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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ༆ 𝗦𝗮𝗹𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗕𝗼𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗛𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲 ༆
I sat cross-legged at the kitchen table, nursing my morning coffee like it was the only thing holding me together. I was still in one of Damon's old flannels, my hair a mess, eyes barely open. The silence of the boarding house was peaceful... until I opened my mouth.
"Yesterday, I Googled what chickens look like without feathers," I said casually, taking a sip.
From the living room, Damon looked up from where he was pouring himself bourbon — yes, bourbon for breakfast. Classic. "And... why would you do that?"
"I don't know," I shrugged. "Probably because I couldn't sleep. Or because I make questionable life choices. Or both."
"Couldn't sleep without your sister, huh?" he teased with a smirk, leaning against the doorway like he owned the house. (Which, fair. He kind of did.)
"Don't be a dick, Damon," I said, but there was no heat in it. He knew I was mopey. I knew I was mopey. The coffee knew it too.
Before he could fire back with some sarcastic Damon-ism, his phone started ringing. He glanced at the caller ID, and his expression turned unreadable.
"You're interrupting my drink," he answered dryly. "Katherine. Where are you?"
My eyes widened like a cat seeing a cucumber. "Wait—Katherine? Give me that!" I lunged over and snatched the phone from his hand before he could even blink.
"Katherine?" I said, practically hissing her name into the phone.
"Well, if it isn't little Eliana," she purred through the speaker, voice like venomous silk. "No time, no see."
"I'm the one who should be saying that. You disappeared like a cockroach when the lights came on," I shot back, voice cold.
Before I could continue throwing well-deserved shade, Damon grabbed the phone back like I was a toddler who stole a toy.
"Where are you, Katherine?" he asked again, clearly over it.
"Lurking outside your window, pining away," she answered sweetly. I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw last week.
"What do you want?"
"I'm homesick," she said, smug as ever. "What have I missed?"
