[ other people have to eat this food, okay. if it was just for her, she'd maybe consider it. (actually, she wouldn't, but she can pretend just to be contrary.) ]
Is your new superpower annoyingly excessive chewing or something?
Someone's testy. ( someone else purposely fanned those flames. damon doesn't buy into the superpower crap. his certainly haven't manifested in any way he can differentiate from normal. he pushes away from the stove, leaning in like it's a secret. ) I'd add more parsley but I'm kind of an herb whore.
( he shrugs. )
It's good. And if I add in surprisingly, it's because they use crumbled crickets like cracked pepper around here, not because I think you can't cook. ( he can be backhandedly nice, ok. )
[ it is sheer dumbfounded surprise (and only surprise) at his lowkey compliment that prevents caroline from tacking on a snippy you're kind of a regular whore, too.
instead, she just blinks at him for a few moments, and then arches onto her tiptoes to grab a can of dried parsley out of the pantry, shoving it into his open hands a second later. ]
My dad hated parsley. He said it tasted like soap.
[ actually, that's cilantro, but same difference. ]
Your dad, like most fathers, sounds like a knob.( his tone is free of scorn but there's more beneath that than the basic kneejerk reaction to parents. his smile is inviting, his words aren't. damon doesn't add too much of it, assuming that if he felt that way, caroline must not care much for the flavor herself. he doesn't really second guess the amount ( he's made sauce before ) and stirs the parsley in. ) There. Now you should be able to feed the masses.
( she could have done that without him. )
I don't know why you would want to ( they won't say thank you ) but you should be all set to play house.
[ absent fathers are what they are. caroline's mostly over her dad's disappearing act by now — or, at least, she's told herself she is. as a result, she doesn't argue damon's point (or the amount of herb sprinkles he stirs in). ]
I'm just trying to be nice. [ maybe he could try it once in a while. ] I don't remember you complaining about being fed.
[ oh, was that all it was? no, but she's also not maintaining eye contact long enough to blush, either. ]
Why? ( while he's at it: why is the sky blue? some people are better, kinder, softer — they just are. those are also the people that get trampled first because they're too busy looking over their shoulder when they should be looking ahead of themselves. ) You don't owe them anything.
( he does falter. his words come full-stop. he doesn't turn his head to avoid looking at caroline. he doesn't have anything to hide. )
And I don't recall you objecting when I came back for seconds. ( having been there with her, he knows he could've stopped after the first bite. he shifts to move around her, intending to store the dried parsley away for the next person. the conversation's not over unless she wants it to be. and damon — he wants it to be, it's why his shoulder doesn't graze hers in the process. )
Because I remember how much it sucked to feel like nobody wanted me around.
[ it's just unfortunately also a question that calls back to a time she doesn't want to think about, to a very real memory of damon very sincerely wanting to mercy kill her instead of teaching her the ropes.
making spaghetti and care packages for new arrivals isn't quite as selfless as stefan's bunny classes or bonnie's ring making, but it's something. it's all caroline thinks she has to offer. which might explain why she's less shy about answering his secondary not-quite-a-question with one of her own. ]
I didn't think you wanted to do that again.
[ that's why they haven't talked about it, right? ]
( she can’t see the unconvinced expression on his face. miss mystic falls, cheerleader, head of approximately one billion committees feels like she doesn’t have any friends? he defaults to thinking she means liz, disowning her, prior to accepting her and then being compelled to forget everything. his mouth pinches at the corner while his fingers linger on the cabinet door. he swivels to face caroline, verging on analytical.
( naturally, he doesn’t assume her extremely loaded statement has anything to do with him. the two of them are insignificant to each other, have been from day one. )
he crosses his arms, placing the hand with a familiar blue ring on it over his bicep. ) I don't.
( that doesn't mean it wasn't good, and fun, and real. )
[ he believes what he wants to believe, and in that, damon's not alone. caroline has never advertised her own insecurities — there's a reason they only came out when she was too drunk to keep her own mouth closed — but she has always carried them with her. the fear of being second best, of never being good enough, of being the back-up friend and the unwanted daughter; they've always buried themselves just under the skin, reinforced by every casual dismissal and baited sarcastic bite.
she doesn't need to reinforce the statement. if he doesn't comment, that's fine; she doesn't want to argue the point. what he says is more interesting, anyway. ]
You don't want to, or you don't think I want to?
[ it would be so easy for him to dismiss her and shut down the whole conversation. but part of her wonders if he'll actually answer the question. ]
( evading caroline’s inquiry appeals to him in a bigger sense than standing in a communal kitchen and hashing this out. his look can only be described as piercing. he’s been backed into a corner and he doesn’t like it. he should have had the good sense to listen to his gut and avoid her. not to put himself in the position where they have to deal with this. he should have anticipated caroline's inability to be casual. )
Not think, know. I know you don’t want to. ( because he’s not that guy! he’s not a storybook prince that comes galloping in on a white stallion, ready to whisk her away from her problems. if that's what this is. he's making a leap by deducing this about her. she's lost. she's uncertain. she's alone. he hasn't dialed into the fact that not answering the first part uncovers his truth — he'd do it again. he would go there with caroline but only if she actually admits that it can't go anywhere.
that whatever this is, whatever she's doing, it's probably an excuse. that spiral into not being perfect? he's followed it down as deep and as dark as it goes. )
[ she could tell him that he was right. just two words, a quick breath, and the topic would be closed out like a book slapped shut and placed back on the shelf. and, on some level, he is. she doesn't want to do this with him — if this is something real, something defined, a relationship in all senses of the word. she doesn't want to be his surrogate elena or to let him fill in where matt had failed. that's not who they were to each other.
but that doesn't mean she doesn't want, either. it doesn't mean she hasn't thought about that roller coaster of touch and taste and sensation in new tokyo, or that she hasn't thought about what it would be like to replicate it, because she has. turns out, it's just easier to be obstinate and contrary than it is to be honest. ]
Well, you're wrong. [ kind of. ] Does that change your answer?
( he wishes she would. he isn’t katherine. he won’t whittle someone down until they eat, sleep, breathe out of the palm of his hand — compulsion is harmless, playing a game to make someone fall for you unequivocally is heartless. and he doesn’t know stefan’s way of building people up because there’s only one person he’s ever been willing to carry and even his own brother’s weight is too much. so he wishes she would shut it down, stop allowing her curiosity to rule her. hasn’t she learned yet that what ifs are as lethal as fire? )
Does hearing I'm wrong make me want to? ( so what if that's a button of his? )No.
No, because I'm not like you. I already want to. I'm not ashamed of it. I was hungry, so I ate. It evolved, so I adapted. ( there. he addressed it. ) Why? Why do you need to know the truth? ( he doesn't care and he means that from the bottom of his heart. he doesn't care because he can't; he also has trust issues in regards to his close friends. people who have sworn he can rely on him and then turned around and used him. ) You know me. You already know the answer is yes. Yes, I'd go for a repeat performance.
( he has the tact to lower his voice but he doesn't. he may be vulgar but it's the truth; a deterrent and an offer. )
I would bite you, kiss you, sleep with you. I'd go for round three right here.
[ deadpan, nonchalant; she says it even as she turns back towards the stovetop to adjust the heat and cover the pot, tone impressively even. there's real effort in that, though, and it really only lasts for a moment or two before she's whipping back around to face him, blonde strands flipping over her shoulder in the process.
he doesn't lower his voice, and so caroline doesn't either. she tries to be firm, but it comes out more obstinate than anything. ]
I'm not ashamed, either. I was — [ it's complicated. ] Confused, I guess, and then we didn't talk about it, and I just figured you did your whole Damon thing and decided you were over it.
[ or that she wasn't good enough. whatever. that's not the point. ]
It felt good, okay. It did. I just don't want to do it again in the middle of the safehouse.
[ sue her. if wanting privacy is demanding, then she's got no problems with being high-maintenance. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Is your new superpower annoyingly excessive chewing or something?
[ spit it out!!! the opinion, not the food. ]
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( he shrugs. )
It's good. And if I add in surprisingly, it's because they use crumbled crickets like cracked pepper around here, not because I think you can't cook. ( he can be backhandedly nice, ok. )
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instead, she just blinks at him for a few moments, and then arches onto her tiptoes to grab a can of dried parsley out of the pantry, shoving it into his open hands a second later. ]
My dad hated parsley. He said it tasted like soap.
[ actually, that's cilantro, but same difference. ]
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( she could have done that without him. )
I don't know why you would want to ( they won't say thank you ) but you should be all set to play house.
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I'm just trying to be nice. [ maybe he could try it once in a while. ] I don't remember you complaining about being fed.
[ oh, was that all it was? no, but she's also not maintaining eye contact long enough to blush, either. ]
no subject
( he does falter. his words come full-stop. he doesn't turn his head to avoid looking at caroline. he doesn't have anything to hide. )
And I don't recall you objecting when I came back for seconds. ( having been there with her, he knows he could've stopped after the first bite. he shifts to move around her, intending to store the dried parsley away for the next person. the conversation's not over unless she wants it to be. and damon — he wants it to be, it's why his shoulder doesn't graze hers in the process. )
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Because I remember how much it sucked to feel like nobody wanted me around.
[ it's just unfortunately also a question that calls back to a time she doesn't want to think about, to a very real memory of damon very sincerely wanting to mercy kill her instead of teaching her the ropes.
making spaghetti and care packages for new arrivals isn't quite as selfless as stefan's bunny classes or bonnie's ring making, but it's something. it's all caroline thinks she has to offer. which might explain why she's less shy about answering his secondary not-quite-a-question with one of her own. ]
I didn't think you wanted to do that again.
[ that's why they haven't talked about it, right? ]
no subject
( naturally, he doesn’t assume her extremely loaded statement has anything to do with him. the two of them are insignificant to each other, have been from day one. )
he crosses his arms, placing the hand with a familiar blue ring on it over his bicep. ) I don't.
( that doesn't mean it wasn't good, and fun, and real. )
I thought that was a one-time offer.
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she doesn't need to reinforce the statement. if he doesn't comment, that's fine; she doesn't want to argue the point. what he says is more interesting, anyway. ]
You don't want to, or you don't think I want to?
[ it would be so easy for him to dismiss her and shut down the whole conversation. but part of her wonders if he'll actually answer the question. ]
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Not think, know. I know you don’t want to. ( because he’s not that guy! he’s not a storybook prince that comes galloping in on a white stallion, ready to whisk her away from her problems. if that's what this is. he's making a leap by deducing this about her. she's lost. she's uncertain. she's alone. he hasn't dialed into the fact that not answering the first part uncovers his truth — he'd do it again. he would go there with caroline but only if she actually admits that it can't go anywhere.
that whatever this is, whatever she's doing, it's probably an excuse. that spiral into not being perfect? he's followed it down as deep and as dark as it goes. )
no subject
but that doesn't mean she doesn't want, either. it doesn't mean she hasn't thought about that roller coaster of touch and taste and sensation in new tokyo, or that she hasn't thought about what it would be like to replicate it, because she has. turns out, it's just easier to be obstinate and contrary than it is to be honest. ]
Well, you're wrong. [ kind of. ] Does that change your answer?
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Does hearing I'm wrong make me want to? ( so what if that's a button of his? ) No.
No, because I'm not like you. I already want to. I'm not ashamed of it. I was hungry, so I ate. It evolved, so I adapted. ( there. he addressed it. ) Why? Why do you need to know the truth? ( he doesn't care and he means that from the bottom of his heart. he doesn't care because he can't; he also has trust issues in regards to his close friends. people who have sworn he can rely on him and then turned around and used him. ) You know me. You already know the answer is yes. Yes, I'd go for a repeat performance.
( he has the tact to lower his voice but he doesn't. he may be vulgar but it's the truth; a deterrent and an offer. )
I would bite you, kiss you, sleep with you. I'd go for round three right here.
no subject
[ deadpan, nonchalant; she says it even as she turns back towards the stovetop to adjust the heat and cover the pot, tone impressively even. there's real effort in that, though, and it really only lasts for a moment or two before she's whipping back around to face him, blonde strands flipping over her shoulder in the process.
he doesn't lower his voice, and so caroline doesn't either. she tries to be firm, but it comes out more obstinate than anything. ]
I'm not ashamed, either. I was — [ it's complicated. ] Confused, I guess, and then we didn't talk about it, and I just figured you did your whole Damon thing and decided you were over it.
[ or that she wasn't good enough. whatever. that's not the point. ]
It felt good, okay. It did. I just don't want to do it again in the middle of the safehouse.
[ sue her. if wanting privacy is demanding, then she's got no problems with being high-maintenance. ]