[ He doesn't have her pity. He never has. Maybe once upon a time when things were still so new with Stefan, when she wanted so badly to believe Damon could be a better person - for himself, for Stefan, to protect the town - maybe she'd been naive enough to think it was sad, how everything he did, he did for love, for Katherine.
That was before he snapped her brother's neck. So the only thing that mingles with the hurt and the weight on her chest is the affronted reaction to him so bluntly and easily dismissing the last few days. Maybe she's been confused, but she wouldn't say that; she would never do that.
God, he's an ass.
(Because she's thought it. She's thought, at the very least, that it was between them. That Caroline shouldn't know. Maybe she's felt shame. Maybe. But she's felt more than that, too.) ] Is that what you think? [ Her voice is sharp. ] That it just - [ She looks to the side, to the ground momentarily, to find her bearings. Her lips pull up in a slight sneer; she lifts her arm from her side and lets it drop like lead with the next words. ] - doesn't mean anything? I just want to forget it? [ Does she? Can she? ]