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Discontent. It was an emotion that Reagan had almost forgot the feeling of. Well, maybe it wasn't discontent. Perhaps, well, maybe it was, well. He wasn't sure. His eyebrows were furrowed as thoughts raced through his mind, stretching his shoulders to try and get rid of the tension.
A distasteful frown was on the demons face, running a hand through his dark hair with a quiet sigh. He was all too aware of the creature next to him sleeping. Reagan rested his head in his hands, trying to push down whatever feelings were in his chest. He hated those feelings. It felt as though he was ill, not being able to place exactly how he felt.
"You're up early," the demon looked over to see Stefan rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
"Usually when I stay the night it's because I plan to kill someone in the morning." The incubus mumbled quietly, craning his neck as he continued to stretch trying to distract himself from his emotions. Stefan let out a soft chuckle, burying his head into the pillow as he kept his eyes on Reagan.
"So why'd you stay this time?" Stefan's question remained unanswered as Reagan leaned back. The vampire watched with a soft smile, observing the demon. It had been one of the times Stefan had seen him look oddly human. It was a rare occurrence, usually seeing the man look so precise. Maybe that was why it was so easy to tell he wasn't human, no human would be so aware and be so sure of every word that came out of his mouth.
"Tell me a story," Reagan leaned his head onto Stefan's chest. The vampire hummed, moving his hand to run through the demons hair.
"I was born in the eighteen-hundreds, Damon was too. He went off to the war and right after he left I went to my room and cried." Reagan frowned as he listened to the Salvatore speak, shaking his head softly.
"Why would you tell me that?" Stefan remained silent as he continued to run his fingers through the boy's hair. "When people ask to hear a story, they usually want it to be happy. They want something that makes them smile." From the way Reagan spoke anyone would've assumed he was getting angry, but Stefan knew better from the short time he had spent around the incubus.
"Well not all stories are happy." Reagan scoffed at that, his eyes rolling back in his head as he leaned away from Stefan's touch. The vampire couldn't seem to understand where the demons head was at, observing him over and over and trying to see if anything was unusual.
Reagan's lips were pursed into a frown, his eyes squinted as he looked outside. Stefan had never seen him like this, on edge almost. He couldn't place what was happening and frankly, neither could Reagan. With another sigh Reagan pulled on his jeans and threw on his shirt, running his hands through his hair.
"Leaving?" Stefan asked quietly, still lying in bed as he watched the man intently.
"This was a mistake," the demon rolled his shoulders ignoring how quickly Stefan sat up out of bed.
"What do you mean?"
"Sleeping with you, making this stupid deal." Reagan hissed through his teeth as he pulled on his shoes, anger taking over his flawless features. "I don't need to make a deal with you. I can do whatever I want. I can kill whoever I want."
"What are you talking about?" Stefan stood, grabbing the demons forearm. Reagan's eyebrows furrowed, clenching his teeth as a glare set on Stefan.
"Get your hand off me," he growled. Wrenching back his hand with a huff. Stefan was beyond confused as he watched the incubus move toward the door. "Deals off."
Reagan was, well, unsteady. Uneasy? Restless? He didn't know. He just wanted it to go the hell away. The sick feeling in his stomach as he walked down the streets of Mystic Falls. The feeling that had an ugly expression on his flawless face that just wouldn't go away. His thoughts were all over the place, the sickly feeling quickly transforming into anger.
Reagan stormed into the grill, not giving a second glance to Matt as he walked into the bathroom. He locked he door behind himself, his chest rising and falling as he gripped onto the sink. Reagan hated feeling. It was almost the most distasteful thing he could think of. He hated it, he hated anything that didn't feel like lust. He didn't know how to feel anything except for desire and anger.
The demon stared himself down in the mirror with a clenched jaw, trying to place the exact moment these feelings came into being. He was inhibited, the urge to leave the bathroom and kill half of the population of Mystic Falls seeming rather appealing.
However, as the demon looked over himself again and again he finally seemed to place the plight that harassed him.
Reagan Graves was feeling insecure. And he wanted nothing more than for it to go the hell away.
