She looks back, startled, one leg still over the window. Her expression flits from shock, to annoyance to resentment, till it very definitely comes to rest on ‘who the fuck do you think you are.'
She slowly slides her leg back, turning to face him, hands over chest, mirroring his pose, “are you stalking me?”
He shrugs, because duh, “I prefer the term
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because duh
is totally something Damon said in a fic of mine once. And I love that--I love that he says some of the same things in your head that he says in mine.
♥!
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On the other hand, this is one of my favorite pieces that I've written. :D
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