Imagination is the key (stefan, Damon love triangle)

Chapter Seventy-One

The Salvatore house looked the as it did when I was last here, not that I expected much difference but still, I hated that it looked the same. I kicked my and then shoved it open. It slammed back against the wall. I didn't bother closing it after me and waltzed into the house like I owned it.

"Hello!" I shouted out. I made my way into the familiar parlour and a newly opened bottle of some scotch sat on one of the small tables. "Jackpot."

I swiped it off the table, twisted the lid of took a gulp from the bottle.

"That's mine." A voice said behind me.

Slowly I pulled the bottle away and turned around, smirking. "Damon," I greeted. "What a pleasant surprise."

"You're in my house." He said, emotionlessly. He reached out to take the bottle from my grasp but I jerked it back and wagged my finger in his face.

"Ah, ah, ah! Finders keepers."

His eyes narrowed. "I didn't lose it."

"Doesn't matter. It's mine now."

"That's called theft."

"It's called being a vampire who doesn't give a shit." I corrected. Purposely gulping down another mouthful.

Damon sighed, agitatedly. "What are you doing here?"

I frowned and dropped myself heavily into one of the chairs. "You don't seem surprised to see me. Why?"

"Elena called." He responded bluntly.

"So she lives." I noted. "I guess Klaus got the right idea. If she's alive, it means more blood."

"He was draining her. I saved her life."

"You say that like you expect a thank you."

"You know it wouldn't hurt to care the smallest bit." he snapped

"Yeah, well, you're not me." I said. "Because obviously it did."

"Why're you here, Lillie?" He repeated.

I leant forward, elbows placed on my knees. "What? Not happy to see me?"

"Happy isn't the word i'd use."

"How about ecstatic?"

"No." He then blurred across the room and when he stilled he had the bottle of Scotch in his hand.

My eyebrows shot up to my hair line. "Hey! Now who's the thief? I was drinking that, asshole."

"And now I am." He put it to his lips and tipped his head back, downing more than I'd have liked him too.

"Sharing's caring." I pointed out.

"I thought you didn't care?"

"About people. I care very much about the drinks. They don't tell me what to do."

"No, they make you do it instead."

"Since i've died, I've been pissed probably more than I've been sober and I have yet to turn my emotions on. Alcohol doesn't have that kind of effect on me. Sorry to disappoint."

"Worth a shot." He muttered.

"Can I have it back now?"

"When did you get manners? Even human you had none."

"I've always had manners, Damon, you've just never deserved them."

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" He eyes narrowed.