My Love Affair With Damon - A Vampire Diaries Fan Fiction

Chapter Thirty-Seven - And So It Begins

"Lizzie?"

"Huh?"

"It's time to get up. If you want to go and watch the show, that is."

"Do I have to?"

"Do you want to watch vampire harlot get staked?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, you do have to go. I'm not filming it for you. You need to be there to witness the intense action. Come on. You know you want to."

"You sound like Keith Lemon."

"Who's he?"

"Nevermind."

"Seriously. Who is this 'Keith Lemon' guy? He sounds kind of kinky to me."

"He is kinky. He's a character on British television. Commonly known in England for his rather awful impressions of Irish people and the evolution known as motting."

"And what would 'motting' be?"

"Google it. YouTube it. Just don't make me explain it. It's too rude."

"I'll take your word for it."

I closed my eyes shut tightly. Damon's arms loosened around me.

"Come on,"he tried again. "Get up. I'll get you a glass of Scotch, then we can be out of here. Sound good to you?"

"It'll have to, won't it? I'm not going to get a say in the matter."

"No, you're most definitely not."

"Get on with your part of the deal. I'm bored, and I need a shower. I need to change into something warm. You got a hoodie I can borrow? Stefan's old clothes are getting a bit worn out. Plus, they're all so...chavvy. I feel like a hobo. Did Stefan used to dress like a hobo?"

Damon headed over to the set of drawers and opened the bottom one, pulling out a navy blue hoodie and a pair of jeans. He lobbed them at me, and I caught them just before they smacked into my head.

"Hoodie might be a bit big,"he shrugged. "Jeans will definitely be huge on you. I can get you a belt for those, if you need one. There are t-shirts in the middle left-hand drawer - take your pick. I don't wear them. Too...casual for me. I'm sure there are a pair of shoes your size somewhere in this house - Zach always had small feet. I'll be downstairs. Getting wasted."

I rolled my eyes, sighing deeply as I dumped the clothes on the bed. Damon left the room, so I began to undress as I wondered through to Damon's private bathroom. Lucky bugger. The amount of money his family had was unbelievable. God knows how they earned that much money when neither of the brothers held a job. I hated the thought of my boyfriend committing theft, yet I had to keep in mind that that was always a possibility. Crafty bastards. I'd have to receive lessons on the tricks of the trade.

Once all of my clothes had formed a pile by the door, I turned on the shower and bathed myself in the hot water. It streamed through my blonde curls and onto my shoulders, then dripping down my chest and continuing it's path south of my body until my feet were swamped with scalding liquid.

I washed my hair and scrubbed the dirt from my body. When I finally turned the shower off, the whole bathroom was misty with heavy steam. Sweat beaded on my soaked forehead.

I grabbed a towel from the rack and covered as much of my body as I could. The ends of my hair dripped water onto the floor, and my feet left footprints on the tiles. I looked back at the marks I'd left and laughed a tinkling laugh, then choked when I realised that my laughter couldn't be defined. I was really beginning to notice my transformation into a pathetic bitch.