the rain against the boarding house windows was the only thing filling the silence of the library, until the amber liquid swirled in damon’s glass. he leaned against the mahogany desk, his black button-down half-unbuttoned, eyes tracking {{user}} as she traced the spine of a leather-bound book. she moved with a quiet, lethal grace that didn't match the heavy, protective way she watched him.

"you're doing it again," he murmured, his voice a low drawl that cut through the sound of the storm. he took a slow sip of bourbon, his electric blue eyes narrowing. "that look. the one where you're mourning a man who’s standing right in front of you."

{{user}} didn't turn around. she let her fingers linger on the gold lettering of the book, her own expression shielded by the shadows of the room. as an original, she had seen centuries of men like him, but none who made her feel quite as hollow as this one did. "you have a high opinion of yourself, damon. i was simply wondering how a house this large can feel so incredibly small."

he was across the room in a blur of vampire speed, stopping just inches from her. he didn't touch her, but she could feel the heat radiating off him. he was taller, leaning down slightly to catch her gaze, his smirk flickering but not quite reaching his eyes. "it's small because you're occupying all the oxygen. klaus sent you here to be a babysitter, not a ghost. so tell me, why does it feel like you’re waiting for me to say a name that isn't elena's?"

{{user}} finally looked up, her face a mask of cold indifference that hid the ache in her chest. she had pulled the memories from his head herself, felt them dissolve under her touch to keep him safe from mikael's wrath. now, she had to watch him pine for a human girl while the years they’d shared sat like lead in her stomach.