Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
☆═━ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 ━═☆
There are two types of people in the world: those who prefer to be sad among others, and those who prefer to be sad alone. Charlotte preferred the latter, she didn't remotely like being alone but she despised making people sad about something they can't change. She felt guilty when someone felt bad for her. As if they didn't have their own problems to be sad about.
There had only ever been two exceptions to that rule of hers; Stefan Salvatore and he didn't treat that title, as an exception, very well and Paulina Gilbert, whom Charlotte knew was dead by now and sometimes found herself crying at night, just missing her friend and having nothing to do about that.
Of course, helping Caroline adjust to her new life, trying to solve the Lockwood family's dilemma, and trying to help her nieces cope with the loss of a great grandmother was distracting but how could she ever find the shoulder to cry on when everyone considers her just that?
Charlotte shook her head, marking a wrong at Elena's answer, "Nope to that, too. It's a cubic root not square...just doing the whole equation this way will have you lose a lot of marks."
Elena picked up one a fry from the plate of fries she was sharing with Charlotte and leaned back in her chair, "I am not getting this. I can't concentrate. How did you even understand all of this stuff?"
"My family was in charge of building homes back in 1861. They had to know the exact amount of things they will use, surface areas, measurements, all of that," Charlotte explained, opening her notebook to look over the equation again, "Of course, Mathematics had evolved from there but I am catching up good."
"Mhm," Elena hummed, nodding but before she could say anything else, Damon suddenly appeared, sitting on a chair beside them. Elena was momentarily startled as Charlotte mentally did a happy dance in her head for she didn't get as shaken up as last time.
"What do you want?"
"So, this is where you spend your time when you're not stabbing people in the back," Damon trailed off, going to pick up one of Charlotte's highlighters before she swatted his hand away, "Ouch, I thought we were friends."
"We are not," Charlotte retorted, shaking her head at him, "You forced me to forgive you, it's not exactly a friendly act."
