action;
[A mistake. Easy as that, huh. No kidding. He's breezing past any mention of Rebekah (goddamn Original vampire writing in a cave a thousand years ago) because he can't handle vampires right now. (Plural. Maybe just one. Ugh.)
His eyes flick to the ceiling and back to Elena's face, half of an eyeroll. If Damon could just shut his charm off for five minutes, that'd be great.
Except. Dammit. Alaric totally falls for it anyway.]
I've talked around. [That's to Elena, by the way.] I could use a drink.