Metanoia

Chapter Three

I didn't say anything. The man opposite me didn't either. I wait for the waitress to arrive.

The man won't hurt me. It was a public space and even if he did, it wouldn't matter.

I inhale sharply. Of course it would matter, not to me, but to others. How could I be so selfish? Charlie, Jakob, Angela, Renee, they still cared but the tragic thing was that I didn't feel like I cared about them still.

"Who are you?" I looked up. He was asking me that. I didn't answer. If he didn't know who I was, then why was he here? The waitress come finally.

"What can I get you two?" I didn't remember her name, Charlie probably would. I say in answer what I had always said. Or that's what I think my regular order was. She looked at the man. He said he wants the same as me. I seriously doubted that.

"Who are you?" He asked again. I kept my silence. What did he want from me? He realised that I wouldn't say anything and he took a deep breath.

"I'm Damon Salvatore." He said, like it mattered somehow. There was pride in that name.

"Savior." I said, quickly translating it. A hint of irony color my words. I glanced up and he looked surprised. He tilted his head to the side.

"Do you know Italian?" He asked, in Italian. I shrug and continue with my silence. I wouldn't tell him after knowing what the Volturi was and what it did, I taught myself Italian. The minimal information written about the cult was written in Italian. The chance of him being a messenger of the cult was close to impossible, him being nothing like a cold one and the chance of the Cullens outing me to the Volturi was also an impossibility. They were cruel people, but not traitorous.

"You're not a very talkative person are you?" I didn't answer, mostly out of spite. He looked like the type of person who expects answers. He snorted and shook his head.

"You're very reminiscent of having to finally accept the extent of isolation you experience from the society you live in as a consequence of you not ceasing to learn and explore counterintuitive thought processes, you slowly cease speaking the language of the people that ceased learning around the time they reach adulthood. Why is that?" I looked up after his ramble and try to dissect his words and what he meant by them. He must have seen my confusion because he opens his mouth again.

"Your melancholy is very radiant." He looked at me, hard. He didn't look past me or dismissively. He cared about my reaction.

"Don't romanticize my  depression." I hoped it didn't sound like a plea. He looked shocked at my request.

"I'm not, I'm simply trying to understand it." He said finally. I still didn't understand what he wanted from me.

"Damon, stop harassing her." I flinched at the new voice. A woman, directly behind me.

"Elena, I'm not harassing anyone." I didn't bother so look up and see who he was talking to. But I could feel the woman's gaze on my back like a flame. I shifted in my seat.

"What are you doing, is that her? The someone Bonnie talked about?" I raised my brows and looked at the man. Maybe he was involved with the Volturi after all. I prepared to run.

"What the fuck are you talking about? Go away. I don't want you here." It was harshly said and I wasn't surprised by his outburst either. He didn't seem like a person who had a lot of experience with patience. The woman huffed and she was clearly offended.

"Damon," I gritted my teeth together. Her whining tone and her annoyance reminded me of myself. Naive was the first word that came to mind.

"I don't want you running around and talking to random girls." That sounded like an accusation coming from a woman dating someone. I looked at the man. He clearly didn't want her there, so why did the woman act like she owned him.

"Elena-"

"I actually don't mind. You were interrupting something." My voice sounded gritty and unused. I winced at my words. The man smiled triumphantly and looked up at the woman.

"As I said, I'm not harassing anybody. I think that's your queue to leave." The woman left, judging on how his focus left from the spot behind me to my face again.

"Sorry, she's annoying I know." He said and seemed annoyed himself of having to keep talking about her. I looked down at the table and at my hands again.

"So why are you still talking with her?" I asked, he was surprised by the question and furrowed his brows.

"Because she's my brother's girlfriend." He sounded unsure of his answer. His brother. I was a little confounded, he seemed almost disgusted by it. I didn't know if it was of his brother or the woman.

"That doesn't entitle you of being her punching bag." I said, I was surprised by my own words. He was too and then shook away his frown and painted on an easy smirk.

"Family issues, how cliche." He said and shrugged. I snorted.

"Everyone has them, it's doesn't make you special." I whisper. He heard it.

"My family is very different."

"I'll take your word or it." We lapse into silence again and I didn't feel as awkward about it anymore. I didn't really feel that social awkwardness anymore. I was still numb to the most obvious things and I was glad that he didn't rush it and push for questions and answers. He seemed content on just sharing a meal together in silence.