❝a lesson in truth❞
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"YOU KNOW, CORY HAS BEEN THREATENING ME FOR TEN MINUTES BECAUSE YOU WANDERED OFF." Damon stepped next to Charlotte, regarding her with a bit of irritance simply because her friend had been harassing him over her whereabouts. "You should really get him on a leash,"
She hums, but doesn't look up from the display before her. "I've tried that, believe it or not. He ended up using a butter knife to cut through it."
Damon's eyes widened and he shook his head, wondering how a kid like that had befriended a girl like Charlotte. His blue eyes danced around the room, uninterested in almost everything being put on display to serve the egos of every Council member and founding family in attendance. He dropped his gaze downwards, looking at what had rendered Charlotte silent once more, and when he read the small title card, he suddenly understood her disappearance from the celebration.
"So," He cleared his throat, rocking back on his heels. "Your parents were members of the Council?"
Charlotte finally looked up at him, and he dutifully ignored the glassy sheen to her umber eyes. "Yeah, they, uh, were. Gilberts are a founding family, so we always had to come to stuff like this. Tyler and I usually would just go upstairs to his room or something, but,"
"You crushed his fragile little heart?"
Her lips quirked softly, and she nodded, amusement finally breaking through her sad haze. "You know me, resident heartbreaker at your service."
"I knew that nice thing was just an act," He shook his head, feigning disappointment as Charlotte started to move from her parents' display. "You think you know someone."
"Oh, yeah, because I'm the one deceiving people with my niceness," She raised an incredulous brow at him, though her tone was obviously playful. "What about you, with your whole,"
She waved her hand at his frame, earning a mocking look from Damon.
"My dashing good looks? I know I'm pretty cool about it, but I can't exactly hide them that well."
Charlotte stopped for a second, turning around to fully face him with an incredulous, yet amused look on her face. "Did it take you all 170 years to learn modesty, or is that a new practice you're trying to implement?"
Damon narrowed his eyes at her, failing to come up with a decent retort as her smile suddenly turned smug, leading her to turn back around, clearly satisfied with her success at insulting him.
They lapsed into silence for a moment that was nothing less than peaceful, and Damon rolled his shoulders back, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the fact that he was so comfortable around her.
"Wow," Charlotte's voice breaks him from his growing discomfort and he looks at her, raising a brow at the obvious mocking tone to her voice. Silently, she points a painted finger at a framed script hanging on the wall, and her smugness grows by tenfold. "This really dates you, you know."
Damon observes the document, his eyes narrowing as her joke finally registers once he sees his and Stefan's name on the original town charter. "Have you ever thought about doing comedy after school? It seems like a good path for you,"
She snorts, amused at his ire as she adjusts the tied strap on her shoulder. "I was thinking about pursuing the medical field or something, but if you really believe in my comedic abilities, I guess I should just go for it, huh?"
"Yeah, yeah," Damon rolls his eyes, throwing his arm around her shoulders as he steers them out of the room and back into the gathered crowd. The sun had long since set, so all of the lights that were scattered along the property were lit up. His eyes scanned over the crowd until he finally located his brother, and he immediately started to lead Charlotte in their direction.
"Oh, look, the happy couple."
"What? Oh, Damon, no, don't–"
"Brother!"
"Interrupt them," Charlotte finishes her sentence with a sigh, giving Damon a scolding look as they came to a stop beside Elena and Stefan. She shared a small, apologetic smile with her twin, not missing the way the brothers still eyed them like they were an anomaly. "Hey, Lena,"
Elena looks knowingly at Charlotte and leans into her sister slightly, nudging her in the ribs. "Hey, Charlie." She looks her technically older sister up and down and pulls lightly on the bow-tied strap on her shoulder. "I'm glad you went with the orange dress, that green one washed you out, I think,"
Charlotte sighed in agreement, looking down at her dress. "Yeah, I like this one," She shrugs, somewhat uncomfortable. "Just a little exposed, I guess."
Her hands brush nervously over her forearms and Damon's brows furrow as she folds her arms into her chest in a shielding manner.
"Oh, my god, there you are!" Caroline's voice rang through the group, and though Charlotte was thankful for the distraction, she wasn't sure if she was really prepared for Caroline's inevitable faux pas. "Cory doesn't want to dance with me anymore, he said I was ruining his chances of finding a man, but every guy here is like over thirty."
Charlotte sighed, eyes rolling to the ceiling exasperatedly. "I can't leave him for five minutes, I swear to god,"
"So, Elena, can I just borrow your date?" Caroline smiled, her eyes flicking to Stefan with a knowing mischief. The blonde tucked a curl behind her ear and looked up at Damon, who was watching her with a raised brow. "Or yours, Charlotte. You guys can't hog them all night, you know,"
Charlotte looks at Damon, who grimaces, and she smiles softly. "I mean, if you want to, go for it."
Damon shoots his gaze to her, surprised that she'd sell him out, and he vehemently shakes his head. "No, I don't dance unfortunately. But, uh, Stefan does. You should see it, it's really something,"
Caroline's bright eyes light up with dangerous satisfaction, and she dutifully ignores Stefan's refusals with a determination that Charlotte almost envies. Let it be said that Caroline Forbes never lets anything stop her from getting what she wants, even if it hurts her best friend.
Watching his brother be dragged off with a smug glee, Damon turns his attention to Elena. "So, are you enjoying yourself tonight, Elena?"
The girl shrugs, nodding somewhat shyly under the unwavering attention of the man. "Yeah, it's been fun. I'm not into history like Charlie is, but I think it's cool that our town is full of it."
"Yeah, you know, the Salvatore name was practically royalty in this town until the war, there was a battle here–"
"The Battle of Willow Creek." Charlotte cuts him off, earning a slightly surprised look from the vampire. "We read about it in school. Confederate soldiers fired on a church with civilians inside."
Damon slowly nods, a slight smirk on his face. "What the history books left out was the people that were killed, they weren't there by accident."
Though Charlotte could tell he was baiting Elena for some sort of reaction, she couldn't help but entertain his dramatics, her curiosity for knowledge winning out on her defensiveness. "What do you mean?"
Damon gestured to a small, wooden model of the old church from the battle, and the twins followed him, listening intently for entirely different reasons. "So, some of the founders on the Confederacy side back then wanted them rounded up and burned alive. Stefan and Damon had someone they loved very much in that church."
Damon's tone had softened considerably, and Charlotte looked at him worriedly. She knew that he was only talking in past tense for Elena's sake, and even though Charlotte wanted her sister to be kept out of the chaos of vampires and whatever else there might be, she also wanted to comfort Damon.
She wouldn't even begin to know where to start comforting him though, it wasn't like she could just undo the past. If she could, she wouldn't be in the position she was in right now, that was for sure.
"And when they went to rescue them," Damon continued on, oblivious to Charlotte's internal struggle between battling her empathy and keeping his secret from Elena. "They were shot. Murdered in cold blood."
Elena shook her head, her brows furrowed confusedly. "Who was in the church that they wanted to save?"
"A woman, I guess," Damon smiles wryly, shrugging like he doesn't really know the answer. His blue eyes drift to Charlotte, and a twitch in his brow makes her straighten her shoulders. "Doesn't it always come down to the love of a woman?"
Charlotte's brown eyes soften in pity, and her gaze roams his face, a rare, open softness to it that she revels in. Damon is a vampire who has lived for 170 years, he's had plenty of time to make enemies and build up his walls– she understands that.
Everyone's got walls, everyone's got baggage. Damon's got 170 years of it. But Charlotte can't help but have a soft spot for the downtrodden people of the world. She likes the ones with baggage, the ones that have their walls up to cover what's really behind them– regret, and guilt, and sadness. Charlotte recognizes it in Damon as easily as she does in herself.
Their silence has settled, though it's anything but awkward to them, Elena clears her throat and steps around Charlotte, her arm brushing against Charlotte's bare one. "Look, Damon, about the other night," She shakes her head, her straight locks falling down her exposed back. "I'm sorry that you and Stefan have this thing between you, but I can't get in the middle of it. I just hope that you two can work it out."
Damon smiles, looking at Elena from beneath his lashes, and Charlotte narrows her eyes as she sees the softness leave him at the sight of her sister's pity. "I hope so, too,"
Elena nods silently in farewell, and nudges Charlie once for good measure before disappearing into the crowd, leaving them alone once more.
Charlotte tilts her head back, looking closely into Damon's eyes. "You're good at that, you know."
Damon hums, raising a brow. "What would that be?"
"Lying." She deadpans, earning a hollow chuckle from him. "Manipulating Elena for pity. I guess you've had a lot of time to work on the tragic backstory that's close enough to the truth that people don't question it, but also distanced enough so they don't realize it happened in 1864."
"But you don't fall for it, right? Because you're the smart one." Damon stuffs his hands in his pockets, narrowing his eyes at her. "You think with your brain, not your heart like Elena does. Hell, if she was even a little like you, she'd already have figured out what Stefan and I are. And you wish she was just a little bit smarter sometimes, because then you wouldn't have to look out for her like you do. Maybe, just maybe, you could actually worry about yourself for once instead of always taking care of Elena."
Charlotte clenched her teeth, grinding them together slightly as her anger rose with his purposefully antagonistic words. She knew her defensive posturing was only happening because he was right. To a certain degree, he was right, and they both knew it. And that pissed her off more than what he'd actually said.
"Am I right, Charlotte?"
She stiffens her jaw, and blinks up at him, her fists clenched at her sides. "No, Damon. You're wrong."
"Oh, do tell,"
"I don't fall for your shit because it's all a lie. You're not as vindictive or hateful as you try to be, as you probably want to be. I'm sure you really do want to be mad at Stefan, or mad at Katherine, or even mad at Elena for giving Stefan what you can't have anymore because Katherine's gone. But in reality, you're not mad at all. You're sad, and you're lonely, and you hide it all under this ruse of the smug douchebag who doesn't care about anyone but himself, but I can see past it, Damon."
Charlotte scoffed, looking at him incredulously. "Somewhere in the past 170 years, you woke up and realized that you were completely and utterly alone, and the only other person who could live as long as you wanted nothing to do with you. And now you pick fights with him because you figure that fighting with him is better than not talking to him at all, right? Well, you can't fool me, Damon, because I know better. All of the manipulation, the lies, the petty arguments, it's all just a big game to you. But one day, you're gonna wake up again, and you're going to find that you're still sad, and you're still lonely. All because you couldn't just get your head out of your own ass for five minutes, and realize no one here wants anything to do with you."
Her chest heaves with her final words and she drops her hands down to her sides from where she'd been exasperatedly enunciating her words to him. She watches in quick succession as the shock that had registered on his face throughout her small rant is turned into his familiar, comforting anger, but she doesn't allow him to get another word in.
"Whatever it is you're planning to do, leave Elena out of it. She's done nothing but make Stefan happy, and I'm blindly hoping you'll save your bitter acts of revenge for another time. And if you don't feel like you can do that, then I think it's best that you just leave."
She steps past him and leaves the room before he can say anything in response to her, and when she finally breaks into the crowd again, her eyes are wide with panic and her heart rate is rapidly rising.
A hand latches onto her wrist and she jerks back, yelping in surprise.
"Charlie, come on, I'm getting you out of here." Cory grabs her again, and her panic calms ever so slightly in his presence as he pulls her through the crowd worriedly.
He pulls her towards the large doors that she and Damon had entered through hours ago, and her eyes scan the crowds one last time, only to find the same vampire she had just torn into moments ago talking to Caroline with a smirk so wide she knew he was up to no good.
Before she could say something to Cory to get him to let her go, though, Damon lifted his gaze above the gathered crowd right to her own, and gave her a damning wink.
She couldn't help but feel like she'd just made things much, much worse.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
author's note; couples who psychoanalyze each other... stay together (?) anyways, short little detour into enemies territory methinks... ;)
published; 11.22.21.
- liz