'You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye
And I got that red lip classic thing that you like
And when we go crashing down, we come back every time
'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style
You got that long hair, slicked bac...
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When the three Swans had entered their home, they had gone their separate ways. Hardin had decided to spend time with Charlie watching basketball as Bella went to her room to finish her homework.
Damon decided to go to his room and, after cleaning himself of the salt water, that made his body feel alive. He found himself sitting on in his window seal with his drawing book in his lap and his pencil in his hand.
He remembered the conversation him and his siblings had in the truck. They had told him the story Jacob Black had told them.
"So you're telling me every Quileutes or whatever is some sort of wolf?" Damon questioned his sister as she reapeted everything Jacob Black told them on the beach.
He glanced towards Hardin, who nodded his, Damon knew it was true then. When even the smartest person he had ever met believed these stories.
"And okay, here's the even funnier part." Damon took a left turn, raising his hand, pointing a finger in the air. "The Cullen's are some cold one vampires that have been at war with those wolfs."
Bella nodded, her head not detecting Damon's sarcasm.
Hardin sighed before throwing his head back in his seat. "Damon, I believe that story, I mean, come on, you've noticed it. The way the Cullen's don't eat or drink or show up in biology when there's blood involved."
Like always, Hardin made the right points.
Damon pulled into the driveway turing of the truck. He sighed as he once again hated the fact that Hardin used his big brain power and was right.
"So what? You just want towalk up to them and say Hey I know you are a vampire and kill things drinking their blood, but I still want to touch your lips with mine." Damon looked at them both. A part of him would have told Rosalie that.
He would have told her he didn't care. He didn't know about what she was or what she had done on her past because whatever she had done was better than what he had done.
Damon would have.
But he can't.
"I'm going to get more proof, then well go from there." Hardin told them both.
His hand moved on its own, ignoring his mind that screamed at him to stop, but his heart sketched across the page of his book as he made sure her eyes reflected the usual glare she held in them.
It was his favourite look.
She always stared at him with a glare in her eyes, making him feel like he was being told off. But he wished to have her look at him like that again.
