19: Mystic Falls, 1864 - Death Day

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Mystic Falls, Virginia
1864

   Inconsequent polite conversations, sparkling champagne in tall glasses, canapés that were more decorative than tasteful, and the soft sound of music. The instrument that stood out the most was the piano, its keys causing the glass in my hand to gently vibrate. Following that, it was the violin. Its strings made my heart flutter as the player pressed the strings and allowed the bow to carefully dance upon the strings between the bridge and the fingerboard. I watched in amazement, a small smile on my lips as the man kept his eyes close, the chords memorized like touch of a lover.

   "You're too intrigued," a soft voice whispered next to my ear. I turned my head to see who it was, and smiled at the owner.

   "You know my love for music," I told him, smiling. "I wish I could play as amazing as he does."

   "Well, maybe not the violin," he shrugged, letting out a gentle chuckle. "But, I have heard you play the piano. I'd say you're better than Mr. Martin there." He pointed at the man on the piano with his chin as a small smirk spreading around his lips.

   "Damon!" I pushed him gently, laughing. "He's the one that's teaching me to play, there is no way I could be better than him." I turned back to see Mr. Martin play, letting the smile stay on my lips. "After all, he's such a grand player. Apparently, he's going to New York to play for a French duchess."

   "Hmm," he hummed, tilting his head to the side. "I couldn't imagine him playing in front of such an audience. You, on the other hand, would be magnificent."

   "You're patronizing me," I giggled, playfully rolling my eyes. I bit my bottom lip and looked back at Mr. Martin, who finished his song. The people around us clapped as he stood and took a bow. I took a deep breath, and looked up at a clapping Damon. "I'll tell you what."

   "I have a feeling you're going to make this night quite interesting+, Miss Forbes," Damon said, stopping his clapping and glancing down at me. "Tell me, what do you have in mind?"

   "If I play a song here, you spend the night with me." I held my head high, smiling softly as butterflies fluttered around my stomach.

   Damon's lips spread into a smirk, one that teased and showed amusement. "Are you insinuating that you want to spend the night with me?" He took a deep breath and chuckled. "It surprises me that you're being so straightforward, Miss Forbes. You're usually quiet when it comes to these things."

   "I don't mean that!" I laughed, pushing him gently as the heat formed around my neck and cheeks. "I meant a romantic night at the quarry with a warm fire, a warm blanket, maybe a basket with food, and you and I." I glanced up at him, raising a brow with a grin.

   He was staring down at me, a small smile around his lips that was barely visible. With a deep breath escaping, he nodded. "Fine," he said. "We'll have a romantic picnic in the middle of the night at the quarry. But, may I remind you that it's very cold outside?"

   "There will be a fire," I countered with a small grin. "You won't be that cold. Don't act like a child, Damon."

   He laughed. "You're telling me not to act like a child?" He took my hand as he took a stand in front of me. "May I remind you that you're the one that whined when we were out last time, Clara? You were the one that continued to whine because it was cold, because a grasshopper jumped on your lap, and because a bug got caught on your hair."

   I made a face, pursing my lips slightly. "Hmm," I hummed as I drank the rest of my champagne. I placed the empty glass on the platter of a passing waiter. "I don't like the quarry that much, anyway."

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