Chapter 35:
The music fades into the background as Damon and I continue to sway on the dance floor. Despite my earlier protests, I find myself strangely at ease in his arms. It's as if the world outside of our little bubble doesn't matter anymore.
"I hate dancing," I whisper into Damon's ear. I can do that now, thanks to the six-inch heels, and the fact that he's holding me so close to his body that I'm surprised we haven't melted together.
"Well, Just-a-Girl, you're not exactly the best dancer in the world." His words are crass, but there's a spark in his voice that tells me he's enjoying this.
I don't have anything to say, so I just smile and bury my head into his neck.
"People are staring," Damon whispers into my ear.
I knew this. I could feel their gazes burning into my back full force. Especially Stefan's. His was the worst.
"I hate him too," Damon adds, his voice low.
"How can you hate your own brother? Aren't siblings supposed to love each other?"
"It's a long story," Damon mutters.
"And I'm guessing old."
"Very old."
"And you won't tell me about it?"
"I'll tell you about it when you tell me about your scar."
I shut up. Because I might like Damon a lot, but it's not enough to tell him about Edward. At least—not yet. And that little fact scares the shit out of me.
We're quiet for a while. Damon moves me around the dance floor as I follow his lead the best I can. My head still rests in the curve of his neck, and he still holds me close.
"It's about Katherine," Damon finally breaks the silence.
"What?"
"Why I hate him so much. It's about Katherine."
There's another pause.
"Edward," I finally say. Damon doesn't say a word, but I know he wants to know more. "I got the scar because of Edward."
"And I'm guessing Edward isn't human."
"No. No, he isn't."
To my surprise, Damon doesn't push the issue. He just continues to twirl us around the floor and hold me close. In return, I don't push the issue about Katherine and Stefan. It's something that I like about me and Damon's relationship. We press on each other just the right amount. Enough that we aren't just emotionless cinderblocks staring at each other, but not hard enough that we aren't flying away from each other the first chance we get.
Like I said, just the right amount.
"He's an asshole," Damon whispers, "Complete dick." It's the same thing he said to me before, but this time I know exactly what to say back.
"She's a bitch. Complete whore. You deserve so much better."
Damon looks at me and smiles.
"So do you."
As the song comes to an end, Damon dips me low, his eyes locked on mine. And in that moment, as we hold each other close on the dance floor, I realize that maybe—just maybe—there's something more between us than I ever imagined. And for the first time in a long time, I allow myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, I deserve to be happy.
As the song ends, Damon leads me off the dance floor, his hand firmly in mine. People still stare at us, but I don't seem to mind as long as he stays near. He's my life raft right now, and I'm stranded in an ocean of judgment and prying eyes.
Elena and Stefan, who had been whispering in the corner the entire song, make their way over to us. I sigh in annoyance and Damon rolls his eyes in exasperation. Neither one of us wants to deal with them right now. We were in our happy little bubble and now they're bursting it.
"We need to talk," Stefan growls lowly.
"We always need to talk, brother," Damon says, picking up two champagne glasses as a waiter walks by. He downs the first before quickly downing the second. Hey, if I had a vampire metabolism, I'd be downing them too. Elena, however, looks disgusted by his behavior.
"Bitch."
"John Gilbert arrived earlier and he and I had a nice long chat," Stefan continues.
"And I'm sure it was just lovely," Damon says with a smile.
"He knows everything, Damon," Elena whispers in dismay, "about vampires, about Stefan and you…everything."
"And this concerns us how?" Damon takes two more champagne flutes. This time he sips on one and gives the second to me. I raise an eyebrow in question. He shrugs. I say fuck it and take a nice long sip of the alcohol. It's not too bad.
"He isn't exactly pro vampires, Damon," Stefan seems angry. But with the champagne burning down my throat, I could care less.
"So there's another person that wants to kill us," Damon rolls his eyes, "Why don't we pass trying to turn them to our side and just kill him."
I choke on the champagne in my throat. One cough, two cough—okay, I'm good.
"What!" Elena says in shock, "He's my uncle!"
"Who you don't like," Damon points out.
"Well, yeah, but…"
"No buts, darling Elena," Damon's on a roll now. He's got that look in his eyes that say no one can stop him. "We're doing this my way for once. The problem will be solved by the end of the night. Now, if you excuse me, I want to dance with Bella."
So he drags me away. Honestly, he could do anything to me right now and I don't think I'd be able to stop him. I'm too shocked at Damon's bluntness about John Gilbert. Somewhere inside me, I know it isn't right. I should care about Damon's obvious violent streak.
It's not safe.
For me or anyone else in this town.
