Chapter 38:
We're dancing again.
Weird thing to do after you just watched someone die.
Yet here I am, in Damon's arms, as he twirls me around the dance floor without a care in the world. Scratch that. Damon's definitely caring.
Ever since John had threatened me, Damon can't seem to let me go. Even as we walked back to the party I had been so close to him that I could barely walk. But that was ok, because Damon seemed to be dragging me anyways.
We haven't talked.
Not one single word.
He just holds me. And at the moment, I was quite content to be held.
We were at peace. And we were ok.
Until they arrived.
They were Elena and Stefan.
And they looked frantic.
"Where did you two go?" Stefan questioned. Damon and I ignored him, continuing our dancing instead. They stood their ground.
"Damon wanted to show me something," I sighed. Damon wasn't talking. His mouth was too busy brushing small kisses against my neck. Neither Stefan or Elena didn't seem to notice.
"What did he need to show you?" Elena asked. God, what was this? The Spanish Inquisition?
"My dick," Damon said. I laughed. Loudly.
"Don't be crass Damon," Stefan said in disgust.
"Don't be a prude Stefan," Damon retaliated.
"Seriously though," Elena said, "Where did you go?"
"I think Damon told you already Elena," I hissed at her. I was in no mode to talk to either of them. I had been almost killed yesterday, discovered that I was surrounded by vampires—again—threatened to be killed, and then watched as the person that threatened me was killed. Yeah, wasn't in the best of moods, "He wanted to show me his dick, and you know what it was great."
Elena's face is priceless. It's the I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that face, and it makes me want to burst out laughing. Hell, Damon is.
"Just-a-Girl, you're amazing."
I feel like I should bow, but instead I just give him a wink before wrapping myself back into him.
"Damon," Stefan complains again.
"Don't be such a whinny bitch Stefan," Damon sighs, "All I did was take care of our problem with Elena's uncle."
"You didn't." Elena gasps.
"Sure did. Uncle Johnny is no more."
"I…I…"
"Spit it out Elena." I snap at her.
"You can't just go around killing people!" Elena yells at Damon. "And you," this time she's looking at me, "How can you condone such a thing."
Ok bitch that's enough.
The claws were about to come out, and Elena knew it.
That's why I'm surprised how scared she looks when I stop dancing with Damon, push him away, and march up until I'm inches away from her. Eye's narrowed, jaw clenched, and hands clutched into fists.
"You know what Elena, I've had it up to here with your incessant, dim-witted, let's be friends attitude. You know nothing about me Elena Gilbert, so don't you stand there and judge me you stupid little—"
"It seems that I'm interrupting something again," a voice says from my side. I know that voice. It's the voice that just fell two stories off a balcony. A voice that should be dead.
Jonathan Gilbert's voice.
But that's impossible. Right?