"Vodka" she stated flatly, her voice devoid of warmth or emotion, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of the bar.
The bartender hesitated for a moment, unnerved by the chilling aura surrounding the young woman. He quickly poured the drink, trying to maintain his composure despite the unsettling feeling that lingered in the air.
"Anything else?" he inquired. Emmie's lips curled into a smirk, "Nothing else, just turn around and shut up" she replied coldly, her voice laced with a chilling indifference that made the bartender swallow nervously. He turned away, busying himself with preparing another drink, silently hoping to avoid any further interaction with the heartless vampire witch.
As Emmie Fowler raised the glass of vodka to her lips, the aroma of alcohol stinging her senses, she couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness. Usually, her witch self, the very idea of consuming alcohol would have been repulsive to her. But simply she didn't give a fuck.
As she took another sip her phone started vibrating. She glanced at the screen it was 'Stefan Salvatore'. She rolled her eyes and picked it up, she knew it was not Stefan it was probably Damon since Stefan has no humanity.
"What do you want, Salvatore?" she coldly asked.
"Where the hell are you? We need your witchy senses to track Stefan and the hybrid" Damon's voice dripped with sarcasm and impatience, each word laced with a hint of irritation as he paced back and forth in the Salvatore mansion.
She scoffed, "Oh now, you're finally worrying about me, Damon. I used to think we were friends now I realise people just need me because they need something or else you wouldn't really need me as much do you?"
Without hesitation, Emmie ended the call. She knew all too well that people rarely needed her, and she had grown accustomed to the isolation that came with her choices. She lifted the glass of vodka to her lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip. The alcohol burned faintly, but it did nothing to satisfy the hunger that gnawed at her insides.
