My Predator or my Protector?

The Beginning of Reunited Friendships--Part 2

The Beginning of Reunited Friendships - Part 2

For a man who could hold his drink, Damon Salvatore was amazing at it. Despite being a vampire, he still had those small human qualities that were useful when he had too much going on.

Or when he just wanted to drink.

His mind was all over the place-cooking, cleaning, watching a movie, drinking, and, as usual, feasting on a bag of blood whenever he could. With Stefan out retrieving Damon's groceries from the local hospital, Damon could do whatever he wanted while the unemotional teenager was gone. It was a regular Friday night for him, doing whatever he could before he went to the woods during the weekends to hunt. But, lately, things had been unusual for him. For example, for the past seven months, the vampire had been a hermit-or at least anti-social. He hadn't spoken to Stefan; hadn't fought any werewolves recently. He hadn't even attempted to go over Elena's house to win her over-in a month.

What is wrong with me?

He didn't know; he could never figure out why. It bothered him for a while now, and the only thing that could drive him away from the problem was hunting people for blood. But the question kept occurring, so much that he eventually refused to take another's blood for the sake of a silly problem. It was almost like him trying to do anything he could to make Elena his, stooping so low to convincing Bonnie to apologize to her.

"Bennett," Damon muttered, his mind not recognizing the name like it could before. Her last name gave him chills-he had fought her ancestors from killing him and Stefan. Those commemorations, however, should never be brought back from the depths of his brain. He still had pain from the table that was thrown at his back by Bonnie's great-great-great-great uncle Charles.

Cursing the now lifeless wizard who protruded his mind, Damon treaded to the wine rack. Muttering words, he snatched the first bottle he could get his cold fingers on and tore off the irritable cork. Red wine splashed out and dripped down his hand, but he paid no mind, putting the glass to his lips and tilting the aged juice aloft. After insufficient quaffs, the man placed the bottle of wine on the coffee table and paced around, his left hand on his nine o'clock shadow.

"I wonder how the wicked witch is doing being a loner," he thought aloud. He chuckled. "Must be pretty darn tough having only Caroline to talk to for months. I wouldn't think anyone could handle that." He stopped walking, his drunken insanity working the gears inside his head.

"Wait, Bonnie's strong; she can and did handle it," Damon grinned, reminding himself that Bonnie dumped Jeremy-not the other way around. "She's a smart girl...just like Elena."

Elena; he still loved her. He still wanted to immaturely shove vervain down his younger brother's throat for getting to her first. Observing the two being in each other's presences made the vampire...depressed. He couldn't bare it-he needed to have Elena. Stefan won't let him near the girl as long as he lived. It wasn't fair to Damon; he believed he deserved something good for once. He thought he deserved better than Katherine's betrayal.

Groaning, he went back and guzzled down more of the wine, swallowing his troubles away for the moment. It was Friday, for God's sake-relaxing on the couch and watching pointless late night television shows were Damon's main priorities, and nothing could screw that up for him. Taking in another enormous swig of alcohol, he waltzed over and plopped onto his soft, Victorian settee. He then scrutinized the flat screen that was in front of him, eyeing in confusion at the so-called "comedy" in the show that was currently on. The heck? They ripped that off from the fifth season of Saturday Night Live and some old cop show from the forties.

Knock

"What," Damon replied, turning his head at the direction of the front door. Had Stefan returned from shopping? No; he usually stops by Elena's and ends up spending the rest of the weekend there. If he's not here, who was?