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Catherine

"Look, if you don't want me to tag along..." I stood in front of him. He was quiet on the way back. If there was one good thing that happened while he seemed to be zoning out, it's that he didn't get us killed and drove like how a law abiding citizen should drive.

When we did arrive at the apartment, he told me to go freshen up and put on something comfortable. That was it. No 'bonbon' or teasing comment on how I attempted to wear heels and suffer the blisters afterwards.

He was staring at my rubber shoes now. What. He said wear something comfortable. So I had on my 'It Wasn't Me' printed shirt and skinny jeans. He lifted his head to meet my eyes and gave me a smile that didn't reach quiet his. You know what friends do when one of them is pissed off and you just want to look at their faces to see if they're alright? I did just that, causing him to lean back in surprise as I slumped down the floor to stare at him. I'm going to pretend that we didn't sleep together last night and probably cuddled because it was cold...for now.

"Was driving Bradley last night so bad that you wanted my poor baby melted?" he leaned towards me so I wiggled back. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. Something was bothering him. And it's bothering me that what's bothering him is bothering me.

"Are you aware that Bradley honks? Like those vintage cars back in the old west?"

I grinned. Of course I knew. But I liked it. It was unique. He reminded me of Herby. In fact, he was like Herby. He was in the process of being crushed when I glanced at the window of Rose's car. Aside from the broken breaks, he was fine. I nodded my head as a yes and placed a hand on his knee. You should be aware by now that aside from my parents, Rose and Ellie, I have no more friends. I mean where exactly do you touch someone when you're comforting them? The head? That would look silly. The cheek? Nope. Too...intimate. The shoulder? Just imagining it made me laugh. Give me a mustache and we'll have the father and son talk. Besides, patting his shoulder would mean getting on my knees. He's still taller than I am and with me on that position, our faces would probably be on the same level.

"You're acting serious. Get out of Damon's body demon!" I placed my hands up in the air and bowed my head, like I was praying over him. I heard him laugh and felt him hold my hands. I looked up just in time to see him placing them on his cheeks.

"That's cute, bonbon but I don't think you should be praying for me." he was circling his thumb on my palm, gazing at my probably flushed face.

"Why not?" It was barely audible. I can't seem to find my voice because of what he's doing to my hands.

"I don't deserve it. Are you ready? Do your feet still hurt? You don't have to come if you don't want to." I knew he asked rapid questions just to change the topic.

"I want to come." I smiled at him but the moment I did, his face turned dead serious. Then something happened as his hands gripped mine tighter. I felt like I was being pulled out of my body. Like somebody held my neck and just decided to throw me around. I closed my eyes for just one second, but when I opened them, I saw myself.

No really.

I. Saw. Myself.

I was still sitting on the floor, with my hands caged by Damon's. I opened my mouth but no words came out. I couldn't speak. I turned to look at Damon. Only this wasn't him. His eyes...were different. They were lighter, the shade of grey that almost looked like blue and he was staring right at me.

I closed my eyes. This isn't happening.

"Bonbon?"

When I opened them, I saw Damon's face a couple of inches away from mine. His eyes were dark again and worry was etched on his face.

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