when the party's over | elena gilbert

20|MISS MYSTIC FALLS

Gemma frowns down at the small succulent she's holding in her hand, her eyebrows wrinkling as she gazes down at the dull plant. Her lips part in a frustrated exhale, her other hand gripping her cellphone tightly as her stare morphs into one of annoyance. "I don't like this," she speaks into the device.

"You've had her for an hour," Willow says in disbelief, her voice cracking in obvious irritation.

Gemma had given the blonde therapist a run for her money in the past few days. What with it not being safe to go in the woods, and Gemma's too short attention span— as Willow calls it— the two women have had more sessions in the past week than ever before.

"I don't have a green thumb," the Salvatore admits. "Plants don't like me."

"Plants don't have feelings!"

"Why would you say that?" Gemma pulls the plant to her chest as if it heard Willow. "That's very inconsiderate of you."

"I have a session in ten minutes, Gemma. I can't handle you right now."

"Handling me is your job."

"No, helping you handle yourself is my job."

"Tomato, tomato."

"Don't make me cancel your next session," Willow threatens. "You know I hate that saying."

"Why though?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Bye now."

Gemma opens her mouth to reply but instead hears the dial tone, signaling that Willow had indeed hung up to prepare for her next session. The female Salvatore thinks it's selfish, honestly. How dare her therapist therapy other people into getting better? How hero of the doctor.

"What are you doing?"

Gemma jolts in surprise, her expression contorting into a deep grimace whenever the plant almost tumbles out of her hand. She slips her phone into her back pocket and cradles the succulent with both hands, narrowing her eyes at her older brother. "What do you mean, what am I doing?"

"Someone's been ringing the bell for the past two minutes and you're standing in the middle of the foyer talking to a plant."

"I was talking to Willow," she mutters.

Damon makes a sound of approval before stalking toward the door and pulling it open, his shoulders stiffening. Gemma, curious about Damon's sudden tenseness, shuffles forward until she's directly behind him but still able to see over his shoulder.

"Oh," she mumbles.

"I suppose I should be grateful," the eldest Salvatore snides. "You learned how to use the bell."

"I'm here on behalf of my mother," Anna strolls in past Damon, her arm bumping into his.

"On behalf of or in spite of?"

"I'm sorry about what the other vampires did to Gemma and Stefan."

Gemma winces before clenching her jaw, staring down at the teenager with a stony expression. She knew Pearl and Anna didn't really have a part in what happened to her, but it still stung. What happened left another incident on the long list of reasons Gemma's screwed up in the head. The Salvatore wasn't quite ready to let it go yet.

"You're playing house with half a tomb of really pissed off vampires," Damon snaps. "What did you think was going to happen?"

"My mom is devastated; they tried to over throw her."