Unborn (Sequel to Loving Being Different)

Chapter 33; For The Child.

Stefan's P.O.V.-

"It's been a month," 

"I don't care."

"Damon, We need to go. Honestly, do you just want to act like she never existed."

Damon's head shot up as he sat up quickly in his bed, "Do you think there's a-"

"No, I don't think there's a way to erase memories of her." I interrupted before turning towards the mirror and straightening the tie I had on. "Well, I think I'd rather drowned in my own dispair than get out of this bed." He smirked sending me a glare.. 

"You can act badass all you want, I frankly don't care," I said poking my head out of the bathroom, Damon had stood up, and began pouring himself a glass of bourbon. The truth was I did care, the first week after Loralie's death, Damon wouldn't come out of his room. I had trouble sleeping because all I could hear was him throwing his room decor at the walls, and smashing glasses against the floor.

"But you're getting dressed, and going. I'm not going alone," I sad in a low voice, which caught his attention. He turned his gaze to me before setting the bottle down. He turned and leaned against his dresser and eyed me.

"Is that so, brother?"

"Yeah, it is. Loralie loved you, Damon. But I honestly am beginning to think she shouldn't have, You" I said, Damon eyed me, his smirk disappearing quickly. "I Loved her." His voice was cold, and emotionless. "Then act it," 

"That's not fair." He defended. "No, Damon..It is." I said walking towards him. By now I was inches from him, "This girl gave up her entire life for you, and this child. So for once, act like that means something to you." 

Damon's blue eyes had grown cold over the past month, but now they were icy. "I'll be downstairs." I said, breaking the silence before turning and walking out of the room.

Damon's P.O.V.-

We had been eyeing the service, which was quite large for a funeral from atop a grassy hill a distance from the site. I leaned my shoulder against a tree and crossed my arms as Stefan shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Why don't you go down there?" I asked, not taking my eyes off of the group of people below us. "We're practically wanted by them, Damon." He stressed, before letting a sigh slip out.

I raised an eyebrow and shrugged, "Has a nice ring to it." 

Slowly the group of people below began to break apart, and leave. "I'm gonna go,"

"Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out," I mumbled eyeing the grave as the last person left.

Take a glance behind me, I saw no one, and turned before making my way down to the grave.

As I neared the freshly placed gravestone, I read the writing outloud carved into the stone. 

'Loralie Faith Gilbert

Loving sister and friend, 

You will forever live on'

I laughed once, "Ironic" I mumbled. "Loving Sister, friend..and mother, I hear."

I turned quickly, my eyes falling on the familiar face, I hated seeing.

"Katherine," I said with a smirk, "Done terrorizing babies and come to ask for forgivness?"

She smirked, "Funny,"

"Well to late, hell already purchased your ticket." I said turning to gaze at the stone again.