Carter was awoken with a sharp ringing sensation echoing within her eardrums. Bright lights welcomed her eyes with a stinging that really didn't help improve her already thunderous headache. Her fiery hair was plastered against her face, sticking to her dry lips. A gasp heaved past her chapped lips, her body trembling against the cool sheets. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the light, she spotted Damon sitting beside her on the bed. She was surrounded by white sheets and white pillows, everything so clean. Including herself. "When I found you, I... I gave you a bath. You were barely awake," he told his girlfriend, reaching forward to smooth her tangled hair back. "I didn't know your hair was naturally curly, either. I like it."
She tried to smile, but her face hurt too much. She reached for her cheek, but Damon quickly caught her wrist. "You've got a pretty nasty bruise," he warned her. His fingers lightly ran along the inside of her wrist as she let it fall to her lap. She felt like crying again. "Damon.." Her throat felt raw. Maybe it was due to the screaming, or maybe it was because of her being tied to Matt. Either way, it hurt like hell. "Are you hungry? I can make breakfast." She nodded in response, taking his outstretched hand and he helped her out the warm bed.
She wiggled her toes at the cool feeling beneath her feet. She was dressed in one of his grey shirts, one side falling off her shoulder lazily, and a pair of his drawstring sweat pants. She laced her fingers with his, leaning into his warm body. "I missed you, you know," he told the girl, turning to face her. His lips pressed against her forehead gently, his hands sandwiching her face. "I..." Her voice cracked; she visibly winced at the pain in her throat. "I know," he hummed with a small smile. He rested his forehead against hers, their eyes closing as they sat in silence. Carter broke away first, letting out a soft sigh. With a jutt of her head, Damon began leading her out of his room and toward the staircase.
The two could hear giggling from the downstairs, and soft rock music playing in the background. She was hoping it wasn't him, but she knew it was. Stefan was accompanied by three women, a fourth and fifth one laying lifeless at the end of the steps. Carter held onto Damon's hand tighter, glaring at the shell of her once best friend. He held the spinner, crimson staining the white of a Twister game mat. "Uh oh, Alexandra, left hand, please," he taunted, holding out his palm. She gladly offered her wrist to him, in which he penetrated the smooth skin with his deadly fangs. "Hey, the two brunettes on the staircase owe me a Persian rug," Damon commented, causing the girl to redirect her glare to the back of his beautiful head.
