rose hathaway (roza) wrote in thedisplaced, @ 2018-01-06 11:41:00 |
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DECEMBER 10, 2017
Damon Salvatore ✦ Rose Hathaway
The Winter Ball → Salvatore Boarding House Drinking, Language, FF/FTB Sexytimes Complete Log |
In the absence of the love of his life, Damon had finally resurfaced from his alcohol-induced haze. Countless people had come to support him, something that gave him pause once sobriety sunk in and the hangover passed. He had a hell of a lot to be grateful for having, and with that in mind -- he would suck up the loss of Elena once again and carry on. Buffy was right, in a way. The odds of Damon moving on were slim, but he wouldn’t rule it out anymore. So, he’d propositioned Rose to accompany him to the winter ball. Damon could never turn down an opportunity for a dance in the end, especially one that promised alcohol. Together they’d shown up, and as the night was waning, he’d hardly been away from her (short of dancing with Emmeline and others). With liquor burning pleasantly through his system, though not so much that he didn’t have self-awareness anymore, Damon cracked a grin at Rose as he dipped her to the music. There he lingered, half bent over her, her hand clasped tightly in his while the other supported the small of her back, and he felt warm -- good. Maybe it had a little bit to do with the booze. “Having fun?” He asked, hauling her gracefully back up, practically nose to nose with her as he swayed to the music. Rose grinned back at him and nodded at his question. Slipping back into a life in Tumbleweed had been pretty easy, despite the changed she’d observed since getting here and saying she was happy to be back here was an understatement. Like Damon, she’d had losses. There was a part of her that still wished desperately for the people she’d been close to who were no longer here - Daisy, Jaina, Oliver - but she knew she couldn’t cling to the hope they would show up and remember her forever. At some point, she needed to accept their absence and move on with life, which is what she was trying to do. Maybe that was part of why she was here tonight. Maybe it was the excuse to put on a pretty dress and dance the night away with her friends. Whatever it was, she was having a great time tonight. She’d gone off and mingled some with the other people she knew here, but she always found herself drawn back to Damon, who’d been a constant in her life since the island, save those six months when she’d been back home. “Well,” she joked as she looked up at him, “the music is kind of lame, but the booze is good and I guess the company is kind of okay.” That was the trouble with living there against their will. They didn’t have a choice in who came and left. Damon didn’t deal well with change, though his coping methodology had drastically improved for having known the people he did now. The fact that Emmeline, Rogue, and Buffy hadn’t disappeared yet gave him some stability, but the loss of Rose and Daisy had somehow hit him harder than Elena, perhaps because he was already used to losing her so much. Lazily grinning at her, he abruptly turned her out for a spin. “Just ‘okay’? I’m hurt..” And just like that, he pulled Rose back to him. This time, both of his hands drifted to her waist to steady them both to the music. “I’ll have you know… You’re the luckiest girl here. I’m the only guy who knows how to cut a rug.” “Well, you’re a better dancer than-“ she broke off what she’d been about to say abruptly, pushing away the thought that just about a year ago she’d been at one of those fancy parties with Oliver. No. She had already had a couple of weeks to miss him, to feel sorry for herself that she wasn’t here and she told herself she was done with that. “-okay, probably like half the guys here,” she finished, but there’s been enough of a pause that she knew he wouldn’t buy that’s what she’d meant to say. He knew her well enough to probably guess what had been going through her head, but she figured he also knew her well enough to know she didn’t really want to talk about it. “Kind of an unfair advantage, though,” she teased him. “You’re probably the only guy here who was alive when people thought saying things like ‘cut a rug’ was actually cool.” The pause didn’t breeze by him, but he knew better than to call her out on it. They were in similar boats, weren’t they? Two people missing someone who couldn’t be there with them. Even so, he felt a semblance of satisfaction, not because Rose was a replacement or ideal substitute for the woman he loved, but because he cared about her more than he did most anyone else in his life. “I’d say at least three quarters,” he pointed out. If there was one thing he prided himself on outside of his abilities to torture, maim, and kill, it was his dancing prowess. “Might be cool again,” he shrugged easily, not bothered at all. That was their dynamic, wasn’t it? Rolling with the playful jabs. “And if it’s not, I’m bringing it back.” “You wish,” Rose said with a laugh. Her dark mood was easily banished as she and Damon bantered back and forth in the way they always did. That was one of the reasons she loved being around Damon. He made it hard to stay mopey for too long. “I think someone has an overly high opinion of his skills. I mean, you’re not bad, but...” she looked up at him with a look that could only be taken as a challenge to impress her. Not that he hadn’t already done so a few times tonight, but there was no way in hell she was going to admit that. At least not aloud. They had a solid way of balancing one another out. It was that balance that kept him grounded in the wake of losing Elena. In many ways, he felt like he was hanging on by a thread. On the other, he wondered if he wasn’t handling it a little too well. No matter how he painted his current state of mind, Damon didn’t particularly care for the thoughts it gave him. So, it was nice to be able to find a distraction in dancing with a friend near and dear to his heart. Challenge tacitly accepted, Damon gave her a spin and then began sashaying her toward the drinks table. Only stopping when he heard her backside hit the edge, Damon slid his hands down her hips and onto the table to feel around for a glass. His grin was mischievous as ever. “But?” He prompted, sipping at the glass with purposeful seduction. “Worried you wouldn’t be able to keep up?” Distraction was right. Rose would be lying if she claimed the feel of his hands moving down her hips or the sly smirk on his face did nothing for her. She wasn’t blind. She knew Damon was hot. She also knew she looked a hell of a lot like the love of his life, the two women he’d been obsessed with in his long life and that put him squarely in the off limits category most days. Far be it for Rose to pass up a chance to flirt, though. Or to back down from a challenge. “You wish,” Rose said again, rolling her eyes as if she really was unaffected by his charms. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep up with me, Salvatore. What, with your advanced age and all.” Sometimes it still felt weird, hanging out with a basically immortal vampire who wasn’t evil or even soulless, but Damon was really easy to like. She’d learned to look past her own preconceptions on vamp races a long time ago, enough to feel completely comfortable in such close quarters. Too comfortable a little voice in her head told her, but tonight she decided to ignore that. “Think I’m doing pretty well,” he levied, looking her up and down. It didn’t escape him how at ease he felt, and maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. They both knew how to hide things from one another in the end, didn’t they? Just as much as he preferred not to do that at all, some issues were better left buried. She hadn’t pushed him away yet, that fact also didn’t elude him. Instead of thinking about tomorrow, Damon settled on the moment. Leaning closer so that their noses bumped against one another, then touched his fingertips to her chin to coax her head to the side so that his lips could graze her ear. “Only one way to find out though,” dared Damon. Whether it was due to loneliness or the alcohol (or even a combination of the two), he’d crossed an unspoken line in the sand between them now and had no intention of going back. There was a definite sensuality to the way he leaned closer and Rose wasn’t unaffected by it in the slightest. It shouldn’t have surprised her that she could feel so much attraction to someone else after she’d spent the last few weeks thinking about Oliver, how much she missed him, but maybe it did surprise her a little to be having those thoughts about Damon. “I’m game if you are,” she responded to his challenge with a smirk. There were a lot of reasons they probably shouldn’t be crossing this line, but at the moment she just didn’t care. She was lonely, Damon was hot and Rose had never been one for really thinking through the consequences of her actions. She wasn’t about to stop now. They both had a nasty habit of charging forward without regard for consequences. He straightened just enough to look her in the eyes, absorb the smirk, and didn’t hesitate. Why waste time thinking when he could be doing? Drink discarded, Damon seized her by the hips and pressed his lips against hers. Now that he was there and kissing her, he only had one singular thought in mind as he pulled back ever so slightly. “Let’s get out of here.” If there was any remaining part of Rose that was considering pulling away, it was easily quieted by the kiss. It felt good, really good to kiss him and with a breathless nod, she agreed to his suggestion. No backing down, that was what he conveyed in his gaze before grabbing her hand and pulling her along with him. It felt like his very blood was on fire. One benefit of being a vampire? Knowing this feeling wouldn’t fade by the time they made it back to the boarding house. Tunnel vision driving him, he rushed them to his car where he all but backed her against the side of the passenger door to kiss her again. “Door,” he mumbled against her lips clumsily, hands fumbling to find the latch to open it. If he didn’t slow down, they’d never make it back to the boarding house. “In.” Rose giggled at Damon’s one word comments, even if she shared to compulsion to keep kissing him. Unfortunately, getting back home meant they had to pry their lips and hands away from one another. On the plus side, it was a short drive and it wasn’t long before Damon had her pressed against the front door of the Boarding House as he fumbled with his keys again, this time to let them inside and then they were making their way inside, bumping into walls and furniture as they worked their way to Damon’s bedroom. —- Sunlight streamed through windows they’re never gotten around to covering last night some hours later. The light burned against Rose’s eyelids and she rolled away from it, too exhausted to want to get up anytime soon. The move had her pressed against another warm body and slowly she opened her eyes as memories of last night cut through her sleepy haze. Damon. They’d- had they really? The fact that they were both naked didn’t escape her and she groaned softly and she contemplated her chances of slipping quietly out of his bed and this room without waking him. So, he hadn’t been thinking clearly. As he felt Rose stir, he mirrored her groan. This wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, was it? He was notoriously bad at this in the past, bad in the sense that he was callous and had no qualms with walking away from it and acting like nothing had happened. Hell, he’d done that in space with Jo once upon a time. They’d never spoken of it again. It wouldn’t be the same as that. Damon’s eyes opened to the light and to reality, keenly aware they were now on a slippery slope. “Think your bra is downstairs,” he pointed out, attempting to make light of the situation in the only way he knew how. “Technically, I think it’s on the stairs,” Rose corrected him with an amused shake of her head. Busted, she gave up thoughts of discreetly slipping out of the room. She doubted that would have really worked, anyway. “So,” she began a little awkwardly, because she knew this wasn’t something they could just not talk about, “that happened.” That earned a smug grin. He was a little bit proud of that. Did that mean he didn’t regret what happened? That thought in particular had yet to cross his mind. The only things connecting were Rose, bed, and nakedness. There was little room for anything else. “Yep,” he responded, opting to fold his arms behind his head comfortably. “Gonna bail or hang out here? Preferably sans clothes.” He had no shame. That was an excellent question. Rose’s humor faded a little as she considered things more seriously. This could get complicated and this was Damon. She didn’t want to do complicated with him. “I’m not Elena,” she said because she thought it needed to be said. It hadn’t been that long ago that the love of his life had vanished again and she couldn’t take her place, no matter how much they looked alike. Well, that felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over him. Abruptly, he sat up, but caught himself from fleeing to the bathroom like a child rather than sit and work this out with her. How could he say it didn’t occur to him when she had every reason in the world to voice the stone cold fact? More importantly, how could he convince Rose that the thought of replacing her, that she was some sort of stand-in, had genuinely never crossed his mind? When Damon looked at Rose, he saw Rose. He didn’t see Elena, Katherine, or Crazy Pants. They all had something that set them apart, something he couldn’t define nor express. So, he didn’t listen to the desperate call for flight. Instead he glanced over and sought out her hand, then covered it with his own. “No shit, Hathaway,” he responded, entirely contravening the gravity of the situation with both brevity, levity, and the utmost honesty. “You done?” “I don’t know,” she answered. The uncertainty was true no matter how he’d meant the question. Rose wasn’t always good at think my about consequences, but those had been a lot easier to ignore last night in the heat of the moment. Now in the harsh light of day, she wasn’t sure they hadn’t done something really stupid. “This could get complicated,” she pointed out. Maybe it was a stupid thing to say, but it was true. She was sure he had to know that. “It’s not already?” He shrugged, hand retreating as he shifted to the side and angled off the bed to scour the floor for his underwear. Deep down, he knew she wasn’t wrong, but didn’t want to admit it aloud yet. It was complicated in the sense that Damon had a defined understanding of where to go from here. “There it is,” he mumbled, finding his shirt rather than the underwear he wanted. Grumbling as he put it on, Damon shifted in spite of the nakedness so that his feet were planted on the floor. “If you’re thinking it’s gonna be weird, you should know I’m perfectly capable of turning things off and on at will. Doesn’t have to be complicated.” “Didn’t you just suggest it was already complicated?” Yeah, she was thinking it was going to be weird and that was on both sides. Maybe he could turn things off and on at will, but that wasn’t her. She didn’t think she could just pretend anything had happened and she sure as hell couldn’t do the casual thing with someone she already cared so much about. “Maybe you can just turn off your feelings whenever you want, Damon,” she said and it came out a little more bitterly than she meant it to, “but I can’t. You should know me well enough to know that.” “Yeah,” he grumbled, but then shook his head. “What does it matter? Everything’s bound to be complicated.” Now he was just being mildly immature, but he couldn’t explain why. Then again… Shifting to look at her from over his shoulder, Damon understood his own motivation. He just didn’t have the words to put together yet for conveying it properly. When she spoke again, something snapped into place. Rose was his best friend. If he didn’t fix this now, he could lose her, and Damon didn’t want that to happen. “I know. It’s bullshit anyway,” he admitted. “Turning it off. Doesn’t actually work. Look, Rose--I get it. You should get it, too. You, Elena, you’re not the same person. You could’ve looked like Caroline or Daisy and I’d have still been in for last night. Alright?” It wasn’t who she looked like, but who she was to him that he’d given in to those ordinarily quelled impulses. Nodding, Rose knew that deep down. She wasn’t even sure why she’d made the comment when Damon had never treated her like a stand-in for Elena. Maybe she just didn’t want to face that there were other reasons he’d wanted her. She was scared. She could admit that much to herself and the emotion probably played into her expression, too. Damon was her best friend, one of the only people she really had in Tumbleweed. Sure, she had friends, but it was Damon and Emmeline who she was close to. They were the two people in Tumbleweed she couldn’t stand to lose. Especially him. And if they pursued something more here and it didn’t work? She didn’t want to think about the consequences. “It matters because I don’t want to lose [...] us. I can’t.” “You won’t,” he asserted easily enough. “‘Cause, believe it or not, Hathaway, I don’t want to lose you either.” The prospect of being without her was bleak. Damon had experienced life without her and Elena simultaneously, it hadn’t been ideal. Emmeline was like a sister to him and he wouldn’t have kept it together without her, but having Rose around and in his life? He needed her in his life. “What do you want, Rose?” He asked, genuinely curious. “You can tell me. There’s no wrong answer.” “I don’t know.” It was an honest answer, because the truth was there was a big part of her that still missed Oliver, that hoped he would come back like she had and that he would remember them. At the same time, she knew she couldn’t stop living her life. She couldn’t wait forever for something that might never happen. “What happens if Elena comes back? If Oliver does? Maybe it’s already complicated, but it could get a lot more complicated. You’re the most important person in my life right now and I know that’s not likely to change, but that doesn’t mean we can’t both get hurt.” “If they come back, they come back,” he answered. “We’ll deal with it. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna quit hanging out with you if they do. You think you wouldn’t be able to if one of them did?” Having lost Elena so many times now, he knew Buffy was right. He couldn’t wait around for a possibility, but if she came back -- what would he do? His love for her was absolute, that much he knew. Elena was a core part of who he was now, but much of that wasn’t defined just by her anymore. It was Rose, Emmeline, hell -- he had a long list of friends under his belt now. Life didn’t begin and end in Elena anymore, at some point he was going to have to recognize that. “You don’t have to figure it out now. Neither of us do,” he added the latter as almost an afterthought. “I’m not talking about us hanging out,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We both know what happened last night was more than that. I mean if we [...] start something here, what happens to that if one of them comes back? Because you know I can’t just be [...] casual, not with you.” She’d tried it with Oliver, that whole casual thing and it had kind of worked. Except that she’d still ended up getting attached, falling in love with him, no matter how hard she’d fought it or tried to deny it at the time. It had been easier with someone who she hadn’t known well before things got physical. With Damon? Well, she already loved him. There was no pretending she didn’t, because she had long before anything had gotten physical. She’d never thought of it as romantic love before, but she wasn’t stupid enough to think she could start sleeping with him and not have those feelings grow. “If they come back,” Damon repeated. “If. We don’t get to decide whether they do. Yeah, we could both wait -- I was willing to wait for Elena. I am still willing to wait for her, but--” Shit, what did that even mean? There was a conjunction, a pause in that logic. “We can’t wait around for a possibility,” he finished as the logic washed over him. “Screw it, Rose. That’s what I think.” “I know that. I do. I just...” she didn’t really have an excuse other than the fact that she was fucking terrified of what could happen, of how one or both of them could get hurt or how they could seriously fuck up their friendship despite all their best intentions. But Rose was someone who took risks. She always had been. And as novel as the idea of being able to choose what she wanted without putting someone else first still felt, she did know, deep down, what she wanted. “You are wearing far too much clothing right now,” she said after a pregnant pause in which she’d tried to figure out what the hell she should do here. “Unless you’re planning to go downstairs and make me some pancakes, you should probably fix that.” Hanging on that pause, Damon watched her almost nervously. He didn’t know what to expect from her, but the bottom line was very clear. He didn’t want to lose her, and he could overlook the sex or whatever else she wanted just as long as she didn’t leave him. He hated losing people. Living as long as he had, he’d experienced it too many times to count. Then, she gave him a tiny bit of hope. So, this was happening. It didn’t require further discussion. “Pantsless pancake-making? Pass,” he grinned. Discarding the shirt, he reached out for her hand again, this time with far more confidence. “We can eat after a nice, long shower.” |