"I am not the kind of princess that needs saving. I'm probably not a princess at all. You can be the gallant prince all you want, that's fine. But, get the saving me part out of your head. I am not a damsel in distress, I am not a trapped girl. If I...
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"Be careful of her, she has healed herself more times than you can ever imagine. She wears her traumas like war paint, wiping her tears before they have a chance to roll off her cheeks. She is a healer. She is one of the dangerous ones."
~ Faye Neeland
¤~☆~¤
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Sitting in the back corner booth of The Grill with my back against the wall closest to the window and my sock-covered feet pulled up to support the book -- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire -- in my lap -- my shoes down on the floor beneath the table. I continue to read with the concentrated furrow of my brows, my bottom lip pulled lightly between my teeth until I notice a figure sit opposite me from the corner of my eye.
Sighing discontentedly, I finish the sentence I'm reading before looking to the person with an unimpressed and deadpanned expression, finding it to be an amused Damon.
"No." I say simply, only causing the corner of his lips to tug up farther.
"I haven't even said anything!" He protests in faux innocence, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.
"You have that look on your face that tells me you think you came up with a brilliant idea, but it's actually incredibly stupid, will fail epically and only succeed in pissing people off, -- causing everyone more problems, including the risk of death or bodily harm -- and there's just no reason for it whatsoever to begin with." I state bluntly, causing his mouth to open and close as he tries to come up with a valid comeback.
Rolling my eyes as another sigh leaves my lips, I place my bookmark between the pages of my book before closing it as I reach down for my shoes and tug them on. Once my feet are on the ground, I stand and take the cash from my pocket to place on the table.
"Where are you going?" He questions before I can turn to leave.
"To find somewhere with less chances to be interrupted as I read."
"Okay. See you at Jenna's barbecue." He throws the bait of conversation.
Immediately, a quiet groan leaves my lips as my head tilts back, my shoulders dropping.
Dropping my head back down, I look accusingly towards the smirking vampire.
"It was my idea." He shrugs, cocky as ever. "Jenna went to high school with Mason Lockwood, so I figured a social gathering would be a good way to get to know the guy. So, I told Ric to tell Jenna and. . ."
