I stood in my closet, trying to shake off the remnants of a restless night. I threw my hair into a messy bun, using a marble blue and gray chopstick hairpin to hold it in place.
I breathed and pulled on an orange crop top sweatshirt before slipping into my leggings. With one last glance at the closet, I walked to my bed, grabbed my sketchbook, and shoved it into my bag.
"Going somewhere?"
I jumped and whipped around, finding Damon leaning against my window. The frown on my face deepened as I noticed the window propped open.
"Can't you use the front door?" I asked, irritation clear in my voice.
"Your mom would never let me in," he smirked.
"You've been invited in, Damon. She couldn't stop you."
"The Celeste I know would," he retorted, his tone challenging.
I rolled my eyes. "What do you want, Damon?"
I bent over to pick up my bag and sketchbook that had fallen to the floor, ignoring the way Damon's heated gaze followed my movements.
"You're coming with me," he said, his voice firm.
I sighed, standing up and slinging my bag over my shoulder. "And why would I do that?"
"Because I need your help."
I stared at him, unconvinced. He walked over, brushing a wisp of hair behind my ear before rubbing his thumb against my cheek.
"Please, Sunshine."
The softness in his voice almost made me relent.
I took a step back, not wanting to lean into his touch. "Help with what?"
A smirk tugged at his lips. I didn't like the look in his eyes.
"No, Damon—" I started, but he swept me into his arms and sped out of my house.
The world blurred around me, and in the blink of an eye, we stood in a bedroom at the Salvatore Boarding House.
"Rise and shine, sleepyheads," Damon announced loudly, his voice slicing through the silence.
