❝can't take my eyes off of you.❞
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

DAMON SWINGS THE DOOR OPEN WITH A CURIOUS LOOK ON HIS FACE THAT DEEPENS WHEN HE SEES CHARLOTTE AND CORY. Charlotte forces a smile as he steps back and pushes Cory through the doorway, making the younger boy shoot her a glare over his shoulder.

"Hey, Damon, what's up? Oh, nothing much? Well then let me tell you about my night– is Stefan here?" Charlotte turns towards him as he shuts the front door behind them, seeing the shake of his head in answer. "Great, well, I got into a screaming match with Elena earlier and told her that I don't care about Isobel, or about the fact that you may or may not have killed her, and then I called her an immature, naive child who blindly follows Stefan's every word."

Damon's eyes widen and she misses the agreeing nod of shock from Cory behind her.

"Then I find out that my lovely friend here," She gestures behind her to the boy in question. "Has known about vampires– specifically you and Stefan– this whole time. And now we're here, because honestly, if I had to spend another second in that house I was going to scream and put my head through a wall."

There's a moment of silence before Damon clears his throat, looking at the two. "You wanna get drunk?"

Cory claps his hands together and grins widely. "I knew you'd give me a reason to like you one day," He grabs Charlotte's arm, tugging her along with him as Damon passes by with a roll of his eyes. "See, Charlie, I told you it was a great idea to come here."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I just... I don't understand why she doesn't listen to me," Charlotte groans from where she's laid across Damon's desk, a glass of bitter whiskey resting on her stomach. "You guys agree that I'm totally right about stuff, like, all the time, right?"

The two boys nod, sitting in similar positions in the two seats in front of the desk. "So, why doesn't Elena listen to me? I mean, I know I joke about it all the time, but did I really absorb all of her common sense in the womb?"

Cory snorts, his eyes low with his buzz as he points a finger at her. "Look, you were born first, that makes you the superior twin in my opinion. There's gotta be, like, scientific evidence to prove it."

Damon hums, taking a drink of his whiskey and smacking his lips together. "Younger siblings are always more dramatic, it's an attention thing. I mean, he may not seem it, but Stefan's dramatic as hell. It's super annoying,"

Charlotte scoffs, allowing a rare bitterness to her voice in her drunken haze. "Well, they're just a match made in annoying heaven then, aren't they?"

"I'm so hungry," Cory groans suddenly, throwing his head back as he finishes the last of his drink finally. "Do you have any real food here, or is it all just blood bags and rotting corpses."

"Why would we keep a rotting corpse," Damon scrunches his face up, shaking his head at Cory. "I don't know, you'll have to fend for yourself if you want something."

"Charlie!"

Charlotte jumps slightly at his raised voice, sending him a lazy glare from atop the desk. "Inside voices, Cory. What do you want?"

"I want you to come to the kitchen with me and find something to eat," He stands from the chair, pulling at her arm where it's hanging off the side of the desk. "Let's go, come on. Chef Charlie, it's time to clock in."

Charlotte grunts lowly but lets Cory pull her up to her feet, stabilizing her when she wobbles slightly, the effects of her drinks hitting her stronger as she gets upright. "I don't know how responsible a drunk chef is,"

"It's super responsible, don't even worry about it," Cory sniffs, taking her hand to pull her past Damon, who seems content to watch them go with a vague smile on his face. "I want something good."

They walk into the kitchen of the boarding house, a first for them both, and Charlotte looks around as Cory begins pilfering through the cabinets. Her eyes roam the high ceilings and wood beams, the dark furniture and brick walls catching her eyes.

"Charlie!"

"Jesus, stop doing that!" She jumps again, snapping out of her daze as she turns to look at a grinning Cory. "Did you find something you want?"

He nods, pushing a box towards her across the counter. "Pancakes."

"You want pancakes?"

He nods again.

"Fine," She sniffs, snapping her fingers at me. "Get me what I need. And find some music, I need music."

"Right, okay," Cory nods, looking determined as he jumps around the kitchen, grabbing the few things he needs to make the boxed pancake mix, and once he's got them piled up before her, toppings included, he runs from the room in search of music.

Minutes pass as Charlotte mindlessly mixes the pancake batter and pouring one onto the pan she'd gotten out, and Cory finally reappears with a record player sitting on a table that he rolls into the kitchen.

"Cory, where did you find that?"

"A room," He shrugs, flicking through the stack of records on the table beside the player. "Oh, we're so listening to this. Vintage house, vintage music."

It only takes a second for the music to start playing, and Charlotte huffs a laugh, flipping the first pancake over to reveal the golden brown color to it.

The two quietly bob to the music as Charlotte cooks the first few pancakes, but their singing quickly grows louder and louder until a voice interrupts them.

"What's going on in here?"

Charlotte looks up, a grin growing on her face at Damon's arrival. "Come on, dance with us!" She hurries over to him, Cory quickly taking her position at the stove as she grabs Damon's wrists, tugging him further into the kitchen. "I love this song,"

Cory points the spatula at her from the stove as the music begins to crescendo. "You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you!"

The beat rises and grows and Charlotte squeals in surprise as Damon suddenly wraps his arms around her waist, spinning her around as Frankie Valli croons out the classic lyrics.

"I love you baby, and if it's quite alright I need you baby,"

He spins Charlotte around and she clutches onto him, laughter bursting through her frail attempts at singing as the song goes on. "I love you, baby, trust in me when I say–"

"Pancake!"

Charlotte gasps and taps at Damon's hands, making him gently set her down and let her hurry back over to the counter. She takes a moment, grabbing the toppings Cory had gotten out, and begins decorating the pancake, slowly lifting the plate up for Damon to see.

"Look!" She holds up the plate she'd been working on, displaying the large pancake there. "I made you a pancake."

Damon snorts at the sight of the fang-shaped whipped cream and blueberry eyes, shaking his head as he walks up to her. "Oh, really?"

"It's a vampire pancake," She shakes the plate a bit, as if he hasn't already seen them. "Isn't it cute?"

"Oh, yeah," He nods, eyes staying on her as he leans forward. "Super cute."

He swipes a finger through the whipped cream and smears it across her nose, making her yelp in surprise. Her dark eyes go cross as she tries to spot the offensive topping on her face, huffing petulantly. "Damon!"

"Now it's a Charlotte pancake," He smirks, taking the plate from her with a smug wink. "Even cuter."

Charlotte rolls her eyes but flushes nonetheless, bringing the hem of her shirt up to wipe her nose off as he takes the plate and rounds the bar.

The three of them eat their pancakes in relative silence, with Frankie Valli's voice filling the air around them, and eventually there's a sink full of dishes and remnants of pancake batter on the counters. Charlotte offers to clean it up, but Damon beckons them out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Cory flops down on a couch, legs stretching the length of it and earning a shared look with Damon and quiet snort of laughter from Charlotte. She leaves Damon's side as Cory settles in, and walks along the wall-to-ceiling bookshelves that span the perimeter of the room, running her fingers along the spines of the books.

"If you can remember," Charlotte starts off, glancing over her shoulder to search for Damon across the room and almost instantly finding him looking at her already. "What is the oldest book on these shelves?"

Damon heaves a sigh, eyes narrowing in thought. "I'd say from 1864, but some of my dad's books are still somewhere mixed into the mess it's become, so late 1700s and early 1800s?"

He crosses the room in a few steps, saddling up to the shelf beside her. "That is, if we're not counting collectors items and first editions."

"I know that you're bragging on purpose, but the thought of that is so cool that I'm letting you get away with it this time,"

Damon chuckles, low and quiet, and the atmosphere between them shifts slightly as he leans a shoulder on the sliver of wall in between shelves while Charlie lingers in his space, eyes roaming the faded book titles and various knick knacks placed oddly about the shelves, propping books up.

"He's not gonna be alive tomorrow, is he?"

Charlotte glances in Cory's direction where he's asleep on the couch, a feat he accomplished in a matter of minutes in his drunken state. She huffs a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she looks back at Damon. "No, not in the slightest. We'll probably just skip school, it's already almost 4 in the morning, so,"

"How rebellious of you, sunshine,"

She pushes at his stomach indignantly, and he catches her wrist in his grip, instantly making her shift her full attention to him.

"Are you alright?"

Charlotte blinks, not having expected the question, and her brows pull together, making a small wrinkle form between them on her forehead. "I... don't know. Elena and I have never fought like that."

"You're both stressed right now," He clears his throat slightly, looking nervous only for a split second before it's pushed away. "Me and Stefan aren't exactly making anything easier."

"Yeah," She concedes, feeling his thumb drag over her pulse point in a soft, repetitive gesture that makes her realize how exhausted she is finally. "But if Elena can forgive Stefan for all that he's done to her in the short time they've been together, I don't know why she can't even try to forgive you. And she's so defensive over Isobel, like the woman isn't a literal stranger who never wanted anything to do with us. It's just– frustrating. She's stubborn, and I just–"

"Hey," He pulls at her again, lightly enough to stop her from getting too wound up again. "You guys will figure it out. You always do, right? It's your weird twin thing, or whatever."

Charlotte lets out a heavy sigh, a small, tired smile twitching at her lips as she nods. "You're right. I think we both just need some time. Maybe things won't be so crazy, and we'll actually be able to breathe for a few minutes,"

Damon smirks, shrugging a shoulder lazily. "Don't jinx us, sunshine. There's already enough messes to clean up here."

She blinks slowly, eyes feeling heavy as he continues his methodical touch on her skin, and she feels a yawn burst from her lips. She turns away from him, looking at the books again. "I'm totally stealing some of these from you, I hope you know that."

"I figured you would,"

"Kind of you to just let it happen," She hums, leaning more of her weight into him as her eyes grow heavier and heavier. "Resistance is futile."

Damon lets out a quiet laugh that sounds almost disbelieving as he shifts his hold on Charlotte's wrist to let her basically fall into his chest. "You are such a nerd,"

"'M not," She mutters, a hand twisting into the fabric of his shirt tightly. "You love it. I'm your best friend, you have to love it."

He's silent for a moment, perhaps a moment too long, because when he glances down at the girl resting on his chest, her eyes are shut and her breathing has steadied out. He rolls his eyes with nothing but fondness and he taps her back lightly, just to stir her.

"Come on, sunshine, it's bedtime," He moves, sliding an arm beneath her knees as he lifts her up, and she moves seamlessly with him, dropping her head back to his chest as soon as he's got a good grip on her.

He carries her out of the living room and up the stairs to his room as gently as possible, walking her over to his bed where he sets her down with her head sinking into a pillow. She lets out a soft sigh, settling in and tucking her knees up closer to her chest, and Damon waits for her to still again before he grabs a blanket and drapes it over her.

He reaches over and flicks his nightstand light off, dimming the room instantly. Without thought, Damon reaches up to brush a stray curl off of her cheek and she moves into the touch, smiling sleepily.

"Night, Damon,"

He stops, hand pulling away from her as he looks down at her profile, the features so familiar, but so entirely different in meaning that he can't even fathom thinking about it. Smiling a bit pitifully to himself, he pats her leg and steps away. "Goodnight, Charlotte."

Damon turns the rest of the lights off and then makes his way back downstairs, making a brief stop in the living room to throw a blanket over Cory and turn off the lights in there before he grabs what's left of the bourbon and slides into his solitude study.

He pours himself a glass of bourbon and downs it in one gulp, setting the glass back on the desk with a dull thump.

With a quick glance, he surrenders the glass and just brings the whole bottle up to his mouth on the next swig, reveling in the burn that lingers in his throat.

He heaves out a sigh, eyes falling shut as he sits back in the chair at his desk, head tilted up towards the ceiling. "I am such an idiot."

No one responds, but he figures if anyone had heard him, they'd probably agree. Especially Cory.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

author's note; i am soooo normal about them (lying)

edited and published; 1.26.23.

- liz