[That Damon Salvatore already has some open wound festering on his stomach isn't so surprising.
He waits through the struggling with an expectant sort of well? etched across his face. When he does finally get the reply that he deems almost acceptable he doesn't bother to loosen his grip - he doesn't smash his skull into the brick again either, and this is only because he wants Damon semi-lucid for what he has to say next.]
I could beat you until there is nothing left but a stain on the wall, but I think you might enjoy that. So let's play this game instead, shall we? If you so much as contemplate another idiotic attempt like that, I will start collecting damages from the people you care most deeply about. [He leans forward, pressing harder on his neck and leaving only a few inches of empty space between them.] I need a doppelganger, true, but I don't have any particular need for a doppelganger with hands. I don't need her with eyes, or even most of her face. I certainly don't need that pet hunter of yours for anything but fertilizer and Stefan is only worth his ability to keep this half-hearted truce intact - which, frankly, I'm not feeling all too impressed with how he's chosen to handle that right now. So please. [A menacing upturn of his mouth, and now the iron grip releases with one last shove against the wall.] Push me.