Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
˖*°࿐chapter twenty eight. xxviii. LIFE GOES ON
———
janelle
My foot repeatedly tapped against the floorboard of the living room as I waited on the couch. My face showed clear signs of irritation and annoyance. If I have sit here for another hour, I think I'm going to scream.
The front door suddenly slammed, knocking me out of my thoughts. I didn't turn around; I just waited for my brother to enter the room.
"How was the rave?" I asked, hiding my disinterest on the actual topic.
"Oh, you know, loud, lame, rave-like," Stefan said as I brought myself up to my feet. "You looked like you were having a good time."
"Oh, I had a great time," I flashed a fake smile. "But, uh — is there anything I should know, or anything you'd like to talk about, bro-to-sis?"
"Where do we keep our weapons?" he ignored me.
I furrowed my eyebrows. "Pardon?"
"Crossbows, vervain grenades, all that hunter crap Jeremy was into." I shrugged my shoulders, pretending not to know where they were. "Ah, yes. The throne."
Stefan walked over to the chair and opened the hidden compartment full of weapons underneath the seat. He packed some bottles of vervain into a bag with his back facing me. My eyes shifted over to the syringe next to the couch, and I carefully watched Stefan. I flicked my wrist, aiming for Stefan's neck, but by the time I looked up, he had already caught it.
Stefan turned around and sighed, "Elena told on me. She's such a buzz-kill."
"And you're an idiot," I retorted, earning no expression from Stefan. "When I said to patch things up with your girlfriend, that didn't mean you could go all cuckoo-crazy like her."
"Who's to say I did this for Caroline?" he asked. "Maybe I did this for myself."
"It doesn't matter," I shook my head. "Now is not the time for a humanity flip, brother."
Stefan walked closer to me, not breaking eye contact. "You and Damon do yourselves a favor. Stay out my way today."
———
"What is he doing?" Elena questioned as she eyed her boyfriend, repeatedly hitting the leather couch with a poker.
"Looking for a healthy outlet to channel his rage," I replied as Damon swung the poker, knocking down the lamp, making Elena jumped. "He hasn't found it yet."
"Shouldn't you stop him," she suggested.
"Nah," I shook my head, "I always hated that lamp."
Damon chimed in on our conversation saying, "Stefan without his humanity is one artery away from Stefan the Ripper, and every day that goes by is one year of guilt waiting for him on the other side."
