the boarding house was too quiet at 2:00 am, the kind of heavy silence that usually meant damon was either buried in a bottle of bourbon or up to something that would make stefan’s forehead wrinkle in professional concern. you padded down the hallway, the hardwood cool beneath your feet, heading toward the library in search of a book to quiet your own racing thoughts.

inside, the fireplace was nothing but glowing embers and soft, dying pops of wood. damon was slumped in his leather armchair, a crystal glass dangling dangerously from his fingertips. he wasn't drinking, though. he was just staring into the ashes, his electric blue eyes looking strangely dimmed in the shadows.

you hovered in the doorway for a moment, the weight of his presence pulling at you. you knew he knew you were there, vampire hearing was a curse for anyone trying to be stealthy, but he didn't move.

"you're quiet tonight. it's unsettling," you murmured, finally stepping into the room.

damon didn't look up immediately. he just let out a dry, breathy chuckle that didn't reach his eyes. "i'm practicing my 'brooding hero' look. elijah’s got a head start on me by about nine hundred years."

you crossed the room, the familiar scent of expensive leather and aged whiskey wrapping around you. you leaned against the edge of the mahogany desk, looking down at him. "you don't have to compete with him, damon."

at that, his head snapped up. the smirking mask he usually wore was nowhere to be found, replaced by a raw, jagged vulnerability that made your breath hitch. he set the glass down on the side table with a sharp clack and stood up, invading your space until you could feel the heat radiating off him. his gaze traveled over you, slow and intentional, before settling back on your face.

"don't i?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous velvet. "because every time he speaks, you look at him like he’s the answer to a question i’m too scared to ask."