On My Own (TVD Series)

Flirting With The Enemy

Damon's POV

Pressing my finger on the edge of my ball glass, I dozed off while staring at the remainder of the bourbon in the bottle. With the bar barely open, Stefan and I sat near the back on one of the high tables as locals ate and drank along the booths. Still letting the sad and lingering feeling of Elena's memories not coming back settle in my brain, I stared down at the table as I brooded quietly while Stefan poured himself another glass.

Mumbling to himself about Aurora's grimoires, he glanced back and forth from the table to the front door when I sighed loudly, chugging down the rest of my glass.

"What now?" Stefan asked.

"I was this close...to having everything. Lauren, Elena...our lives."

"I know...I'm sorry."

"Everybody's sorry...all except you."

"Damon-"

"No, I get it...Lauren made it very clear."

Twisting the glass under my fingertips, Stefan closed the grimoires, intertwining his fingers across the leather backing as he leaned into the table.

"What we promised...it was years ago, and-"

"...it's not your fault."

"What?"

"Yeah...it's not." I sighed.

"I don't-...I don't understand."

"I wasn't apart of your lives after we transitioned...and Lauren explained it, so...you're off the hook."

"Thanks...but you were both trapped in that prison because of me, so-"

"How?" I blurted out.

"Lauren found the travelers for the cure...they trapped me and she stayed, she linked herself to one of the travelers and that almost got her killed. The entire town is anti-magic, and our great plan got our family trapped in a prison world..."

Staring at me with those puppy dog eyes while I sat there with my lips pierced and ball glass tilted to the side, I squinted my eyes at Stefan as he gazed down at the grimoire.

"...yeah, you're right. It's all your fault." I chuckled.

Letting the waitress refill the stack of peanuts on our table, Stefan remained quiet for the next few minutes. Staring off into the distance while I poured myself another glass, I noticed that he was more anxious than normal.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

"Yeah...I'm fine."

"Okay...then why the leg shaking?"

"What?"

Raising my brows, I looked down at his edge of the table, seeing as his bourbon was vibrating against the glass.

"Oh, I"m just-"

"Nervous?" I sighed.

"...no, I...I'm guilty."

"Of what?"

"Of leaving...running away when I should've stayed to get the both of you back."

"Heh...and how were you going to do that without a witch. Bonnie's dead, Lauren's stuck in 1994, and I doubt the New Orleans witches would help you."

"I guess, I would've figured something out...you always do and-"

"Lauren ends up cleaning my mess...while you stand there seductively pouting and judging me." I chuckled.