Kismet | Damon Salvatore

Chapter 9

It seemed his search went poorly.

Not only had Tyler not been found, but apparently, Damon was responsible for killing someone Enzo cared about back in the sixties, which meant they were no longer best friends.

"Was Enzo here by any chance?" asked Damon, inviting himself into her apartment that night.

"No," she said. "Why? Did you think he'd come looking for me?"

"Nevermind," Damon answered. "I just don't know where he is and his humanity is off. I need a drinking buddy meeting."

She gestured toward her couch. "Make yourself comfortable. Is this like a talking and drinking kind of meeting or just drinking? Either is fine with me but if it is the latter, can we at least put something on the TV so it's not super quiet?"

He sat down while she went to retrieve some alcohol and two glasses. "Do you really need to plan out every damn step of your life? How do you not go crazy?"

She shrugged. "Meredith insists I am crazy for being such a fan of planning ahead. I just like mentally preparing myself for things."

"Let me guess. Your biggest fear is surprise parties."

"Not my biggest fear but I hate them. If I need to attend any large event, I need a day or two to prepare myself. I just get really anxious. I'm not the most social person. Meredith and my mom were always more into the big charity events. I took after my dad. In general, interacting with people stresses me out. I don't know if you've noticed, but I struggle to make eye contact. Even if you think I'm looking you in the eyes, chances are I'm looking at your forehead."

"No wonder you look like you're about to blow a fuse every time I show up. I'm triggering every one of your pet peeves. And here I thought you were just afraid of me."

She snorted, setting down the glasses followed by a bottle of whiskey. "I figured out a while ago that you won't hurt me. You need me, and even someone who likes to kill will respect that."

His expression became more serious. "I almost hurt you when I was infected."

"I don't hold it against you," she said honestly.

"You wouldn't have been able to do anything if I'd attacked you."

"Well, yeah, not even Enzo could stop you."

"No, I mean, you don't have a single clue how to defend yourself. You can't throw a good punch, you don't seem strong enough to land a good kick on someone. You wouldn't even be able to save yourself from your sister if she tried to fight you."

"Actually, I could beat Meredith in a fight when we were little."

"And what about now? What are you gonna do if someone tries to mug you?"

"I don't know, let them take my purse or whatever, my life is worth more than my money!"

He groaned, putting a hand on his forehead. "Wrong answer. You need to learn to fight. I'm gonna teach you. As soon as all this is over and you have time, you are going to be taught to defend yourself."

"Why does it matter?" she groaned. "I am too busy for that."

"Hey. My first drinking buddy could fight humans and vampires. Even Meredith could shoot people when necessary. Can you even fire a gun?"

"No, but why does it matter—?"

"Oh, you are pathetic."

"That's rude!"

"You'll thank me someday. Come on—" he poured them drinks and offered her a glass. "Drink up."

She glared at him as she drew a sip. "What were you going to say about Enzo?"