[Sarah files his willingness to go with her away for later.
It sounds like it could be a lot of fun, and she isn't really in the mind frame to think of a lot of fun things, but she knows--she hopes--she feels differently about it later. She knows it's not always this heavy. She knows it's not always this cold. It goes away, and it has to come back, but there's time in between.
It's not always very much time, but it's something.
And in that time in between she can just be Sarah, and Sarah would like bungee jumping for all the reasons he would.
Even if she can't quite reach that now.]
I... am. [She thinks she is. Sometimes. There's always something that happens that has you taking a step back.] I wouldn't want it to be something at the forefront unless it gets worse for you, the weird... feeling. Unless you needed help with it or to talk about it.
Otherwise, it's something... it happened before. Before you even knew me. I shouldn't--fixate on that or bring it all back for you.
[It's the last thing she'd want to do. He understands death very well, but it's not what she actively associates him with. She would never ignore those parts of him but they aren't what define him for her, just like she is more than the angel of death, the last thing someone sees before they die.
He believes that of her and she has to believe it, too. She usually does.
Sarah smiles a little at him when his hands touch her face, smiles past that restless feeling that's making her fingertips itch, and she closes her hand over her own arm.]
I'm sorry. That you and your sister had to go through that. I wonder what... he was like before he became a vampire. [How the nature of the vampire influenced him or if he was already capable of something like that. Sarah tends to think he probably wasn't, and even knowing this about him, he's still... a person. Capable of horrible things, but a person.
If Jeremy hadn't come back from that, Elena would've never forgiven him, no. She would've hated Damon for as long as she lived.] Oh. [Her voice is small, almost inaudible, and she's shorter than him, enough that her eye level is at his chest, not that she knows that's where he was shot, but it's where she's looking, biting the insides of her cheek.]
That... must've been really scary. I hate guns.
[Both of his deaths were so violent. His neck was snapped. Then he was shot.
Elizabeth was shot. Josef was shot. That's how they died, too. Bullet pierces your heart and you're done. She shakes her head against him once he rests his forehead with hers, swallowing back another sound and there's a burning in her own chest and it's never fair. She manages another smile when he says it's kind of cool, pads of her fingers now warmer on his skin.]
It's the strangest thing I know. [She leans forward, placing a soft kiss on his neck, shoving aside the rest.
She goes where he tugs and she lets herself fall onto the bed, her back against the mattress. She looks up at the ceiling and nods at him once with a small sigh, before turning to him with a wry smile.] I'm officially disowned. He's probably halfway cross the ocean now. At least he agreed to the arrangement.
[It meant getting her hands dirty but it wasn't as hard as she thought. She doesn't know what that says about her.] He'll keep up the pretense as long as I don't incriminate him personally. The weird thing is some of his friends and their families are also bailing. It's like they were asked to leave.
The Crowbar works with Damon so I imagine they both have the addresses now. To keep an eye on the families that take up residence. In case... [Her voice trails off and she shrugs a slim shoulder almost helplessly. There are a lot of case scenarios, and she looks back at the ceiling, the eclectic collage she made and hung up there that she'll have to take down.]
[action]
It sounds like it could be a lot of fun, and she isn't really in the mind frame to think of a lot of fun things, but she knows--she hopes--she feels differently about it later. She knows it's not always this heavy. She knows it's not always this cold. It goes away, and it has to come back, but there's time in between.
It's not always very much time, but it's something.
And in that time in between she can just be Sarah, and Sarah would like bungee jumping for all the reasons he would.
Even if she can't quite reach that now.]
I... am. [She thinks she is. Sometimes. There's always something that happens that has you taking a step back.] I wouldn't want it to be something at the forefront unless it gets worse for you, the weird... feeling. Unless you needed help with it or to talk about it.
Otherwise, it's something... it happened before. Before you even knew me. I shouldn't--fixate on that or bring it all back for you.
[It's the last thing she'd want to do. He understands death very well, but it's not what she actively associates him with. She would never ignore those parts of him but they aren't what define him for her, just like she is more than the angel of death, the last thing someone sees before they die.
He believes that of her and she has to believe it, too. She usually does.
Sarah smiles a little at him when his hands touch her face, smiles past that restless feeling that's making her fingertips itch, and she closes her hand over her own arm.]
I'm sorry. That you and your sister had to go through that. I wonder what... he was like before he became a vampire. [How the nature of the vampire influenced him or if he was already capable of something like that. Sarah tends to think he probably wasn't, and even knowing this about him, he's still... a person. Capable of horrible things, but a person.
If Jeremy hadn't come back from that, Elena would've never forgiven him, no. She would've hated Damon for as long as she lived.] Oh. [Her voice is small, almost inaudible, and she's shorter than him, enough that her eye level is at his chest, not that she knows that's where he was shot, but it's where she's looking, biting the insides of her cheek.]
That... must've been really scary. I hate guns.
[Both of his deaths were so violent. His neck was snapped. Then he was shot.
Elizabeth was shot. Josef was shot. That's how they died, too. Bullet pierces your heart and you're done. She shakes her head against him once he rests his forehead with hers, swallowing back another sound and there's a burning in her own chest and it's never fair. She manages another smile when he says it's kind of cool, pads of her fingers now warmer on his skin.]
It's the strangest thing I know. [She leans forward, placing a soft kiss on his neck, shoving aside the rest.
She goes where he tugs and she lets herself fall onto the bed, her back against the mattress. She looks up at the ceiling and nods at him once with a small sigh, before turning to him with a wry smile.] I'm officially disowned. He's probably halfway cross the ocean now. At least he agreed to the arrangement.
[It meant getting her hands dirty but it wasn't as hard as she thought. She doesn't know what that says about her.] He'll keep up the pretense as long as I don't incriminate him personally. The weird thing is some of his friends and their families are also bailing. It's like they were asked to leave.
The Crowbar works with Damon so I imagine they both have the addresses now. To keep an eye on the families that take up residence. In case... [Her voice trails off and she shrugs a slim shoulder almost helplessly. There are a lot of case scenarios, and she looks back at the ceiling, the eclectic collage she made and hung up there that she'll have to take down.]
It's better this way.