Damon was sat alone at the bar at Mystic Grill, the local bar and grill he'd been frequenting since his return to Mystic falls (caused by his brother, way back when ~a few months ago~ before he even met you). He was drinking. Partially because you made him angry. The other part was because he felt bad for making you make him angry, even though he usually didn't let himself get distracted by a human such as yourself. But this happened every day, and you always apologized, even if you weren't the one who started it. When he heard your footsteps approaching him, he could feel your presence sit on the barstool to the right of him.

"What do you want?" He asked, bothered that you'd came to speak to him so soon. He didn't like your voice, your face, and most certainly not that obviously fake smile on your face that never seemed to leave.