"How was the slumber party?" Stefan's voice rang through the room, waking me up. I turned to see him standing by the window, shirtless, phone right by his ear. From the other side of the phone, I could hear Elena. 

   "Good and much needed," she said. "When can you and I have one?"

   "Mmm, that can be arranged," Stefan answered with the same flirtatious tone. I covered my mouth with part of the covers, trying not to laugh. 

   "Okay. Now. Today," Elena answered back. "Take me far, far away..." She sounded like one of those fairy-tale characters. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep as they continued to talk. When they finished, Stefan let out a breath.

   "I know you're awake," he chuckled. "Come on, Clara. Wake up."

   I sat up and looked at him, laying my fist under my chin. "That was... That was some form of flirting which I didn't need to listen to," I laughed. "Really, I didn't need to listen to that."

   "Sorry," he laughed, looking down at his phone. "I should have gone downstairs."

   "Yeah, you should've," I agreed. "Now, breakfast? Would you like a full-fledged breakfast or blood-on-the-go?" I stood up and stretched my arms over my head, smiling at him. There was something in Stefan that made me smile, and it also made me feel uncomfortable. Why would I smile so much with his presence? 

   "English breakfast?" he hummed, following me down the stairs. "Do you know how to cook? Last time you tried cooking, well, you burned it."

   "That was when I was a human," I explained, rolling my eyes, "and over one hundred and forty five years ago. Do you know what I can do now? No! I can probably make an amazing cuisine that tastes better than Gordon Ramsay's."

   Stefan leaned against the wall as I moved around the kitchen, with his arms crossed and a small smile around his lips. It wasn't an annoyed smile, it was one that revealed that he was amused and happy. Did I bring him happiness? Obviously not. It was Elena and the trip they had planned. They were going to her parents lake house, and they were going to have fun. She put it that way, but we—mostly me accidentally hearing everything—knew the kind of fun she really meant.

   "So, what are you making?" Stefan asked in the middle of it. 

   I took a step back and looked around. "A breakfast casserole, french toast, and fruit." I looked at him and smiled. "I think I went a bit overboard..."

   "Why are you making so much?" he laughed. "You have more things in your kitchen than any other vampire."

   "I guess it makes me feel human," I mumbled, quickly glancing at him. "I don't know, I just do. Sometimes, I make food just because I miss it, but then I throw it away because it doesn't taste the same." I put down the knife and took a deep breath, smiling. It wasn't time for me to be sad, so that was why I smiled. "How about you invite Elena? She's been a but wary if me since, you know, that night."

   "Clara, she's not wary of you," Stefan said, sitting up. "She's just—"

   "Scared?" I finished for him. "She's scared of me, Stefan, and I don't blame her. I killed that family, she has every right to be scared. Listen, I don't want her to be terrified of me. I'm here helping you protect her, and how can I protect someone when they're afraid of me?"

   Stefan stared at me for a couple of seconds. He pulled out his phone and walked out of the room. As I continued cooking, I heard him speak with Elena. She sounded wary, just like I told him she would, but she agreed. After the breakfast, he would head to her house and then to the lake house. I didn't care about that, I only cared about her being not so afraid of me. She was Caroline's friend, Stefan's girlfriend, I should be nice to her.

   Elena came twenty minutes later, all dressed and with a scared look in her eyes. She smiled at me, but it was one of those smiles that told me that she only came because Stefan begged her to. On the table, she took a seat right by Stefan as I served. Each one of us had a plate of warm food, which was strange. Normally, I would have been okay with a bag of blood. Maybe it was me wanting to feel human that made me cook the breakfast. 

   "This is good!" Elena hummed as she pushed the fork to her mouth. "Did you make this?" She looked at me while chewing, a smile around her lips.

   "Yeah," I smiled. "With immortality comes boredom, and boredom turned to cooking classes."

   "Good thing she took those. She used to burn food," Stefan laughed. Elena joined the laughter as well. I picked a piece of the french toast and threw it at him. He continued to smile. "I'm just telling it as it is, Clara."

   "Okay, yeah, I was a horrible cook," I admitted. "That is why I learned! If I opened a restaurant now, I could probably earn three Michelin stars."

   Elena no longer looked scared of me, she looked comfortable. She ate, she laughed, and she accidentally spat orange juice at Stefan and I. There was no silence during the breakfast, only laughter and talking. She asked us questions about our friendship and our past, and we answered truthfully. Mostly, she wanted to know about our friendship. I noticed that her eyes glanced from Stefan to I over again, and I could see that she thought there were romantic feelings in our friendship. We assured her that we were only the best of friends and nothing more.

   I cleaned up when they left, and while I did my phone rang. Without looking at the callers ID, I answered. "Hello?"

   "Clara," the clear voice of Elijah rang through the kitchen. "I'm glad you answered."

   "Elijah..." I gulped. "What do I owe this call?"

   "I was wondering if you'd like to come to the Historical's Society tea party as my guest?" he asked. His voice sounded so regal, so calm. If a stranger heard it, they would think that there was nothing to be worried about. It was so calming, so dangerous. 

    "Why?"

   "No reason," he responded. I could practically hear him fixing the jacket of his suit. "I just want you to come, Clara, as friends. You left in a hurry last time. From what I heard on the news, you were terribly hungry."

   I swallowed hard and stared down at the sink. There was water dripping from the faucet, two drips every second. His words rang in my mind. I could hear him taunting me. Maybe Stefan was right about Elijah compelling me. I wanted to find out, so I agreed to go to the party.

  I got dressed in a navy coloured dress with a pair of black heels. To me, I looked formal and simple. When I arrived, I came to realize that I didn't look as fancy as the other attendees did. They wore tights under their dresses, pearls and diamonds, and probably name brand purses filled with little to nothing.

   "Clara," Elijah greeted as I walked to him. "It's lovely to see you again."

   "Elijah," I greeted in return.

   He grabbed my arm and wrapped it around his. With a soft smile around his lips, we began to move around the house. He greeted people as if it were his home, his party. And then Carol Lockwood came, miraculously. She began to speak with Elijah as I stood next to them, listening. According to what I heard, Elijah was a historian.

   "Have you spent much time in Richmond for your book?" Carol asked. "There's such wealth of history there."

   "No," Elijah answered with a smile, "I'm focusing mostly on the smaller regions of Virginia. Lot's of research. Strictly academic." When he said that, Carol glanced at me. 

   "That's fascinating," she gushed. "And, how do you know Clara?"

   There it is, I thought. It was something she's been itching to ask ever since she first saw me by Elijah's side.

   "Clara is a very good friend of mine," Elijah responded with a smile. "She has helped me with a lot of my work. If she wanted, I think she could be a historian as well."

   "Now you're just praising," I chuckled, waving a hand at him.

   "Damon, what are you doing here?"

   At the sound of his name, I turned my head. Jenna was standing in front of Damon, who was looking around. The woman from the news, Andie Star, came and pecked him in the lips. I squeezed Elijah's arm in surprise, almost taking a step back. It felt as if my chest began to cave in, like an avalanche crushing my heart. I turned my head and looked back at Carol, forcing a small smile.

   "Damon," Carol then greeted. I turned my head to see him walking to us.

   "Carol," he greeted back. 

   "What a surprise," she smiled. They leaned in and pecked each other in the cheek. She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards us. "Elijah, I want you to meet Damon Salvatore. His family is one of Mystic Falls' founding families."

   "Mm-hm," Damon smiled and looked at Elijah. "It's such a pleasure to meet you." His voice was low, almost threateningly.

   "No," Elijah returned. "Pleasure's mine."

   When Damon's eyes met mine, I looked away. I didn't want to look at him, I didn't even want to be in the same room as him. To be honest, I was jealous. After we slept together, he moved on to Andie Star, which obviously meant that what happened between us didn't matter. There were no emotions in his touch, on his lips as they kissed every inch of my skin. What we did was emotionless. It was pity, it was stupid. 

   As soon as Carol left, Damon pulled Elijah to the study. Elijah didn't let go of my arm, not even when I tried to pull away. Instead, he dragged me along. It was only when we entered that he let go of me. I swallowed hard and moved to the double doors, leaning right by them.

   "What can I do for you, Damon?" As he spoke, Elijah took his stand by the sofa.

   "I was hoping we could have a word," Damon answered.

   "Where's Elena?" Elijah then questioned. He did make a promise, or something like that, to her about her staying alive in return of him keeping her friends alive.

   "Safe with Stefan," Damon replied with boredom laced on his tongue. "They're laying low, you know, bit of a werewolf problem."

   "Oh yeah," Elijah hummed. "I heard about that."

   "I'm sure you did since it was your witch that saved the day."

   "You are welcome."

   "Which adds to my confusion on why exactly are you here," Damon continued, taking a seat on the desk.

   "Why don't you just stay focused on keeping Elena safe, Clara alive, and leave the rest to me."

   "Me?" I pointed at myself. "I can stay alive by myself, Elijah."

   "From what I heard, you took Damon's fault for killing a werewolf," he silenced me. "You can't keep yourself alive, Clara. You couldn't do so in 1864, what makes you think you can do so now?" I opened and closed my mouth several times as I tried to find words to say, but nothing came to mind. How could he? 

   Elijah began to leave, but Damon sped and stood in front of him. "Not good enough," he said, a small smirk around his lips. Elijah suddenly grabbed Damon by the throat and pushed him against the wall. 

   "Elijah!" I gasped. 

   Damon grabbed him by the throat in retaliation, but Elijah didn't budge. Easily, Elijah grabbed Damon's hand and pulled it off his neck, crushing his hand. Damon groaned, looking down at his hand in pain.

   "You young vampires, so arrogant," Elijah mused, letting go of his hand. "How dare you come in here and challenge me?"

   "You can't kill me, man," Damon gasped. "It's not part of the deal."

   "Silence," Elijah hissed. Keeping his hold on Damon's neck, he grabbed a pencil from the desk and stabbed him in the neck. "I'm an Original. Show a little respect." He dangled a handkerchief. Damon grabbed it and pressed it to his wound. "The moment you cease to be of use to me, you're dead, so you should do as I say. Keep Elena safe and keep Clara alive." He straightened his posture and walked out of the room

   "Are you okay?" I immediately asked Damon.

   "I just got stabbed in the neck," Damon hissed. "What do you think?"

    I crossed my arms. "I think you were stupid for thinking you could take on a thousand year old vampire."

   "You're just saying that because he's your friend," he scoffed, touching his neck. He was checking if the wound had healed.

   "Hmm, yeah, that must be it," I sarcastically nodded, slightly pursing my lips. "There must not be any other reason. I mean, it's not like I care about you or anything, right?"

   "Oh, you care about me?" He pointed at himself with both hands and opened his mouth in a small 'O'. The sarcasm radiated off him, and I wanted to punch him the face. "Clara, you shouldn't! Why would you care about lil' old me?"

   I scoffed and uncrossed my arms. "You know what? Screw you, Damon Salvatore." I marched to the door, but stopped before opening it. I swallowed hard and looked down at my hands. "I tried caring for you. I tried, but that's obviously not enough for you, isn't it, Damon?" I turned my head towards him. "I took your fault for killing Mason, I took care of you after you killed that girl, and obviously, that wasn't enough. What else do I have to do to make you see that I still care about you? Do I have to die?" A soft smile formed on my lips, soft and filled with pain as words escaped my mouth. "Do I have to be tortured? Or do I need to remind you every single day? Would putting your life in front of mine be sufficient enought?"

   Damon kept his mouth shut as I continued to ramble on. My mouth continued to move, words about how I cared about him and how he meant a lot to me. I didn't know how I ended up telling him that I cared a lot, that I cared to the point where I wouldn't mind sacrificing myself for him. It scared me how much I cared. The only answer was because of my heightened emotions. As a vampire, every single emotion was twice filled. I was never angry, I was enraged. When I was sad, it felt like the weight of the world was right on my shoulders and pushing me down on wet ground.

   I stopped talking and took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that decided to stray from my eyes. Damon was looking at me with wide eyes, brows furrowed, and neck completely covered in blood. I ran a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry," I breathed, shaking my head. "I'm sorry. I'm just gonna go." Before he could say anything, I ran out of the room.

   It was dark by the time I got home, and I didn't mind it one bit. My house was inviting, warm and with vibrant colours. The inside was painted a buttermilk colour, with other walls painted alabaster or a salt white that looked like a really pale brown. The furniture had a colour scheme of brown, black, and reds, which somehow fit well with the colours on the wall. Everything looked inviting, and I wanted it to feel that way each time I took a step inside. 

  I stopped when I heard the floor creaking upstairs. Slowly, I made my way up the stairs. My hand gripped the bannister tightly as I inhaled the scent around me. The house smelt of a peach candle that was burning in the kitchen, empty blood bags in the trash, and something else. The something else made me wary.

   A man appeared in front of me and grabbed my arm. He tried to push a syringe to my neck, but I pushed his hand away. The man pushed me against the wall and continued to try. Another man joined and held back my arms, and that allowed the other man to finally push the syringe to my neck. The vervain began to shut down my system, causing me to see them blurry.

   "Whew!" The man that pushed the syringe to my neck breathed. "Damn, you're strong. It took me the whole syringe." He grabbed me and dragged me down the stairs. 

   "Hello, Clara," Jules voice rang around me. "Nice to see you again."

   When I woke up, I was chained to a chair. There was a metal collar with wooden spikes around my neck. I looked to my right to see the man that pushed the syringe to my neck holding the ends of the two chains that were attached to the collar. "Morning sunshine!" he yelled with a smile as he walked in front of me. "I saw this movie once, some torture porn flick, anyway, they had this collar device that was really cool, so I just modified it with some wooden nails, and when I pull..." He pulled the ends of the chain. The wooden spikes pushed through every part of my neck, making me scream out in pain.

   "So, I hear you have the moonstone," Jules spoke from the corner.

   I let out a cough filled with blood, and then a laugh. "Oh, if you only knew the irony in this situation," I hummed, cranning my neck to look around. "Let me tell you how this is gonna go: you're gonna torture me, I don't talk, some will lose their hearts. Last time something like this happened, it was that hottie Mason."

   Jules inched closer to me. "This time, it'll be you." She looked at the man with the chain and nodded. The man pulled the chain, and the wooden nails pushed deeper into my neck. I screamed once again, gripping the arms of the chair tightly. 

   "You know the great thing about buckshot is?" Jules continued, leaning against a shotgun. "It scatters through the body, maximum damage." I feigned interest, rolling my eyes after. She pulled up the shotgun and pointed it at me. "Where's the moonstone?"

   "Get over it," I sighed, rolling my eyes. "You're never gonna get—" The man had pulled the chains once again, causing the wooden spikes to re-enter my neck. I tried not to scream, so I groaned and held on to the chair tightly.

   "Are you going to talk?" Jules continued. When I said nothing, she decided to pull the trigger on the shotgun. Two shells, both of them on my stomach and chest. I screamed as the pain began to spread from those regions to the rest of my body. Those shells were filled with wood and vervain, along other kinds of chemicals. The wood and vervain began to spread around my system fast.

   "Are you going to talk?" the man holding the chains repeated.

   I spat at him, blood and saliva decorating his cheek. "Bite me," I panted.

   "Well..." He pulled the chains once again. I screamed even louder. My breath came in ragged with the pain that consumed every inch of me. I had never felt so much torture in my life, and that was when I began to think that returning to Mystic Falls was a mistake. I should had never returned. What was so good about home when everything I loved existed no more? My parents and siblings were dead, my friends were dead, the house I was born and raised in was in ruins, and the man I loved was not the same. Mystic Falls was no longer home, it was just a town filled with memories. 

   Jules strutted over to me and plunged a stake on my hand, making me scream. The blood pooled around my hand and fell to the floor in gentle drops. It stained the carpet and the wood under it. Look at me, I thought. I'm being slowly killed and I'm worrying about the carpet.

   "Where is the moonstone?" Jules repeated.

   "You looking for this?" A new voice joined the party. I averted my eyes away from the wolves and turned to the entrance of the house, seeing both Elijah and Damon. Elijah was standing straight, with his normal regal posture and the moonstone in his hand. Damon, on the other hand, was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a smirk decorating his lips.

   Elijah walked towards the table that was between the sofas and laid the moonstone on it. He backed away. "Go ahead," he said. "Take it." One of the men used his speed to rush towards the stone, but Elijah being quicker, plunged his hand into the man's chest and ripped out his heart. Two other wolves sped towards Elijah, but Damon stepped in and took care of one while Elijah took care of the other.

   Jules sped out of the house, leaving behind the man that still held on to the chains. Elijah slowly walked to him. The man crouched on the floor and pulled his jacket over his face in fear. Elijah pulled him up. "What about you, sweetheart? Hmm?" he asked, taunting. "You want to take a shot? Yes? Yes? No? Where's the girl?"

   "I don't know," Damon responded, coming to me.

   "It really doesn't matter," Elijah hummed. After a few seconds, he punched the man unconscious.  He came over to me and removed the chains that were holding me down with ease. "So, you realize this is the third time I've save your life now?" he asked, dropping the chains to the floor.

   "And I continue to thank you, just like every other time," I moaned in pain, glancing from the ground to him. "Thank you, Elijah." He didn't respond. Instead, he turned around, grabbed the moonstone, and walked out of the house. 

   Damon came to me, and slowly pulled the collar open. As he did, I groaned in pain. The ends of the spikes were still deep in my neck, and the obvious pain was still there. He laid his hands on my cheek and made me look at him. "You okay?" he asked as he pulled out the stake on my hand.

   "I just got stabbed in the neck," I quoted him, smirking. "What do you think?"

   "I think you are very stupid," he reckoned, giving me a small smile. "You're really, really stupid, Clara."

   "Yeah," I agreed. "You bring out the stupid in me."

   "I must be a very bad influence on you," he chuckled, shaking his head.

   "You always were," I sniffed. "You were always a terrible influence, Damon."

   He kept his eyes on me for a while, his thumb running up and down my cheek. Then, he sighed and sat up. "Now is not the time to be so emotional," he said, sounding like his usual self. "You need to heal those wounds and clean yourself up."

   I tried to stand, but the vervain in my system was too much. Before I fell, he caught me. His chest was warm for someone that was dead, and his heart was unusually loud as my ear was pressed slightly over it. "How did you know?" I silently asked, refering to Jules and her pack. 

   "I had a hunch," he shrugged. "You took my fault for killing Mason, so it was only time till they enacted their revenge. Didn't know it would be this quick, though. And this messy." He made a face as he looked around.

   "Why was Elijah with you?" I continued to question him as he helped me up the stairs.

   "He did say that I have to keep you alive," he commented with a shrug of his shoulders. "So, I did as he said."

   "I can keep myself alive, Damon," I groaned, rolling my eyes. My groan was mostly because of the pain, not because I was annoyed. 

   "According to what just happened, you need some help," he stated.

   "Yeah, whatever," I breathed, taking a seat on the bed. "Can you get me a blood bag from the fridge, please?" 

   "Yeah, sure," he said as he walked out. He came back a few seconds later with a blood bag in hand. Before giving it to me, he opened it. 

   "Thanks," I hummed as I pushed the tube to my lips. The immediate taste of the blood made me feel warm. Tangy. Metallic. Sweet. It was as if I had not feed for months and this small bag was my saviour.

   "I brought another one," Damon said, pulling out a blood bag from his back."Thought you needed more than just one."

   I nodded and continued to slurp the first bag. Once I finished, and I had regained some strength back, I took it upon myself to pull out the bullets Jules shot to my chest. I dug my fingers inside my skin, grinding my teeth as they pushed through in order to take hold of the bullet. When I finally found the pieces, I slowly pulled them out with small whimpers escaping my lips. "Jesus!" I hissed, throwing the shells to the floor. "I feel like I have splinters all inside me!" 

   "Take it easy," Damon sighed, handing me the other blood bag. As I slurped that one, he stared at me. He didn't look disgusted, he looked confused and intrigued. "Do you feel better now?"

   I nodded and pulled the tube away from my mouth. "Much," I breathed, taking a deep breath. "I feel much better. Thanks, Damon." 

   "I do have a knack for making people feel better," he smirked, wiggling his brows.

   "Yeah, well, you weren't that great," I teased, standing up.

   I felt his presence behind me. When I turned, he pushed me against the wall, his hand resting right by my face. "Hmm, you sure about that?"

   "Positive," I smirked, licking my top lip.

   "Do you need a replay?" he teased, sliding his hand down my waist.

   "You're with Andie Star," I said, pushing him away. 

   Damon stopped me by grabbing my wrist and pushing my arm over my head. There was a teasing smile around his lips. "You know how I like my blood warm," he said, shrugging. "And she's a good friend and lover. And, she helps us with that human crap."

   "So what am I?" I asked, raising a brow. "A good friend? A good lover?"

   He brushed his lips against mine. "You're a good friend," he agreed. "A mighty good lover... A good memory that I both wish to forget and continue."

   His lips were so close to mine that I could almost taste him. I craved him like fresh air and sunlight. His touch brought fire to my skin, a harsh feeling that was only felt when he touched me. Oh, god, I wanted him. But, I was supposed to hate him. I was supposed to stay away from him, so why did I let him affect me so?

   I pushed Damon away and smiled. "No," I breathed. "If you want a lover go to Andie Star, okay?" Without a response, I marched to the bathroom.

   Mystic Falls was no longer home, only a town filled with memories. But, these memories were both wonderful and horrid. Maybe the ones in which Damon were in were included in both piles, and I minded a lot. Because in my head there were two of him, one was good and the other was bad.