THE VAMPIRE DIARIES
'Is this a bad time to mention that I'm not Elena?'
Two vampires falling in love isn't exactly a functional norm in the world of Mystic Falls, and the relationship forged between Katherine Pierce and Florence Allen is...
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"OKAY, THAT'S enough, Flore."
The lady in question, everyone's absolutely favorite blonde, lifted her head from the warm neck of the human in annoyance. She stared back at the older girl and felt a slight twinge in her heart. She was in her mid-to-late twenties and had just been on her way back to California when she was grabbed by a determined Florence.
Her dull blue eyes reminded her an awful lot of Italy, and she didn't take that into account until she had transferred the limp girl into Katherine's arms. Her stomach dropped at the sight of her pale skin, the two puncture marks on her neck still bleeding profusely.
"Did I kill her?"
Katherine's eyes flashed with an emotion Florence could not decipher. It was an emotion so rare to see on her face that it came as soon as it went and left Florence with a confused expression. Was it pity? Was Katherine Pierce, after centuries of living a loveless life, finally feeling a human emotion?
Florence prepared herself for the worst but, when Katherine shook her head and let out a relieved "No," she sighed, letting out a short laugh.
"Thank the heavens," she breathed out, now watching without an ounce of guilt as Katherine wrapped up the mark on her neck with her scarf and gently laid her on the side of the barren freeway. "You compelled her, right?"
Katherine rolled her eyes. "Of course I compelled her. You need to be more careful, Florence Allen; you may not have killed your first human today, but it'll happen soon if you don't learn control."
She furrowed her brows, asking out of pure curiosity, "Why are you so hellbent on making sure I don't end up as a reckless vampire? From all the stories I've heard about you, you don't care about anyone but yourself."
"That's not completely false," she said. Then, after processing her question, she shrugged, smirking mischievously. "Maybe I just like you."
Florence scoffed. "We both know that's not the only reason you're keeping me around."
"All in due time, Flore," she mused, an evil glint in her eyes. "All in due time."
Suddenly, Florence's phone rang and she frowned, pulling it out of her back pocket. When she looked at her time and then the person messaging her, she widened her eyes and cursed herself for forgetting that she had other plans to get to on that day.
DAMON: Are you bailing on me, Bambi?
Katherine peered over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow at the nickname. "Who's that?"
Florence turned her head to the side, breath hitching at their close proximity. If either girl moved half an inch, they would do something they would deeply regret in the long run. The blonde took a few steps forward, ignoring how her heart stung and face burned.
"No one," she quickly excused, shutting her phone off and turning around so she was facing the girl. "I—I have to go."
Before Katherine had a chance to say goodbye, she sped off into the woods, almost crashing into a few trees on her way to the Boarding House.
There, she met Damon, who was loosely cradling a glass of bourbon in his hand. Sensing her presence, he quickly turned around and handed her the glass in his hand.
"You're gonna need this more than me."
Florence furrowed her eyebrows before downing the drink. Afterward, she gave him a confused look. "Why do I need this, exactly?"
He bit his lip, leaning against the counter of his kitchen. "You're sister's a vampire."
Florence, who was now pouring another glass of bourbon for herself, stopped abruptly and gave him a hearty laugh. At that, he raised an eyebrow and she shook her head, the smile of disbelief still on her face.
"You're really telling me my sister—the same sister I haven't seen in days—is a vampire?" she asked, shaking her head once again with a scoff. "You really expect me to believe that?"
He shrugged, taking the bottle from her hands and pouring her a drink himself.
"I don't expect you to do anything," he said. Then, a thought donned on him and he smirked, leaning forwards to taunt her further. "Don't you wanna know who turned her?"
Her eyes widened, now fully believing he was speaking the truth. Then, they narrowed and she could feel anger bubbling in her gut.
"You didn't do it, did you? I swear, Damon—"
He made a face.
"No," he denied. "However. . ."
She groaned, taking a drink out of the bottle rather than pouring another one. The thought of her sister being a vampire alongside her somehow made her feel a bit giddy, especially since she now knew for a fact that she was never going to be alone. At the same time, though, it put a damper on her otherwise cheerful mood; her sister feeding on a human was something she never thought she'd even think of seeing.
"Just tell me so I can beat his ass already," she muttered, feeling a slight buzz in her head, which made her raise an eyebrow. To her knowledge, it took a long time for vampires to get drunk, so the fact that bourbon gave her the slightest bit of lightheadedness was surprising.
"Logan Fell."
She choked on her drink, covering her mouth quickly as she tried to get her coughs to die down.
"Excuse me?"
His smirk never fell. "You heard me. Your dear friend Ryan's undead dad killed your sister. —well, he fed her his blood before he killed her, but still. Doesn't that make you . . . angry?"
He watched intently as her hand tightened against the bottle. With a taunting grin, he continued to push her buttons, hoping that what he thought of her was true, hoping that who he thought she was ended up to be true.
"How do you think he killed her? Do you think he did this"—he placed his hands around her neck—"felt her life leave her body as she took her last breath? He probably made her suffer, too. I always heard Italy could be a big bit—"
"Stop," she demanded, ripping his hands from her neck. "I know what you're doing, and it's not gonna work. I'm not gonna be a part of your plans, Damon."
Because I'm already a part of Katherine's, she thought, already flashing back to earlier that day when she'd almost killed someone.
"Oh, Florence," he said, placing his hands on her cheeks now. He spoke to her as if she was a little child, which only made her blood boil further. "You're already a part of them."
With that, he patted her cheeks and walked away, leaving a seething Florence standing in the middle of his kitchen.
