𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘝𝘐𝘐𝘐

10.4K 262 106
                                    





☆═━┈┈┈┈┈┈┈━═☆

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

☆═━┈┈┈┈┈┈┈━═☆

Eᗩᖇ OT OE

"There is a nobility in compassion, a beauty in empathy and a grace in forgiveness."

( - John Connolly)






Closing the door behind him, Damon started to lead his hunter friend to the parlor and he stopped to stand next to the table. "So, John Gilbert gave me this to kill Elijah." He told and unrolled the fabric that covered a dagger.

"Said you have to dip the dagger in the remains of an old white ash tree that dates back to the Originals, if there's any truth in that." He continued and handed the weapon to Alaric.

"So you think it's a setup?" The hunter asked after he sat down on a lounge chair.s

"It could be. Guy's a weasel. Wouldn't put anything past him." Damon replied and turned around to walk towards the alcohol bottles who settled upon the table.

"What are you up to today, Mr. Saltzman?" He casually asked.

"Well, Jenna and I were supposed to go to her family's lake house, but somehow, we both got roped into doing this Historical Society thing at the Lockwoods," Alaric answered as he got up and walked to stand next to Damon.

"Oh, where Elijah's the guest of honor." The vampire grinned in satisfaction.

"By the way, why did I found out this creepy girl from the bar was your ex from Elena?" Alaric furrowed his brows and said.

Damon snorted and rolled his eyes. "She's not my ex."

"So?" Alaric urged his friend to extend.

"So," Damon inhaled deeply and turned his head to look at him, "We have no reason to talk about it."

"And you haven't thought to mention she's also Elijah's twin sister or just in general, that he has one?!" Alaric insisted.

"Well, now you know." Damon sarcastically commented, pouring drinks for both of them.

"Tell me you're not gonna kill him at the tea party." Alaric sighed in defeat.

"No. That would be stupid." Damon dramatically said, receiving a head tilt and a skeptical look from his friend.

𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖗  𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖙  𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗 ↬  𝗗. 𝗦𝗮𝗹𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗲 [1]Where stories live. Discover now