30: A Brother's Thought

27.5K 820 462
                                    

Mystic Falls, Virginia
1863

    My mother, Margaret Forbes, was the woman I admired the most in the world. She had five children, yet she still looked the same as she did when she was twenty. Her blond hair was lighter, with a few strands of silver combined with the gold. Her eyes, soft and blue, reminded me of the sky early in the afternoon, where the sky faded from the lightest colour to a deep blue. Her eyes were big and soft, warm, full of care and love wherever she looked at. 

   My siblings had the same eyes, beautiful. Frances, Charlotte, and Abraham had blue eyes that were very similar to those of my mother's. They were deep, beautiful, and held the ocean in them. Thomas, the youngest, had beautiful brown eyes. They were rich, like new boughs of the trees, free of moth, bright, youthful. Thomas' eyes were like sunshine shining through my father's whiskey.

   My eyes, unlike the rest of my siblings, were green. They weren't a spring-like green, like the green that filled the trees after a long and dead winter. They weren't beautiful, they weren't filled with warmth or anything that resembled the beauty in the eyes of my family. My eyes were full, like the green just before the leaves faded into a dead brown. They were a hideous muddy green, like the dirt on the street right after it rains and everyone steps on it.

   Whenever someone would comment on my eyes and say they were beautiful, I would shake my head, give them a gentle smile, and tell them that they were dirty. Damon Salvatore, the man I loved the most in the world, would laugh and say, "No, they're not." and continue with out walk. But, then, there was his younger brother, Stefan, who would say the complete opposite. He would take my hand, look straight into my eyes, and softly say, "You know Mrs. Whittle's cat? The grey one with the beautiful green eyes that everyone loves, the ones you admire and call beautiful? Clara, your eyes are just as beautiful as Mrs. Whittle's grey cat. They're rich, and beautiful, and they hold stars in them."

   "My eyes are pond scum," I would say as I made a face.

   He would throw his head back and laugh, and shake his head, and then look into my eyes once again, and say, softer this time, "The colour of carrot tops."

   "What?"

   "The green of the first spring leaves on plum trees, mossy green speckled with the colour of pecan shell," he would smile. "As green as summertime water trough."

   I pulled my hand away from his hold and covered my face, hiding both my smile and my flushing cheeks. "Stefan..." I groaned, shaking my head. The heat began at the back of my neck, slowly spreading up to my cheeks and behind my ears.

   "Hey!" Damon cut in with a laugh, laying his arm around my shoulders. "What are you doing wooing my fiancée, Stefan?"

   "Was I wooing here?" he asked. He smirked, and looked as if he knew what he was doing. "I wasn't aware that I was."

   "Yes, you were!" Damon laughed. He pushed his brother lightly. Stefan stared at him for several seconds, a smile of disbelief in his lips. He pushed him back. The brothers pushed each other with laughter echoing around us, joy filling their bellies. 

   "Now, come on, boys!" I cut in, giving the boys a small smile as I laid my hands on my hips. "Is that any way to fight when one of you is leaving for war?" My smile died down, until it faded into a pout. The brothers stopped fighting, their smiles also dying down.

Bad Blood || The Vampire Diaries [1]Where stories live. Discover now