There was some sort of running cliché that ran around in vampire fiction and movies where at least one vampire had to sit around brooding, raging against whatever fate had made of him. For all his admiration of Anne Rice, Damon had often wished someone would just stake Louis and put him out of his misery
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She saw him at a table with a bottle and the worry increased. Not knowing what to do, she finally took a seat across from him.
"If I get my own glass, will you share?"
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For all his bravado to Stefan, the implication that his baby brother would just have to learn to share, he really wasn't sure how things stood, actually, no. Especially given all of his...extracurricular activities. He'd kept it that way for just that reason.
"Technically, I could lose my job for that," he pointed out. "But if you're willing to risk it, why not?" Anyone who wanted to see her ID, he'd just compel into leaving them alone.
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She flagged down the waitress and was glad to see that it was someone that she didn't know well and ordered a soda. When the waitress left, she looked at Damon.
"Why do you think I would risk your job?"
That wasn't what she wanted to ask.
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He leaned over and poured a healthy dose of whiskey in her soda, just to be contrary.
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"I said, I have three people that I love here with me," she said, rolling her eyes. "Bonnie, you and now Stefan." She took another drink and shifted slightly. "I'm going to learn to shoot a gun."
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"Have you forgotten that we have so far managed to save you from...nothing?" he asked, though the words that followed the laugh were dark and bitter. "Who killed Katherine? You. What did I do against Klaus to save Vicki? To save Stefan? I was useless. Who saved him, saved all of us? You. I hardly think you're a liability, Elena."
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