Devil's Angel ° {K.M}[Rewriting]

{041}

Growing Pains
———

"Every time you hurt me, the less that I cry. And every time you leave me, the quicker these tears dry. And every time you walk out, the less I love you, baby, we don't stand a chance. it's sad, but it's true. I'm way too good at goodbyes."
—Sam Smith {Too Good at Goodbyes}
———

-

"I. . . I'm sorry." America blinked in genuine surprise from where she sat on the floor by Klaus' coffin, waiting patiently for the events she knew were coming to pass. Alaric had left ten minutes ago, Rebekah five minutes prior, and Elena, as of now, was waking from a drug-induced slumber in the passenger seat of Matt's truck. The boy had only the intention to protect the girl but his instinct to get her out of town would eventually put her in harm's way—in Rebekah's way. Damon was none the wiser and she didn't intend to tell him seeing as it would make no difference.

One way or another, the vision would come to fruition and any interference would either speed it up or at most, slow it down. America sat up straighter, running a tired hand through her hair despite her protesting muscles. "What?" The apology felt out of place, particularly because the man rarely ever apologized, even when in the wrong. The few she could ever remember getting from him were like pulling teeth. "I'm not saying it again," Damon grumbled, much more in character now as he leaned over to brace his elbows on his knees, perched on the back of the hearse.

"Well, I didn't expect you to say it at all." America had forgotten that, from the others' perspectives, Klaus was dead. Rebekah and Damon had watched him die and now, Rebekah was seeking revenge and Damon had called the others to let them know. It was with tense anticipation that the vampires waited for the breath that would be their last. "Maybe being on my deathbed is giving me a change of heart." The woman didn't correct their fear and grief of their impending deaths, bitter at many of those involved that she wanted the false consequences to sink in before the truth came out.

"Is that what it is?" Damon shrugged, averting his gaze to the expanse of the empty room. "Yeah, or maybe it's because she chose Stefan, the better man." America grimaced, picking up on the fact that he was referring to the text Elena had sent him that she was heading back to town after being well on her way to the warehouse. The why wasn't hard to figure out. Even though the brunette had said everyone else was there, by everyone else the girl had really meant Stefan. The choice had been between him or Damon and Elena had made her choice.

The woman huffed, pushing herself to her feet with a grunt before she hobbled over to where the man sat, plopping down beside him in a heap. Damon feigned annoyance as he leaned away from where she'd all but fallen on top of him. "I forgot how clingy you were." Grumbling, she pulled him back to rest her head on his arm, "Your first mistake." He laid his head on top of hers, body shaking with a heaved sigh. "Can you believe the last time we had this was months ago?" A sad smile tugged at her lips because she was all too aware of the fact.