The dinner announcement came as something utterly unexpected. Rather than Harrington's excited tones, the calm accented voice of the General drifted through the intercom speakers
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So, second question: why him? Did he just draw the short straw or was there an actual logic to this? He'd like to know who else got forcibly volunteered. It better not be Elena. Or Stefan. Since his brother had decided to join Elena in bed last night instead of feeding, skipping out on one more night would be...problematic. Most importantly, it would be problematic for Damon.
Dammit, he couldn't believe that'd just happened. It was a little pathetic and a lot insulting.
Damon's attention returned to Klavier only when the man started forward. There was a beat, but he took the napkin. What should've healed a minute ago was only just starting to stop bleeding. If he was supposed to find Klavier's concern and outrage on his behalf somewhat heartwarming, that didn't happen. He pursed his lips and glanced up out of the corner of his eye as he tugged his sleeve back down.
"Never better. Don't worry." He slid off the desk, bumping the chair into it with a bang as he did. "I'll let you know if I'm about to keel over so you can step out of the way." He paused. "You? I hope you didn't sprain anything there."
To anyone who wanted to believe that was a genuine remark, it might've just scraped by as such. With his back turned, it was hard to see the smile playing on his lips as he discarded most of his uniform on the bed, leaving just his pants and shirt, untucked. He sat down on the edge of the mattress. Like last night, compensation had been raised, and also like last night, Damon took that at face value about as much as he took anything at face value. Which was to say, not at all.
But he was still interested in what their version of compensation consisted of. And what the damn drug was supposed to do. Blame it on morbid curiosity. There were plenty of things he didn't appreciate and being in the dark was one of them.
Dammit, he couldn't believe that'd just happened. It was a little pathetic and a lot insulting.
Damon's attention returned to Klavier only when the man started forward. There was a beat, but he took the napkin. What should've healed a minute ago was only just starting to stop bleeding. If he was supposed to find Klavier's concern and outrage on his behalf somewhat heartwarming, that didn't happen. He pursed his lips and glanced up out of the corner of his eye as he tugged his sleeve back down.
"Never better. Don't worry." He slid off the desk, bumping the chair into it with a bang as he did. "I'll let you know if I'm about to keel over so you can step out of the way." He paused. "You? I hope you didn't sprain anything there."
To anyone who wanted to believe that was a genuine remark, it might've just scraped by as such. With his back turned, it was hard to see the smile playing on his lips as he discarded most of his uniform on the bed, leaving just his pants and shirt, untucked. He sat down on the edge of the mattress. Like last night, compensation had been raised, and also like last night, Damon took that at face value about as much as he took anything at face value. Which was to say, not at all.
But he was still interested in what their version of compensation consisted of. And what the damn drug was supposed to do. Blame it on morbid curiosity. There were plenty of things he didn't appreciate and being in the dark was one of them.
Figuratively speaking.
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