Heiress | TVD/TO

V. Bad Timing

V. Bad Timing.

(A/N: this is the face I am thinking of, when I write down, Damon winces. I don't know if it's considered so, but it's the face I make when I'm wincing).

16th January, 2010.
(A/N: the timeline is really hard to deduce, considering the time jumps they did in the series, according to TVD fandom site it's this date).

Being supernatural for so long meant Eira was knowledgeable of everything related to the subject, major part of them being witches and their magic, more importantly how nature is linked to all of it.

It made her a big believer of natural warning systems, like the storm going on outside, and had it been any other day of the year, Eira would've deemed it the start of a beautiful day, considering her love for storms. But given that it's the 16th of January, it couldn't have been anything but an indicative to the bad day it's leading. Which is why she felt it appropriate to start it with day drinking.

"Morning, sunshine." Damon walked through the room, after bursting the door open, expecting the girl to be in bed, wrapped in her covers, the drapes open wide, and a book in hand, the normal course in which she used to spend a stormy day.

Today, seemed to be the total opposite, Eira was awake, but not in bed, she was sat on her desk, wearing another outfit borrowed from his brother's girl, and hadn't he known that it was storming, he would've never guessed it by how tight the drapes were drawn together covering the window, casting the room in a dark blanket, and the woman in question was nursing a crystal tumbler, filled with Gin, as indicated by the half-filled bottle in front of her.

"Oh, it's musty in here," he waved his hands around considering the heat wave from the humid room fogged up the room, seeing as the fireplace was lit. "You should really open the windows every once in a while." It was the lack of sarcastic response that alerted Damon, to Eira silent state.

"You're day drinking, I agreed to be your friend not your idol." Damon joked trying to elicit any reaction out of the almost catatonic female, other than her sipping her cup, and refilling it when it's empty.

"Okay, now you're just drinking us out of alcohol, and you don't even like Gin, what's up?" Damon resorted to moving in front of her, to gauge her reaction.

"It's storming," Eira murmured, not raising her face, only her eyes, to acknowledge him, as if it's a reason to be in a sombre mood, and had it been anyone who didn't know her, they would believe it, but not Damon.

"And you love storms," Damon ridiculed not believing her, not wanting to deal with him, Eira plasters on a fake smile, and slaps her hands on the desk surface, "You're absolutely right. I do love storms." Standing to her full height, Eira snatches the leather jacket, she took from his closet.

"Where you going?" he asks, as he follows her movement with his eyes. Taking hold of the glass, after donning the jacket on, she downs what's left, and pushes the glass to his chest.

"On a walk." She deadpans, then walks out before Damon could make another sound, and when the man follows to question her behaviour, he finds no one in the hall, meaning that she vamped out of the house. Turning back to enter the room, Damon glances around hoping to find anything that'll explain Eira's foul mood, until his eyes fall onto the calendar on the desk, as it's turned to the day's date, making realisation fall onto him, with slumped shoulders, he mutters, "Oh."

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Stefan kept to his promise to Elena and when she arrived at the boarding house, he told her everything about the tomb vampires, and how they had attacked them the night before.