𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 ━━ KLAUS MIKAELSON

102

"SO, WHERE DID YOUR boyfriend go?" were the first words Damon said to Emery the moment they were alone.

"To his house."

"Nice," the older Salvatore drawled out then narrowed his eyes at her. "And where the hell did you go all those days, huh? You sent me one text. One." He raised a finger to lay emphasis. "And that too, it was a stupid, 'Hi from New Orleans', and after that, you said absolutely nothing. Didn't even reply to what I said. Actually, you did not even bother to read it."

"My phone died," she muttered, shooting him an apologetic look. "I did not bring my charger. And it was only one day and a couple of hours, you dramatic little thing."

"You could've sent me a flying letter or something," Damon rolled his eyes. "Don't call me 'little thing', it hurts me on the inside."

Emery opened her mouth, about to say something when a familiar voice interrupted their conversation. Alaric walked in, eyes fixed on Damon who was on the verge of pouring himself a drink. "Where's Elena?"

"She went to find Bonnie and Jeremy," Damon answered, "she was worried about the time." Alaric smiled wryly making Damon raise his brows, "what?"

"You got the girl, man." Alaric spoke, his smile still playing on his lips making Emery inwardly groan. She wasn't oblivious to the fact that Damon waned Elena— he always has. The latter did not hide it either.

"I got the girl," Damon repeated with a satisfying smirk which only grew wider when Alaric added. "Now, don't screw it up."

"Well," he lowered his head and poured himself a glass. "With you looking over my shoulder, how can I?" The moment he looked up, Alaric was no longer there.

Emery stared at the spot where he was standing seconds ago and blinked, fighting the sudden tears that began to form away. The silence that fell upon them once Alaric disappeared felt heavier than ever. Emery's footsteps could be heard as she walked over and sat on the edge of the leather couch.

Damon stood across her, his back turned to her as he poured yet more bourbon into a crystal glass, the amber liquid catching the light in a way that made it shimmer. "I'm going to miss him."

"Me too." At her words, he turned toward her with a sudden smirk, tilting the bottle in her direction. "Drink?" he offered, raising an eyebrow in that way that always made it seem like he knew more than he let on.

Emery's stomach twisted. She wanted to, more than anything, have a drink but she couldn't. She shook her head, her voice soft but firm. "Pass."

Damon's eyes narrowed slightly in amusement, and he took a sip from his glass, swirling the liquid as he sauntered closer to her. "Really?" he asked, his tone laced with teasing disbelief. "You, turning down a drink? That's new."

She swallowed hard, her hands clenching in her lap. This was it. The moment she had dreaded but knew had to come. He would find out eventually. It wasn't like she could keep this from him forever. Him, or anyone else for that matter. But Damon was the only one she truly felt like telling first.

Damon took another step toward her, stopping just a few feet away. "Come on, what's going on? You look so pale right now." He paused, his sharp eyes studying her more closely now. "Talk to me. Did Klaus do something? I swear I'll k—"

The words slipped out of her before she could stop them, "I'm pregnant."

The room seemed to freeze at the words she let out. Damon's hand stilled mid-air, his glass hovering near his lips. His eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face. For a moment, he just stared at her, as if waiting for her to laugh and tell him it was some kind of joke.

Slowly, he set his glass down on the small table beside him, the soft clink of crystal against wood echoing louder than it should have. His face twisted into a small, incredulous smile. "I think I heard you wrong," he said with a low chuckle, though his eyes remained wide with shock. "You're what?"

Emery couldn't bring herself to repeat it. She just nodded, biting her lip as she looked down at her hands, which had started to tremble. She wasn't scared of the fact that she was pregnant, but of what Damon would think. His opinion mattered to her.

The vampire blinked, running a hand through his dark hair, clearly trying to process the words that had just come out of her mouth. "But that's. . . that's impossible," he said, his voice a little more serious now. "You're with Klaus. And vampires— well, vampires can't procreate. You know that."

She sighed, rubbing her temples as she tried to find the right way to explain it. "You know Klaus is different. He's not just a vampire," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's part werewolf and werewolves can procreate."

Damon stared at her as if she had just told him the sky was green. He was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before he finally spoke. "How long have you known?"

"Not long," Emery admitted, her voice faltering slightly. "Like one day ago."

Damon's eyes softened slightly as he took in the weight of her words. His lips parted as if to say something, but then he stopped, as though he was still trying to wrap his mind around everything. "Is that why you went to New Orleans? Does Klaus know?"

She answered both questions with a mere nod, offering no words. A deep breath escaped Damon as he stepped closer, his movements slower, more deliberate. He crouched down in front of her, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked up at her with a mix of concern and curiosity. "So. . . what now?" His voice was softer now, more careful. "Have you decided what you're going to do? Are you keeping it?"'

"We are keeping it," she responded, her voice low. "I can't just. . . get rid of it."

For a moment, Damon said nothing, and the silence that followed felt thick and heavy. He stared at her, his expression unreadable once again, but there was no judgment. Just something softer, deeper. He nodded once, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smile. "Alright then," he murmured, more to himself than to her, as if he had just come to terms with it all in that moment.

Then, without another word, he sank into the couch beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, not pulling her into him like some grand gesture, but just enough to let her know he was there, that she wasn't alone. The weight of his arm was comforting, and she leaned into it, her head resting lightly against his shoulder, holding her close, as if silently promising that he was there, that he wouldn't let her go through this on her own.

"Em," he spoke after a while.

"Hmm?" She hummed and tilted her head to look up at him. "What is it?"

"I love you," he muttered, "you know that, right?"

"I love you too," she narrowed her eyes at him, knowing there was more to his sudden words.

"So. . ." He drawled out, "you know, if you're keeping this baby and all— I'm gonna need to have some kind of official title in their life."

Emery lifted her head slightly from his shoulder, blinking up at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"

He smirked, that familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes as he looked down at her. "I mean, come on, I'm basically going to be the most amazing person in this kid's life. It's only fair I get dibs on something important."'

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued now. "Dibs on what, exactly?"

Damon leaned back against the couch, turning his head just enough to give her a sidelong glance, his smirk deepening. "Godfather, of course," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I mean, I'm already doing all the hard work here—moral support, guidance, looking devilishly handsome—might as well make it official."

Emery couldn't help but laugh as she shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I'll think about it." She mused.

"There's nothing to think about," the vampire huffed then a smile reached his lips. "You know, the others are going to freak out."

"I know."