"I'm home," Stefan announced, closing the door behind him.
"Figured," I mumbled, keeping my eyes on the TV. Damon had put on some pathetic vampire film, and I was pretending to watch it. There was nothing better to do. The drugs had definitely worn off by now, but I was still fully aware of the emotional pain that had become so much more vivid since this morning. This was the first night that I hadn't seen Damon with a glass of Bourbon in his hand.
Stefan walked into the living room, shrugging off his coat. "Is everything okay in here?" he asked. "Have you recovered Damon's idiotic use of drugs?"
"Yeah," I sighed. "Good as new."
"Thank God," he smiled. "Elena and I were worried about you. Damon's plans have never been very well considered." Stefan glared briefly at his brother before turning his green eyes on me. "Are you sure that you're okay?"
"Yeah," I repeated, slightly annoyed that I needed to lie again. "Thank you. It was nothing that my body couldn't handle. It was just like being extremely drunk, and I know how that feels. Courtesy of your charming brother."
"I can't help it," Damon defended, tightening his grip on my waist until it became almost too painful to endure. I laughed nervously.
"Let go of me!" I protested, trying to slap his chest. But this was impossible. While one arm was keeping my body pressed against his, the other was being used to keep my hands from coming into contact with any part of his body, except for his hands or his arms.
"Make me," Damon teased, a smile in his voice.
"And how am I supposed to do that?" I squealed as he began to tickle me using the hand on my waist. He didn't stop for what seemed like hours.
When he finally let go of his overall hold on me. I was out of breath. Damon was still laughing slightly as I jumped up from the sofa and dramatically stormed up the stairs, passing Stefan with a loud huff. I headed into the spare bedroom and immediately retreated.
The state that Damon and I had left the spare bedroom in was disastrous. I think that a bomb explosion in the room would have caused less mess. The wardrobe was smashed into splinters and the lamp was shattered over the wooden floor boards. Feathers were sprinkled over the scenery. It was actually quite terrifying to look at.
"Yes," a silky voice whispered in my ear as a hot breath made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. "We did that."
"I did nothing," I replied, stepping forward. "You started it all. You gave me the drugs. You made me high. You could have killed me. You-"
"Correction," Damon butted in. "It couldn't have killed you. You're a vampire, for crying out loud! A stake through the heart or sunlight without your necklace are the only things that can kill you. Vervain could possibly kill you - I'm not too sure on that one. You have supernatural healing powers that eventually killed the drugs inside you. I mean, if I'd have given you less pills, then you would have been back to normal quicker. But it's less then twenty four hours ago, and you're already back to normal. I think."
"I wasn't having a go at you, Damon," I interrupted, shaking my head. "I was merely pointing out that you started all of this. I never meant for you to go off on a rant about how I couldn't die from an overdose. Please, save your bitter side for your little brother. I love you, Damon. I love you, and although I should love you unconditionally, I much prefer your sexy side." I winked at him, then batted my eyelashes. He smirked, pulling me into my arms and kissing me.
"Tsk tsk. Not now," I teased half-heartedly, leaning back in Damon's arms. "We need to clear up our mess."
"Can't I compel someone to do it?" Damon whined, trying to kiss me again. I refused, enjoying every second of this moment.
"No, you can't," I tutted. "If you want something done properly, it's best to do it yourself. You won't learn anything by forcing someone else to do it. There are things in life that you just need to do for yourself. Clearing up the mess that you made is one of them." I tapped him on the nose before walking down the stairs.
Stefan was in the kitchen, making coffee. He drinks more coffee than I've had hot dinners. Ah. Another British saying that reminds me so much of home.
Shut up about home, Lizzie, I told myself. You'll just get worked up again. It's no good for you, or your relationship. There's a time to be emotional, a time to be serious, a time to be composed, et cetera. And now is not one of those times.
"Do you have some kind of caffeine addiction?" I asked Stefan.
"No. It just eases my cravings," he shrugged. "It warms my blood."
I giggled without reason. "Why can't you just drink booze or something?"
"Because it's not the same," he snapped.
"Alright, alright," I said. "Don't get your knickers in a twist. What's up, Stef? You can tell me. I promise not to tell your irritating brother. He's starting to get on my nerves."
"I heard that," Damon called from upstairs.
"That's what I intended," I replied.
"Screw you," he grunted. I ignored him, focusing my attention on Stefan.
"What's up?" I questioned again.
"Don't worry about it," he said, trying to force a smile. It didn't work.
I let out a long breath. "Please, tell me. I want to help you. I honestly do." And then I realised that I was actually telling the truth.
I did want to help Stefan. He helped me in ways that maybe I can't even explain. He was nice to me when I was a bitch to him. He didn't have to be nice to me, but he was. And I was yearning to repay the favour.
"It's...Elena," he said with reluctant hesitation.
"What's up with her?" I frowned.
"It's not her, exactly. It's me. Well, it's both Elena and I - as a couple, I mean."
"What's happened, Stefan?" I was actually worried now.
"She wants time to contemplate her feelings for Damon," he choked, tears welling up in his eyes.
"Stefan..."I whispered, putting my hands on his shoulders. It was the moment that Stefan looked into my eyes that my bitter feelings for Elena made a comeback.
The plans for the rest of my evening suddenly flashed before my eyes.
It was time to pay dearest Elena a visit.