The Howling ▹ Klaus Mikaelson

06.

THE HOWLING.

     06. CHAPTER SIX : another bundle of tantrums. (n.e)

     Klaus was alive. Rowan was annoyed. Tyler was off. Elena was paranoid. Damon was drinking. Stefan was missing. Bonnie was dreaming. Caroline was sulking. Alaric was grading. Jeremy was misbehaving. It was basically the norm in Mystic Falls.

"What is with you people and school work?" Damon asked as he plopped down in front of Rowan. Her papers were splayed across the table, her book open, and her pencil scrawling messily across the paper.

"Some people actually have a future, Damon. Graduating, college, the whole shebang," she retorted, her tongue poking out of the side of mouth as she concentrated. "I don't have the ability to dilate my pupils and get whatever my heart, or whatever that dead thing is in your chest, desires."

Rowan's concentration was broken when Damon snatched the pencil from her hand, and broke it easily before shutting the book. "Come play darts with me," he said. Rowan sighed heavily and dug around in her bag.

"Only because you broke my last pencil," she muttered as she trudged behind him reluctantly after packing all of the papers in her bag. She took one of the awaiting chairs as Damon went first.

"Jeremy, the minute that you get this call me," Elena said into her phone from behind Rowan. "Unbelievable."

Damon turned to face her with a smirk. "You're feisty when you're mad."

"It's not that I'm mad, I'm just worried," Elena countered.

"Why?" Damon asked. "He lost his job at the Grill? I think he'll survive, Elena."

"He's spiraling. Ever since Bonnie broke up with him, he's moody, and he's not really talking to anyone."

"So," Rowan drawled out, earning Elena's attention. "Spoiler alert, he's a teenager."

"Who's seeing ghosts, and who's lost everyone he cares about," Elena told her as if it were obvious. Rowan shrugged.

"Not everyone," Damon said as he lined up the dart. "He still has you."

Rowan jumped up when he hit a bullseye, and walked up to gather the darts. "My turn."

"You okay?" Elena asked Damon as he leaned on a table, watching as Rowan hit the bullseye.

"What makes you think I'm not okay?" he countered.

"Well, you're day-drunk. It's not exactly your most attractive look," Elena chided.

Damon looked at her, smirking. "Oh, what is my most attractive look?"

Elena took a step back as Damon approached her. "I'm not saying you have a most attractive look, I'm just saying this is my least favorite one."

"Noted. I'll see if I can make any improvements," Damon told her.

Rowan threw another dart and cocked her head to the side. "My favorite would have to be when you were on your death bed. All pale and sexy. Brought out my Florence Nightingale fantasy," she mused, smirking at another bullseye.

She turned around and put the darts in Damon's hand. "Do try to not suck."

"Don't mind me," interrupted a smooth British accent. Rowan heard Elena suck in a breath as the turned to face him.