𝔉𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲

The one where I almost died. (Again)

The next three days were a blur of work, lies and guilt. It was exhausting. My mind kept buzzing from all the excitement that had happened at the party. I went to school the day after for the sole reason of avoiding suspicion, so me and Stefan didn't go absent on the same day. The days I didn't attend school, I spent at the boarding house, so as to avoid the drama going on in the Gilbert household. The morning after the party, I had been shocked to find Vicky in the bathroom. I loved staying at the boarding house, the upside was they had a ginormous library, with no shortage of books. The downside was, in terms of food: there was none.

Since the only inhabitants of the house, were non-living creatures, and uncle Zach, who's diet consisted of McDonald's and coffee, no one ever bothered to store food in the refrigerator. Or clean it for that matter. On my first morning there, I got hungry, and when I opened the fridge, my nostrils were met with the exquisite smell of a dead rats asshole. And mold. Lots of mold. After promptly shutting it and projectile vomiting into the nearest trash can, I weakly asked Stefan if he had anything else too eat, at which he directed me to the only digestible thing they had; the wine cellar.

Stefan informed me that he had in fact, compelled Caroline into forgetting the pain Damon had brought her way and replacing it with hatred. I would've had him make her forget about Damon in general, only the entire town had seen them together. To make up for drugging her, even if she didn't know it, I reorganized the girls night I promised her a week ago.

The days I spent at the boarding house weren't ones filled with blissful relief either. How could they, when you could hear Damon's tortured groans from beneath my feet. No, the only free time at I had at their house, was spent with Stefan, planning how to dispose of Damon and how we were going to schedule watch guarding him. We had agreed on a compromise between me, his uncle, and him. He had also taken time to explain more thoroughly about vampires and his whole backstory with Katherine. Upon learning that his own father had killed his two sons, I decided too reconsider my relationship with my father and cut him some slack. Ha, that was that part was sarcasm, nothing can change my views on my scumbag of a sperm donor.

The first week was my turn babysitting Damon. My job didn't prove to be hard, seeing as he was still knocked out. I suspected that when he wakes up, he'll decide to be more difficult. Stefan explained about decication, how a vampire grows weak without blood. Damon, being a powerful vampire, we weren't sure how long it would take until his circulation stops.

It has my hour for watch duty, and it was the usual boring, hearing Damon mutter incoherent words, occasionally sneaking in and injecting him with more vervain. In the middle of reading a very interesting book I picked out five minutes ago, I heard a pained groan louder than usual. I stood up and peeked through the bars. Damon was stirring.

He tried to lift his head up, but didn't have enough strength. He fingered his hand, where, in the place of a big ring, he found nothing but his own skin. "Where's my ring?" He asked through pained mumbles. "I'll let Stefan talk." I beckoned Stefan, silently signaling his brother's awakening. I retook my spot, my back leaning on the prison door and resumed flipping the pages of my book, while Stefan explained his intentions.

When Stefan left Damon finally spoke again. "Don't suppose you could bring me blanket or anything? This place is hell." He complained. "Looking after you isn't a ray of sunshine either, Cinderella." I retorted. I heard a dry chuckle, which immediately turned into a cough.

"I'm dying." He said in between coughs. "Good you realize that." I said cooly. "Since I'm dying, can you at-least tell me something about you?" He prodded. "Ask Stefan to tell you a bedtime story, not me." I said coldly. "Please, just anything in general, anything about you." He pleaded. "Why do you want to know? You don't strike me as the nosy type, more like the person who doesn't give a single living fuck about anything that goes on around them, as long as it doesn't involve you." I said. "You've got me all figured out Crist." He joked. "Well, you're not that deep Salvatore." I retorted.