following her uncoordinated roommate and dealing with the offered help. "Uh, I guess not. Just… stay close in case he tries to bolt." Elena reached into her purse, pulling out her wallet so that she could tip him for his service, but she was stopped by his large hand gently batting hers away.
"Nah, m'am. Don't worry about me. Looks like you have enough to deal with tonight." His head nodded towards the stumbling Damon.
Elena smiled. She wanted to argue with him, but she realized arguing with a guy three times her size was probably not the most brilliant idea. "Yeah, he'll be… fun."
After thanking him, Elena pushed her way through the crowds, catching Damon right as he went to reach for the door handle. She was able to cut past him before he could go down the street in the wrong direction, mostly because his coordination was almost as far gone as he was. "Car's this way."
"Why'd you pay him?" Damon mumbled, luckily allowing her to guide him towards the parking deck.
"I didn't, Damon," Elena replied, his weight starting to droop into her hands. "But I was going to because he helped me."
"I help you," he shot back. "You don't pay me."
Elena bit her lip, grimacing slightly as nearly half of Damon's mass leaned into her. She adjusted her grip as they reached the cement walls of the parking garage. "No, I don't. But I'll be out of your hair soon enough."
Damon was silent for the rest of the walk over to the car. Once they arrived, Elena rested him on the side door as she fumbled with the keys. Getting him into the passenger seat wasn't exactly her most graceful moment, but at least he didn't try to run.
"Can you buckle yourself, Damon?" His blank stare was straight ahead and it slightly worried Elena. "Damon?"
"Not in my hair," he grumbled.
Elena's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
"You're… you're not in my hair," Damon replied, his voice slightly more determined. "You're in my…" He trailed off for a few minutes as a sound somewhere between a wheeze and a cough escaped from his lips. "Heart," he finally got out.
Elena's eyes widened, feeling her own heart beat more quickly. "What?" she repeated. Except this time, his answer was far more important to her.
But instead of a sentimental or dazed expression like she expected, Damon's face was now pained and he let out a groan. "My heart," he complained. His breath quickened. "It's beating really fast."
Elena's wide eyes were now filled with panic rather than wonder. Adrenaline rushed through her veins. Her maternal instinct kicked in as every worst case scenario passed through her brain. "Hey, hey, Damon, you're going to be fine. Just try to take deep breaths." She grabbed onto Damon's hand who slightly squeezed it as he attempted to calm his breathing while she dug through her purse for her cell phone. When she finally finagled it out, her shaking fingers could barely dial the three numbers.
"Elena, fuck," Damon groaned, reaching out with his other hand to grab the phone from her. "Don't call the damn hospital! I'll be fine."
Elena's gaze shot up to him. She was grateful that his cheeks had slightly more color in it and that he no longer looked scared, but she was not going to put up with his stubbornness simply because he didn't like doctors. "No way, Damon. You need to get this checked out."
Damon replied through deep breaths. "Elena, it happens sometimes. I've had it since I was a kid. I had some energy drinks as mixers… My body got a little pissed off. Seriously, it's already slowing down."
Elena's own heart was probably beating faster than his was, but this was probably the most lucidity he'd had all night. His gaze was pleading as it fell on her. She could tell he was doing his best to convince her. "Damon, I swear to God-"
"I promise, Elena! I'll be fine. I just need to go get some sleep." He now looked almost normal, although his drunken flush was returning. Whatever episode he'd had was over.
Elena hit him on the arm. "Jesus Christ, Damon! You scared me."
"Ouch," Damon groaned. "I still feel like shit."
"Good," Elena mumbled. "You should. I'll also be checking your pulse every half hour tonight, so get ready for some rude awakenings."
"Fine," Damon grumbled. "Just take me home."
Elena sighed, giving him one last long glance to be reassured that he'd be fine. She hoped he wasn't bullshitting when he said it had happened before. Her alcohol knowledge was so slim she really didn't have anything to compare the situation to. After calming herself down enough to drive, she pushed away from the car, closing the passenger door and making her way to the driver's side.
By the time they made it into the front door of the apartment, Damon was basically nonfunctional. He had to lean his entire body weight against her, his speech was so slurred it sounded foreign, and his eyelids kept flickering closed. Elena made sure to lock the door behind her, throwing the keys on the counter as she leaned him against the wall. Thankfully, he seemed able to stand on his own.
She made her way into the kitchen, searching for a glass so she could put some water next to his bed. Elena paused her search, however, when she felt his presence directly behind her.
"What's that?" His voice was groggy, but damn it if it wasn't causing her to flush regardless.
"What's what?" She replied calmly, heading towards the sink to fill an obtained glass with water.
"That." Elena turned her head and noticed that he was pointing at something on the far end of the counter. Elena followed his gaze to a covered cake plate that held her project from earlier that evening.
"That is your belated birthday cake." Elena had spent her night, before she'd settled on the couch to write, baking. She'd missed his birthday over the summer while they'd been apart and she decided to make it up to him as another last-ditch effort to win him over. She also had a card for him, but she was still deciding whether or not she was actually going to give it to him. "August 3rd, right?"
Damon was silent for a moment, but it wasn't too unsettling given his state. When she turned to walk him to his room, he finally mumbled out his new favorite one-syllable response. "Oh."
For what felt like the eighteenth time that night, Elena bit back a growl. She was starting to get really sick of not being able to tell where Damon's head was. She was about five seconds from screaming at him to just tell her exactly what he was thinking.
Damon collapsed onto his bed face first the moment they walked into the room. Elena placed the full glass next to him on the night table, knowing that whenever he woke up again, he would definitely need hydration. She made her way to the end of the bed, yanking off his shoes one by one and chucking them onto the floor.
"Expensive," Damon slurred in protest, his voice muffled by the duvet.
"I don't really care, Damon," Elena murmured. "Now get under the covers, please."
Damon grumbled but didn't put up much resistance, awkwardly shuffling to a crouched position so he could pull himself under the blankets. Elena knew he'd probably be more comfortable with his shirt off, but she decided he could suffer for a little bit longer.
Elena stared at him as he laid on his back, head slightly turned, eyes shut, and a frown marring his features. She suddenly had a brief flashback to the alcohol education seminar the university had required her to take and she crossed to his bathroom to grab the small trash can, bringing it back to place it directly next to his bed.
"Damon," she whispered. He didn't even flinch. She couldn't tell if he was asleep or just ignoring her.
Worry propelled her to keep trying. She sat down on the small edge of the bed his body had left on his side and pushed his matted hair off of his forehead, finally causing him to stir. His eyes blinked open, staring at her as though he was surprised she was still there.
"Damon, I'm leaving the trash can right here. If you feel sick, I need you to use it. I also want you to call me if your heart starts up again… Okay?"
Damon continued to stare up at her and she was slightly concerned he hadn't heard her. "Damon-"
"You look different."
Elena sighed. She would just have to hope that he'd listened to her plea. "How so?" She murmured.
"Older. You look older."
Elena blinked, taking in a breath. Suddenly, Caroline's words from earlier that week flashed through her mind. "Taking care of someone is pretty adult." Elena swallowed, releasing a polite smile as she pushed herself off of the bed and left the room. Maybe, just maybe, they were moving in the right direction.
Damon held back a groan as his wet hand only hit metal bar. He'd reached his hand out to grab a towel off of the rack, but, as he now realized, he was shit out of luck. He pushed the glass door of the shower open even further, frustrated with himself for not realizing his error sooner.
He knew Elena was somewhere in the apartment, but he didn't think it would be the smartest idea in the world if he wandered out naked to the linen closet. His next best bet, though, still involved her.
Damon stepped out of the glass shower, making his way to the door as he cracked it open just slightly. He grimaced as the air conditioning hit his wet skin. "Hey, Elena!"
After only a few seconds, Elena appeared in the small hallway that connected his bedroom and bathroom together, her eyebrows furrowed at his odd positioning. "Is everything okay?"
Her calming voice brought back unpleasant memories from the prior evening and also reminded him of how shitty he felt. "Uh, yeah. Can you do me a favor, though?" Elena nodded. "A towel?" A wave of embarrassment flowed through him. She'd spent all night catering to his ridiculous whims. Now he had to ask her to walk a few feet just to get a damn towel. Yeah, he had some serious sucking up to do.
Elena nodded again, seemingly unfazed by the request and headed towards the closet. After she came back with the aforementioned towel, Damon smiled in thanks, grabbing it from her and moving back, making sure the door obscured her from his view as he wrapped it around his waist. When he pulled the door open once he was decent, Elena was already heading back to the main part of the apartment.
"Elena," Damon called. Elena turned, her expression a mixture of worry and curiosity. "Can we talk?"
The concern on her features tripled at his words, but she nodded regardless, coming into the bathroom. He noted her clear efforts to avoid looking anywhere but his face and he held back a smirk. Even after months of being apart, the parts of her that were so inherently Elena were still present and it was inexplicably comforting. Especially since her actions over the past few weeks had been practically unrecognizable.
Elena hopped up on the counter next to the second sink, her legs lightly dangling over the edge. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Decent enough to go to work," Damon replied, grabbing a bottle of cleanser off of the counter top. "Shitty enough to bitch about it to Alaric all day."
Elena mockingly pouted. "Aw, don't do that," she teased. "He probably had a successful night. Let him enjoy it for a little bit longer."
Damon smirked. "God, that's right. Ric got laid last night. Something is definitely wrong in the world."
Elena rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you mentioned that already."
Damon's smirk fell away at her words and he suddenly remembered how much he owed her. He paused his routine, focusing his gaze on her. "Look, last night was fucked up of me. I made some stupid mistakes and you shouldn't have had to come in and clean up my mess. I'm sorry for the way I treated you last night and that you had to waste your evening taking care of me."
Elena's face flushed slightly, but she shook her head back and forth regardless. "You don't have to apologize to me, Damon. You're allowed to fuck up every once in a while. You're not… totally ancient yet." Her words ignited a smirk on Damon's face. "Besides, I kind of owe you in the whole 'taking care of each other' department." Elena's meek gaze immediately fell to her lap.
Damon recognized that they were both tap-dancing around the elephant in the room: their fight at the beach. This was the most serious, god-honest conversation they'd had since then and he wasn't really sure where they stood. He'd told her to grow up and she had…. Hadn't she? Ever since she'd been home, she'd been selfless, truthful, and just overall more put-together than she'd ever been before. But he also realized the time he'd spent with her since she'd come back had been trivial. How would he really know she'd matured, the change that needed to happen to make their relationship work, if he didn't let her all the way back in? And if that was the only way, was he willing to do it?
Damon cleared his throat, realizing he'd zoned out in his own thoughts for a little too long. "How is the apartment search going?"
He swore he saw the slightest of flinches cross over her features at his words, but she met his gaze directly. "Well. Katherine's found me a place. We just have to figure out all of the ridiculous paperwork, get approved… that sort of thing."
Damon sucked his bottom lip between his teeth in thought. There was another question that had been plaguing him: did he actually want her to move out? He was fairly sure it was the best decision for both of them. Close quarters typically led to shitty choices. But did he want it? Had all of this time spent apart really determined that they were better off without the other?
"Oh," Damon nodded, going to grab his shaving cream from the cabinet. But before he could, Elena's hot grip caught his wrist.
"Oh my god," she growled. "What the hell does that even mean?!"
Damon frowned, surprised at her outburst. "What does what mean?"
"What does 'oh' mean?!" Elena cried exasperatedly. "You've said it like six times since I've been back and I have no idea what the fuck you're saying so, please, explain it to me."
He sighed. Damon knew it was a cop-out, but it was the best way to summarize his emotions towards everything. It was either one syllable or fifty thousand. "Oh" just seemed to save them some time.
"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I'm not really sure what… any of it means." Damon waved his hands in a sweeping gesture, but Elena knew what "any of it" referred to. Their fucked up relationship (if it still existed), her decision to move out, each of their actions from the previous night. Neither participant seemed willing to sit down and "Oprah" themselves through a deep, meaningful conversation. So, instead, the stubborn pair were stuck in limbo until one or the other broke. And Damon was beginning to fear that they were both just going to combust at the exact same time.
Elena took in a deep breath as her tight grip on his wrist loosened. "Well," she murmured. "We're talking, aren't we? I feel like that's some sort of positive progression."
Damon let out an exhale, lowering his wrist as Elena took her hand off of his arm entirely. "Yeah, you're right. I think this is the most we've talked since…" He trailed off. She could fill in the blanks.
Elena nodded, more resolute in her calm determination. "Well, then we'll just keep talking, even if it's stupid stuff. We can keep moving forward with our own lives, but we just need to… talk every once in a while. Okay?"
A small smile tugged at Damon's lips. "Yeah, of course. I'm fine with talking."
Elena matched his smile. "Good."
They were silent for a few moments as Damon went back to getting ready for work. Elena was the one to finally break it. "Damon, why didn't you tell me about your heart… thing?"
He shrugged, keeping his gaze focused on the mirror as he shaved. "I don't know. It's really not that big of a deal. Sometimes, my heart just overreacts to stuff. It's really, really rare, but it happens. I just have to make sure I can sit somewhere and let it slow itself down. It's not gonna kill me unless I aggravate the problem when it occurs." He shifted his focus to her. Elena still seemed worried and he smiled in an attempt to comfort her. "Look, if it was actually an issue, you would have found out about it a lot sooner. I survived last night, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you just scared the fuck out of me in the process."
Damon nodded, understanding why it could freak someone out. His mom had nearly had her own heart attack the first time she'd gone through it. "I've been taught what to do if I actually can't control it on my own. There's a damn cheesy hand signal and everything."
Elena's eyes widened. "You should teach it to me," she said eagerly. "You know, just in case."
Damon sighed. "I will later." Elena looked unconvinced. "Seriously, I will. But I have to get ready for work. I'm already running late."
Elena finally nodded, giving up on her quest momentarily. She hopped off the counter and started to make her way out of the bathroom. She abruptly turned, though, at the doorframe. "You might want to take your cake with you to the office. It really only tastes good shortly after it's made. Plus, you don't need all of the calories."
Damon's jaw dropped in mocking shock. "Excuse me?" He fought back a grin at the pleased smile on her face.
"You heard me," she shot back, pivoting on her heel. "Got to stay in shape for all the ladies you're banging," Elena called out over her shoulder as she strutted away.
Damon stood in his place, in total awe over her brazen remarks. If this was positive progress, he was more than willing to play along.
"Damon?"
Elena's voice rang out into what seemed like an empty apartment. She closed the front door behind her, flipping the switch so that it dead bolted. "Damon?"
After a few seconds and no reply, Elena cursed under her breath. Great. Just what she needed to add to her already crazed head: the idea of Damon out tonight fucking some other girl. Just perfect.
Elena was about five seconds from collapsing into the ground. She was exhausted. Every muscle in her body ached from the amount of shit it had been put through that day. She'd gone to her last major photo shoot before press for the film officially began kicking in. And while it was supposed to have been relatively quick and painless, it had become quite the opposite.
She'd been awake since 4:30 that morning and was just coming home at nearly two in the morning the next day. She wasn't exactly sure how she'd managed to stay awake for twenty-two hours straight while she'd posed, shoved herself into countless uncomfortable outfits, and made nice with important people, all the while maintaining the same ridiculous grin on her face.
On top of feeling physically awful, her psyche had also taken a beating that day. There was practically no piece of clothing on the entire set that had fit her properly. Her boobs were falling out of one dress, her ass wouldn't fit into another pair of pants… it had been humiliating. And although she was far from fat and it was more than likely the magazine's fault, to both the photographer and Katherine's standards she might as well have been a morbidly obese failure.
Once the shoot was over, Katherine had pulled Elena aside and given her a strict reaming. Added to the expected lecture on Elena's weight and her need to get into better shape for the press tour, Katherine had also ripped into Elena for her "shitty attitude," an attitude Elena had no idea she'd even had. Katherine insisted that Elena had been acting ungrateful, whiny, and spoiled ever since she'd come back from filming.
This, of course, was the most hurtful thing Elena could possibly hear. Fuck the weight comments. Hearing that she was apparently still coming off like a child after her continual efforts to do otherwise made her nearly sick. She was becoming convinced that there was literally nothing that would make her seem more grown up. And she was beginning to wonder if her chance at a friendship with Damon was already long gone.
Now that she was back in the apartment, all Elena wanted to do was sleep and escape her crazy world for a little while. But as her gaze fell on a cardboard box in the back corner of the living room, she suddenly remembered what tomorrow was.
Tomorrow was move-out day.
Katherine had finally, after much teeth pulling, secured Elena an apartment twenty miles from Damon's. It was beautiful, although not Elena's style in the slightest, but she didn't have the right to be choosy. Getting an apartment in LA was a hassle, especially since Katherine was so convinced Elena was going to be exorbitantly famous within the next few months. She'd spent the past few weeks touring places, packing up her own things, and filling out constant paperwork. It was just another stressor she'd added to her schedule and as she realized she would be spending her last night in the apartment alone, her stomach turned.
She and Damon had been… amicable since their conversation in his bathroom. Nothing close to that level of candid sincerity, but enough to keep stringing her along. Deep down, she'd wanted Damon to say that he wasn't happy she was moving out, but he always seemed strangely apathetic. Neither eager to see her go nor desperate to make her stay.
She knew she was making the right decision, the adult decision for both of them, but it didn't make it any less painful. This had been their place. They'd come here together, both ready to start anew and fresh. They'd watched cheesy guilty pleasure TV on the couch. They'd had coffee at the dining room table on the mornings they weren't rushing out the door and told each other about their day. Other more poignant memories came to mind as well. Like the time she'd put forth her best efforts at seduction in this living room just to win an argument. Or when they'd watched the sunset off of their balcony, celebrating Damon's first win with her first taste of champagne. This place was theirs. And she was now convinced that by leaving, nothing would ever be theirs again.
And with that, she broke. Every pent-up emotion, every pain she'd pushed down under the surface because it would be too childish of her to show came out. Every rough day on set. Every wave of loneliness. Every insecurity and fear. Every heartbreaking reminder that she'd lost her one and only best friend. It all burst out of her at once, unable to remain deep down inside. She hadn't cried since they'd fought at the beach and she finally let it out after months of keeping it in. And she cried harder as she realized she'd ruined her streak.
Elena couldn't even hold herself up, sliding down to the floor as more sobs bubbled forth. It was an ugly, painful cry, the kind where your face grows red and swollen, both your eyes and nose leak, and you're forced to take exaggerated inhales and exhales just to continue on. Her chest ached from the force of them and she could already feel her throat tightening from the exertions.
She just wanted to cry. She wanted to mourn. She wanted to feel.
Her focused, blurred gaze into the carpet was suddenly altered, though, by a shadow. Elena's sobs abruptly stopped, the instinct of fear kicking in as her gaze shot up. But the reason for the dark silhouette was not an intruder or hell-bent trespasser, but rather the main reason for her tears. He stood in front of her, his expression giving nothing away except for the parted lips. She had no clue if he was furious or disappointed, but at least, she knew exactly how she felt.
"Fuck!" Elena cried. "Damnit." He must have been in the apartment the whole time. Maybe he'd been asleep or had headphones in when she'd called his name. It didn't matter. She'd finally cracked and, because life was so damn unfair, he was there to witness it.
"Elena, what's wrong?" His voice was groggy, indicating that it had been sleep that had prevented him from hearing her earlier calls. She only slightly noticed that he was only wearing a loose pair of pajama bottoms, but at the moment it was the least of her concerns.
"Nothing," she quickly shot back, attempting to wipe away what seemed like a never-ending and unsightly flow of snot from her nose. "I'm fine! Seriously. I'm just tired! I don't need anything." She was rambling, desperate to just get him to walk away so she could be mortified in private.
But the problem with this type of meltdown was that it was nearly impossible to stop once it started. And it was even more difficult to cover it up or appear halfway normal. Elena was an absolute mess and the fact that he was towering over her, not moving an inch, made her even more distressed. She rapidly shook her head back and forth, trying to stand, but it was as if her muscles were rooting against her.
"I shouldn't be…" She trailed off, burrowing her head down into her curled up body. Maybe if she ignored him for long enough, he'd leave her alone. "I kept trying…"
She sensed Damon crouch next to her, still far away enough as to not spook her with his touch, but close enough to keep her unnerved. "Elena, I need you to talk to me." Now, she noted the concern. The genuine concern he'd always been so gracious as to provide. And that elicited another choking sob.
Her sentences were punctuated with congested breaths, cries, and sniffles. "Fuck, Damon, I shouldn't have done this! I just… I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be worth your time! I wanted… you told me to grow up and I was trying so fucking hard. But I can't and you have to keep taking care of me! I couldn't do the one fucking thing you asked of me! I couldn't be an adult! I can't…"
"Elena," Damon cut her off, his voice unintentionally soothing. "Hey, is that really what this is about?"
Elena just whimpered in response, more humiliation sweeping over her. She felt his hot stare on her and she hated it. They must have sat there like that for minutes as she hopelessly tried to stop her crying. "Damon, please just leave. Please."
But her pleas through gritted teeth fell on deaf ears. Suddenly, Damon's arms were wrangling her into his own, one going under her knees, the other behind her back. She fought it while still on the ground, but his strength clearly overpowered her and once she was in the air, she was simply dead weight. He carried her bridal style into the main part of the apartment. Her eyes were shut, but she sensed him pause in the middle as he realized her room was practically unlivable thanks to how much was packed away. When she felt him shift, heading in the direction of his own room, she burrowed deeper into his chest.
Doing so, however, was a mistake. Her nose firmly pressed into his skin, a gasping inhale brought in an unfamiliar scent. As Damon entered back into his room, Elena suddenly realized exactly what she smelled. Perfume… perfume that definitely didn't belong to her.
When Damon placed Elena onto the bed, she coiled up, maintaining the same fetal position from the hallway, screwing her eyes shut so that she didn't have to face him. She felt his weight settle into the bed directly next to her, and then the tug on her arms so that she was forced to curl against his bare chest.
The intimacy, the pure selflessness of his actions caused Elena's tears to flow stronger. Her sobs had thankfully ceased, but she was still left with the salty, hot tear tracks to silently flow down her cheeks. Crying for the first time in months was the most grating mixture of pleasure and pain. She felt so fucking pathetic having to be held… unable to do anything except emote. She'd always been a crier, even before she'd met Damon and she'd always counted it as one of her greatest weaknesses. She had memories of herself as a child, a teenager, holed up in her room so she could breakdown privately, always pulling herself together just in time for a service or dinner. Elena had kept it as a secret pride that she'd pushed it away for so long over the summer, but the added guilt accompanying this release was excruciating.
In the same vein, though, crying was a welcome liberation. She felt free to finally express herself instead of hiding behind a self-created charade. Although the pain was still present, she could feel the tension and the weight gradually fading from her body.
And she'd be a damned liar if she weren't just relieved to be held by Damon again. To allow her to be this close to him, regardless of how surely disappointed and frustrated he was with her, was a gift. She was weak and it seemed there was nothing she could do to change that. So she'd just let herself take what he was offering. Maybe it would weaken the sting of tomorrow's parting.
"I'm sorry, Elena."
Elena's head shot up immediately at his whispered words, ripped out of her private thoughts, and it probably would have been comical if she weren't such a mess. "No, no, Damon-"
He cut her off. "I'm sorry I cut you out. I'm sorry you had to hide yourself from me." Elena was still shaking her head so he stopped it, grabbing her by the chin and forcing her to look at him. She simply squeezed her eyes shut in response, causing him to sigh. They were so close that Elena felt his breath fan over her face. "Elena, being an adult doesn't mean you have to be made of stone. I never meant to ask that of you."
Elena swallowed, finally blinking her eyes open only to be met with the most sincere gaze she'd ever seen in her life. "No, Damon, you were right! Everything you said at the beach… all of it was true. I'm an emotional basket case and you shouldn't have to take care of me. You deserve a friend, an equal, but I can't be that for you! I'm too fucked up. I tried all summer to be the person you deserved and I couldn't even manage to not have a breakdown."
Damon pushed some hair back from her eyes. "You're saying you haven't cried since I left?" he murmured.
Elena nodded. "I tried," she mumbled. "I tried so fucking hard."
A sad smile broke across Damon's face. "Elena, I know you did. I can tell. You're different. You don't have to prove anything to me."
Elena felt more tears build up in her throat and she scrunched her face in response. Damon tightened his grip on her. "Elena, I never wanted you to stop being you."
Elena simply dug into him more, the comforting feel of his forgiveness washing over her. Her exhaustion combined with the sensation of his arms around her and she felt the serotonin flow through her nerves. Her breathing slowed, matching the pace of his.
In and out.
In and out.
Damon blinked his eyes open, recognizing the ache in his arm first and foremost. His gaze trailed down to where it was uncomfortably bent, wedged between himself and… Elena.
As his mind caught up to the present, the memories of last night replaying like a movie, he kept his focus on her. She was lying on her back, red-rimmed eyes burning into the ceiling. She was much farther away from him than she had been when she'd fallen asleep and he could tell her emotions were just as distant. She was shutting off again. She was becoming that shell that she'd been ever since she'd come back home.
Damon had finally connected all of the dots last night when Elena had fallen apart in his arms. She'd been so unrecognizable to him since she'd returned, so disconcertingly cryptic… and it was all because of what he'd near demanded of her. He'd never guessed she'd gone to such lengths to prove to him her capabilities, but it all finally made sense.
Finally allowed so close for the first time in months, Damon realized how much he'd missed her. He'd missed her enough that he was willing to accept whatever form of her true self she was willing to offer. She'd always been honest, her emotions as easily swayed as the changing of the wind, but they now seemed more refined. He wished he had a better explanation for why her meltdown hadn't frustrated him, but maybe he hadn't lied last night. Maybe she'd changed. Maybe she'd matured enough that her needing his comfort was acceptable rather than a hassle.
Or maybe he was just fucking crazy. Maybe she hadn't become as selfless as he thought. Maybe she really was still an overgrown child, the overly emotional basket case she'd self-described. Maybe she'd bought that apartment, baked him that damn cake, rid herself of her stubborn clinging to her pride, just because she'd felt like it rather than the fact that it was the right, mature thing to do. Maybe he was just too damn caught up in all that was Elena Gilbert that he'd be willing to see her in a different light, just as long as he got to stay in her orbit.
Maybe he was just as fucked up as her.
"Elena," he murmured, still feeling dazed and half-asleep.
She turned her head, her clear gaze on him urging him to continue on.
"Don't move today."
Elena blinked, her face staying relatively unaffected by his words for a few moments before her features became marred by a frown. She returned her head to its original position shaking it back and forth. "I can't, Damon. I need to go."
"I don't want you to go."
He watched her swallow and briefly wondered if she was going to cry again. He partially hoped she would, knowing that she'd be easier to win over if she wasn't as hard-edged as she was right now.
Elena turned again to face him, this time shifting her whole body so that she was lying on her side. "How can you possibly still want me here?"
Damon propped his head up on his elbow. "Because you've changed. Because I've changed… To be honest, I don't know. But something's changed here and I think our friendship can work again. I want our friendship to work again. But I don't want you to be here unless it's what you want." He reached out, grabbing her hand, only knowing that he wanted to. "Stay, Elena. Something here is good. That's all I know. It might be covered by some bad, but I'd rather work through it than just let you leave and always regret it."
Elena's gaze had fallen to where their hands were awkwardly interlocked. "Us living together… it would only aggravate the problem. If we wanted to… work through it, we still could without living under the same roof."
He wasn't sure exactly when she'd turned into the person with the more stable head in this, but he wasn't willing to give up his side. "You know we'd just use it as an excuse to fall further apart. You didn't answer my question."
Although he'd never explicitly stated something in question form, she seemed to know what he meant. "Damon, of course I want to be friends with you, live here with you. But… I'm worried we're too broken-"
"Stay and we'll find out. We can't know unless you agree to try. I'm saying I will. Now, just for now, I need you to go on your impulse."
Elena worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She took a few moments before responding, her gaze alternating between meeting his and watching his hand in her own. Finally, she replied. "Damon, I can't."
He sighed, feeling defeat flow through him. "Is there anything I can say to convince you that this is still right?"
Elena shook her head. "It's not that. I just…." She let out a long exhale. "Damon, I bought a cat."
Damon's lips parted slightly, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Had he heard her right? "You bought a cat," he repeated.
Elena nodded, some hair falling into her face as she flushed. "I, uh… wanted to prove I could take care of something besides myself so I adopted a cat a few weeks ago. I'm supposed to pick him up later today."
Damon stared at her, slack-jawed, before finally a chuckle bubbled out of his lips. "You were that dead-set on proving to me that you could be an adult?!"
Elena was trying her best to hold back her own smile, but she only held it together for a few moments before giggling herself. "I don't know! He was cute and overweight. If you'd looked into his damn big brown eyes, you wouldn't be laughing!"
Damon smirked after pulling himself back together, letting out a sigh as comforting relief rushed through his veins. "Well, then. I guess we now own a… cat."
Elena sighed, her gaze becoming more serious. "Damon, are you sure about this? This is huge… you know that, right?"
Damon nodded. "I'm sure, Elena... But then again, it all depends on what the cat's name is." By the ashamed look on her face, he immediately knew it was cringe-worthy.
She mumbled it, but he heard the name loud and clear. "Mr. Flufferbutter."
"Oh, hell no!"
"Damon, we can't change his name! He's had it for two years! He can't learn a new one!"
"Well, he better figure it out because there is no way in hell that ridiculous term is coming out of my mouth."
And although they were arguing for what might have been the thousandth time, neither could keep the smile off of their face.
I know you care