You Call That a Solution?

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~ Mallorie ~

After Damon had snapped at her, Mallorie grabbed her stuff from the parlor and exited the house. The night air was cool and damp, still, Mallorie marched toward the Gilbert's. She couldn't handle being around someone right now; the day had been too stressful.

Mallorie got almost back home before turning back. If anyone had asked, Mallorie wouldn't have had an answer for why she did. Damon had been very clear that she was to leave and not return. Mallorie had intended to do so, but something called her back.

Damon's car was gone from the driveway when Mallorie approached. Still, she opened the door and walked inside. The house was silent. Damon must have gone to dispose of Rose's body. Knowing full well that he'd be upset when he came home, Mallorie poured him a glass of bourbon before taking a seat on the couch.

Within a few minutes, the front door opened. Damon charged in, shoving the door closed behind him. Mallorie swallowed hard as Damon's eyes landed on her. He rubbed his chin.

"You were supposed to leave." Anger shook his voice slightly.

"I did." Mallorie sighed as she stood and handed him the glass. "Then I came back to make sure you're okay."

"I appreciate the gesture." Damon paused searching for words. "I'm just glad it's over." Damon took a swig.

"You know I don't believe that." Mallorie crossed her arms.

"Go home, Mallorie." Damon set the glass down and gestured toward the door. "Get some rest. It's a whole new day tomorrow."

Mallorie arched a brow. "Damon, I'm your friend."

"I'm well aware of that." Even the short answer showed his frustration.

"And as such, I know when you're hurting." Mallorie stepped closer.

"What do you want to hear? That I cared about Rose? That I'm upset?" Damon's voice grew louder. "Well I didn't and I'm not."

"There you go again." Mallorie threw her arms up. "Pretending to turn it off. Pretending not to feel." Mallorie closed the space between them and grasped his arms. "Damon, you're so close. Don't give up."

Damon wrenched out of her grip. "I feel, Mallorie, okay? And it sucks!"

"You don't just get to quit when you feel things you don't want to. Everyone feels pain, Damon. You get through it." Mallorie felt herself getting angered.

"You know what sucks even more? It was supposed to be me. Jules was coming after me." Damon's voice quivered and broke at the end.

Mallorie's brows furrowed. "You feel guilty?"

"That would be human of me, wouldn't it, Mallorie? And I'm not human." Damon walked close as the mask slipped back into place. "You're one to talk about giving up. That's all you've done is give up!" He pointed to the door again. "Go home. There's been enough doom, gloom, and personal growth for one day."

"No." Mallorie moved toward him so only a few inches separated them. "I'm not leaving you."

Tears formed in Mallorie's eyes as she rose to her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around him. Damon froze for a moment, then his shoulders relaxed. He embraced her, too. She felt his walls crumble as soft sobs came from him.

Mallorie rubbed his back. Damon's head came to her shoulder. Burning filled Mallorie's nose as she continued to comfort him. They stayed like that for several minutes, but it felt like hours. Finally, Damon pulled back.

"I thought you'd be mad." He used the heel of his hand to wipe his cheeks. "After what I did--"

"Stop." Mallorie held up a hand. "You're an adult. You can make your own decisions."

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