Revenge Isn't Always Sweet!

Good Time = Bad Times (Part 2)

Kayla's POV

For the second time today, I wake up feeling lousy. The aspirin I had taken earlier must have worn off. With a banging headache, I drag my feet as I walk to the kitchen, my head in my hands, in search of Stefan. I need him to get me some more aspirin.

I groan out loud when I see Damon instead of Stefan. He is standing at the island with a tea towel slung over his shoulder, chopping vegetables.
"Good, you're up. Sit." Damon says upon seeing me.
"Woof!" I reply, rolling my eyes and immediately regretting it as it makes my head hurt more.

I am awarded with a confused look off Damon.
"What the hell was that?" He asks me.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I thought we were doing some weird role play, where I was a dog and you were my master, giving me commands.
"Just shut up and sit down." He shakes his head at me. "Come to think of it, putting a leash on you might not be a bad idea?!"
"You know, you were so funny then, that I actually forgot to laugh!" I retort.

I take a seat at the table, resting my head in my arms.
"Still not feeling good, huh?" He asks, continuing to chop the vegetables.
"Nope." My answer comes out muted.
"That's what happens when you consume alcohol. It doesn't feel so good, does it?" God! I can hear him smirking as he speaks.

I don't reply, choosing to wallow in my self-inflicted misery.
"Where's Stefan?" The constant thudding is getting too much for me.
"He came home, then went out again. Why?" He finally stops chopping.
"When will he be back?" I lift my head to look at him.
"I don't know. Again, why?" He throws the tea towel down before walking towards me, stopping on the opposite side of the table, placing both his hands, palms down, and leans towards me.

His penetrating gaze is making me feel uneasy.
"I need an aspirin and I don't know where Stefan got them from when he gave me two earlier."
"Is that all?" He stands up straight, making me sit up so I can see him without having to strain my eyes looking up at him. "Why didn't you just ask me?"
"Honestly, you seem like you would rather me suffer than have the temporary relief of a painkiller."

There is an awkward silence between us before he finally breaks it.
"Is that really what you think of me?" I don't know why he is acting so shocked, he has done nothing but cause me pain since I arrived.
"Well, yeah." I wait for him to say something, when he doesn't, I continue. "Since I first met you, you have sp-punished me," I really don't want to say the word 'spanked'! "You've tried to rip my heart out, punished me some more, had Stefan punish me and now you're planning on punishing me again. Seriously, what do you expect me to think?"

An awkward silence once again falls over us.
"So... do you have an aspirin?"

He leaves the room and is back in less than a minute, holding two aspirins out for me to take.
"What drink would you like?" He offers as I take the pills. "Juice? Milk?"
"I'll have a coffee, please?"
"No you won't. Coffee is bad for kids." I stare at him in disbelief.
"Your kidding? It's just coffee Damon!" A hot cup of coffee would go down good right now.
"No, I'm not. There is too much caffeine in it and you bouncing off of the walls is something I can't be bothered with."
"Bouncing off of the walls? Damon, I'm fourteen - not four!"
"I. Don't. Care. Juice or milk?" He retrieves a glass before walking to the fringe, waiting by the door for my answer.
"Water." I give him the best pissed off look I can muster.

It takes about twenty minutes for the magic of the tablets to kick in, turning my pounding headache into a dull ache.
"What are you making?" I ask, referring to the big pot Damon is currently stirring with a large wooden spoon.
"Vegetable soup. Soup is always good when you're not feeling well." He tells me. This takes me by surprise. He is making home-made soup to make me feel better? That's kinda... sweet?
"You cook?" I say, sounding surprised.
"I'm 160 sum years old. Of course I can cook! Plus, my Italian roots demand it."
"You're of Italian descent? I didn't know that." Its crazy that I haven't got a clue where my roots are!
"What, the name Salvatore didn't clue you in?" He gives me a genuine smile.