So fill up your lungs and just run... [open + closed]

[theycalledmeacurse]

Who: Marie (Rogue) + You!
Where: WP Academy, Main Street locations, her neighborhood, etc.
When: The month of April
What: Getting used to the town, meeting people, maybe a tiny bit of snooping
Warnings: Will update as needed
Note: I'll match your style, brackets or prose. Here's her Pines Info.
[Open + Closed]

Wandering @ Her Neighborhood
Friday, April 7 - Open, especially to neighbors

Was it weird to walk through your own neighborhood staring at other people's houses?

It was a thought that did cross Marie's mind more than once as she slowly strolled along the sidewalks, past house after house. Some were empty and silent, bearing no names on the mailboxes as her own did, while others had life teeming within them. Families getting ready for dinner, children playing in the backyard. The odd thing was, even those empty houses were filled with furniture, as if waiting for their families to come back and claim them. No matter how many flower beds she climbed through to get close enough to windows to peer inside, each one was the same. Furnished, decorated, lifeless.

Hopefully no one called the police on her for snooping.



Running & Donuts @ Around Town
Saturday, April 8 - Open

The sun was only just coming up as Marie left the house, moving as quietly as she could in the hopes of not waking up her roommates. The air was crisp and she shivered slightly in her green running pants and long-sleeved shirt. She stretched for a minutes on the front lawn before setting off on her run.

Well, it was more walking with a hint of running every now and then. Even a slow jog left her gasping for breath, like she hadn't done anything more than lay around for years rather than the few days she'd been trying to recover from the accident. Like most things in her life, it didn't make one bit of sense, but what was she going to do about it other than struggle through the grueling process of getting back into shape?

After a few turns around the surrounding neighborhoods, she'd head down Main Street and stop in at Hurts's Donuts to pick up breakfast for the house.



Shopping @ French's General Store
Sunday, April 9 - Open

Sunday was the day for grocery shopping. It was what she'd grown up with and it was what she followed now in the hopes of finding something like comfort in the old ritual that left her battling other Sunday shoppers for elbow space in the aisles. She was covered in a large grey knit sweater and jeans, gloves and a scarf, and her striped hair down for added measure. There were going to be absolutely no accidents, she'd promised herself, and she was determined on that point.

Still, it was awfully tempting to zap Mrs. Lanahan when she went for the last bottle of chocolate sauce.



Faculty Bonding @ School
Monday, April 10 - Closed to Fellow Teachers

The first day back had been... overwhelming, to put it mildly. She'd taught three classes that day, all different levels of French, and while she remembered the language perfectly, she'd struggled through the syllabi and lesson plans that she'd supposedly planned out at the start of the semester. Those she didn't remember at all, and she'd stumbled over more than one thing in each class. Add in her awkwardness with students who remembered her when she didn't quite remember them, remeeting her colleagues who she only vaguely recalled, and the general physical drain of being in front of people for hours and, well, she was pretty damn tired.

It was the early afternoon when her last class finished and she retreated to the faculty lounge, where there was a half-empty pot of questionable coffee that she eyed for a good thirty seconds before pouring herself a small mug. Desperate times called for terrible coffee. She flopped herself down in a chair at one of the tables before setting her mug aside and laying her head down on the table. She would lay there for a while, drink the foul coffee, and eventually haul out her lesson plans for the next few days to properly review.



Office Hours @ Java Joe's
Tuesday, April 11 - Open, especially to students

Office hours. The idea made her think of all the visits she'd made to crammed little offices back in college, chatting with her professors about theories, going over assignments, and eventually asking for recommendations when she'd applied for jobs. It had been intimidating at times, and that was why she'd decided to hold her own office hours in a place where her students might feel comfortable - a coffee shop.

Twice a week, she took over a table at the side of the room and settled in for two hours. During that time students could stop by to ask questions, go over assignments, or just talk. She remembered the first few times had been mostly sitting by herself and drinking her weight in caffeine, but after a couple weeks the students had started coming. Even the ones who weren't in her classes anymore would stop by sometimes to catch up on life.

So as awkward as she still felt in front of the classes of teenagers she only half-remembered, Marie had wanted to carry on this practice, and she'd heard from a handful of students already that they would be by that evening.



Fortunate Accidents @ School
Friday, April 14 - Closed to Bucky Barnes

Had Friday always taken this long to come around, or had this week just been exceedingly long? Each day had dragged more than the last as Marie had struggled to adjust to her new-old life, getting back into the groove of things that she still only half-remembered. By the end of her last class, she was so completely out of sorts that she managed to spill her lunchtime coffee all over her white sweater.

Shit.

For half a second, she debated her options. If she waited until she got home, the sweater would probably be a lost cause, but if she worked on it now-- Decision made, she hurried down the hall, dodging the few straggling students who hadn't yet made it to the cafeteria. The art room was closer and had some decent-sized sinks for cleanup, so she slipped inside and made a beeline for one that wasn't stained with paint, tugging off the sweater as she went and stuffing gloves into her pockets. The camisole she'd worn underneath did a good job of keeping her decent, but with her arms and shoulders bared, she was just tempting fate to send a student rushing into the room. Waiting for the universe to cause another 'accident'.

She didn't even think about the tattoo on her arm that was bared, or the still-healing scars that were partially visible on her back. Her focus was on rinsing out the material as quickly as she could without running into anyone.


You Choose @ Main Street
Any day, you make the call

Not seeing what you want? Choose your own adventure! Rogue will wander through Main Street at least twice a day, aimlessly or with purpose depending on the location.

Comments

Wandering @ Her Neighborhood

[angelic_archer]

Taking care of the yard wasn't something Alec had expected to enjoy. There really hadn't been a chance for him to even try those kind of activities in the city. He wasn't even sure what city it was but he knew that he hadn't lived somewhere that he'd spent Saturday mornings mowing the lawn. Considering the scars that crisscrossed his body, he wasn't sure he wanted to remember what he'd done on the weekends. It was probably more adventurous than archery practice.

As he attempted to arrange gold pansies - gold was important for some reason - in a planter, Alec looked up to notice a woman peeking into the windows of the empty house next to his. Setting down the shovel, he stood, brushing his hands off on his jeans before heading toward her. Crossing his arms over his chest, one eyebrow lifted as he considered the reasons why she might be snooping on the neighbors. "Let me guess, this isn't what it seems?"

all that I know, is, i don't know how to be something you miss

[unforgivably]

He saw her running.

That was the first time he caught a glimpse of Marie. It was the first time he'd seen someone and hadn't spoken to them but remembered their name. Not much else came back to him, besides, Marie. He didn't think anything of it. He preferred to go on with his day. He wondered now, who might he run into next. Their world prior to this accident kept revealing more of itself. Now his wife had a best friend he altogether didn't love, for petty, pointless sophomoric reasons.

He wanted to know, what's next?

It was one thing for a best friend to come out of the woodwork, someone with a life of his own. Fitting his newest best friend also played the part of guardian.

Today was different.

Damon, usually a breaker of routines, had set a strict one in this town, mostly because there wasn't much to do. But, today he broke routine. He told himself he should grab a cup of coffee. It warmed vampires' veins. There would be no need to explain his colder skin. Though, with the brisk temperature finally breaking, he'd need an excuse. The cold gave him every excuse. Leather jacket over the t-shirt he'd last worn in front of Rayna Cruz herself, pants tighter than the fashion of the time but his usual boots, Damon made his way into the local coffee house looking the picture of out of place. He also looked damn good.

He glanced absentmindedly (or so he thought) to the clock on the wall, before looking to his left to a corner he'd know would be occupied.

Marie.

He ordered a coffee for himself, but found himself ordering her favorite, knowing off the top of his head what she'd like to drink. He paid for them both, actively not looking in her direction, knowing she anticipated him going over there, but refusing to move until he had her coffee in hand. He had never been this aware of anyone in this town and they hadn't even spoken yet. Feelings overtook him, ones he couldn't put to words. He knew then that the glimpse he got of her running had triggered a series of differences in his routine, of a white lie he'd told Katherine, when at the time he thought she didn't need to know, and the blatant lie he'd told his brother. He'd dropped off the car they were working on because the house was nearer to her office hours. Office hours she kept up twice a week.

Setting the coffee down in front of her then, he glanced behind himself before taking the seat across from her, sipping from his.

"Any adolescent drama today?" He knew the students came by for help with their assignments, and for support. She played the part of teacher and guidance counselor when need be. Damon's words dripped with double meaning, however, other truths coming into place now that they had come face to face.

Katherine, eat your heart out.

[theycalledmeacurse]

She didn't notice him when she was running. If she had, that day might have gone differently. The days following might not have been so filled with unease and whirling thoughts of what might be wrong with her. She might not have ended up back at the hospital, only to be quickly checked over and sent on her way with a bottle of acetaminophen for her headaches. Everything would be fine, the nurse had assured her, just give it time.

That was so much easier said than done. Waking up in that hospital remembering only a handful of things about herself had been hard enough, but now that other memories were beginning to trickle in... They didn't make sense. Conflicting series of events warred for her attention, and everywhere she turned there seemed to be people who knew her when she didn't know them.

Like him. She hadn't seen him come into the coffee shop, didn't take note when he placed an order at the counter. It wasn't until he set a drink down in front of her and took a seat that she looked up from the textbook she'd been reviewing. His question was answered with a confused expression as she glanced at the cup that was clearly meant for her.

"I'm sorry, sugar, do we--" The words were slipping out even as the fog in her mind shifted, revealing a name that left her lips in a breath of recognition. "Damon."

Damon Salvatore. High school, coming back from New York. The pieces slid into place like a puzzle, still a little blurred at the edges but colored with emotions that she could have sworn she hadn't experienced in a very long time. Acceptance, affection, genuine care. The feeling of strong arms wrapped around her, the weight of those striking blue eyes watching her. How could she have forgotten all of that?

It doesn't make sense.

Clearing her throat and shifting slightly in her chair, Marie shook her head, reaching out with a gloved hand for the drink he'd bought for her. A mocha, her favorite. "Nothing really serious. Some of the students are testing me because I've been away for a while, but I'll get through it." Pausing before taking a sip of the coffee, she added in her soft southern drawl, just in case he didn't know. "I was in an accident. I don't remember it, but I don't remember a lot of things."

[unforgivably]

"You will," he replied, simply. Something about her made it difficult to look away from. Something about her and who she was to him. Whom she used to be and after. "The memory loss comes from the accident." So he'd experienced and witnessed. Though, he'd swear the memory loss was due to whatever this place did to them, and not the fake accident everyone took part in. The month before, discussing

"The kids'll let up. They're just happy to have you back." He takes another sip from his coffee, before his other hand comes to the cup. "They're not the only ones."

[fidelis]

Sam walks in talking under his breath, eyes locked on the contents of an open folder. He's reading over his own syllabi, trying to figure out why everything he's doing feels so wrong.

(I work for the President of the United States--)

"Stop it." Said impatiently and to himself. He hasn't yet noticed someone else in the room.

Office Hours @ Java Joe's

[babyhunter]

Clary was slowly readjusting to her life. She was remembering things at a decent rate though it wasn't fast enough for school. She was stuck studying more than she liked to catch up to where she should be in her classes. She knew that she was focusing on her portfolio for an art program but she had to keep her grades up in other classes as well.

She had a french conversation book positioned beneath her arm as she walked over towards the teacher. Clary remembered the office hours and the place though she had forgotten her teachers name. That wasn't so usual.

"Excuse me." She'd stepped up to Marie only after making sure it was the right person. "I'm sorry. I'm looking for help in French." Her mother was in France for an art show, it had made sense that Clary learn too. If she wanted to be a serious artist she would be taken all over the world.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Marie only vaguely registered the sound of someone else entering the room, her own thoughts too loud to let her focus on anything else as she communed with the tabletop. When that impatient order came though--

"Stop what?" she asked quickly, nervously, lifting her head and turning to address the man who'd just walked in. Sam. His name was Sam. She'd forgotten.

[theycalledmeacurse]

She really needed to be better about paying attention to her surroundings. If she did end up in a cell for the night, it would be her own damn fault for not even noticing the young man approaching while she tried leaning at a few different angles to peer in between the mostly drawn curtains of the prettily painted house.

Going completely still at the sound of the way too close voice, there was the fleeting instinct to run that even a second later seemed utterly ridiculous. Where was she going to go? And how could she expect anyone to not remember her very noticeable striped hair?

After a deep breath, she turned to face the witness to her completely harmless crime and flashed the most charming smile she could manage. "Of course it isn't," she answered in a soft southern drawl.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Every time someone in this town had assured her that her memories would come back, she'd just smiled politely and absently wondered if there was a script that had been passed around for dealing with all these amnesiac accident victims who wandered around trying to find their lives again. With Damon, though? She believed him, without an ounce of doubt. She was comforted by his words, even though she couldn't quite say why yet.

And then he said that and she remembered a little more. About him. About herself? About the marriage he had with... The name escaped her.

"Suddenly I'm happy to be back," she revealed, mildly surprised that it was true. Tilting her head while she more closely examined that truly handsome face, she added with a hint of awe in her tone, "Even though I just remembered you, it feels like I've been missing you something fierce, sugar."

[angelic_archer]

His expression turned to faint amusement and disapproval. It was a strange combination but it felt like one that Alec was accustomed to. "Mmhm. I have siblings. I know that con by heart. Try another one." He couldn't really be annoyed with her since he'd been just as curious about the neighbors. Except he hadn't gone snooping since he didn't really want to end up in jail.

He really should call the police but Alec didn't think she was planning on breaking into any of the houses and if she did try it... "If you're casing the neighborhood, skip our property. The topiaries are carnivorous and you can't enter the house without an invitation."

[theycalledmeacurse]

Siblings. Did she have any of those? There was the faintest memory of being in a house with other children when she was little--no, houses. Plural. But she couldn't quite grasp the whole story there.

Carnivorous topiaries? Marie glanced at the house next door, taking note of the plants that had been trimmed and did seem a bit... menacing. But carnivorous? It was a weird thing to say, she knew that, but she didn't find the idea itself all that odd. Didn't all homes have defenses in the flora?

"Noted," she said with a nod, stepping carefully out of the soiled area in front of the window and back onto the grass. "Though for the record, I'm only interested in the empty houses. And I'm not casing them."

java joe's.

[abetment]

Whatever anyone with the last name Salvatore or Forbes may believe, Katherine actually does not stalk every single one of Damon's (or Stefan's) movements there in town. It's a tiny place: anything she needs to know, she'll find out. They can't leave, after all.

She doesn't drink coffee. Or tea. Or anything that isn't alcoholic or blood-related. At least, not regularly. Plus, one needs to venture into any number of places to get the low down on who's doing what.

Overall, the coffee house is quiet, and she does order a drink. That she might sip at, or toss into a trash can before she heads home. Turning back around to choose whether or not she'll sit for a few or exit the place, she spots a newly arrived face. With the most...

"Who dyes your hair?" Interesting appearance, but it's actually the papers that the other woman started to spread out that made Katherine decide to approach. She speaks immediately once she reaches the table, standing there near its edge. A quick glance down: oh, a teacher? Huh. Possibly boring. Her voice rings with a gruffer hold than most women, but she's not being unkind. Maybe she genuinely wants to know? She smiles, no super special memories creeping up (yet) of this person. Her brows lift high, head nodding slightly to the side. "You?"

[unforgivably]

Damon had thought for months certain people had scripts. The sheriff barely ever went off, except when he leaned heavily into menacing territory. But, the people who hadn't woken up in that hospital, they spout the same things, especially when asked certain questions. Keywords struck up similar conversation, if not word for word. Damon hadn't thought about the town before he and Stefan had woken up there, and he'd only connected with people who'd also woken up there, people he'd never met despite his memories telling him they did.

Like Marie.

"I can be very missable." His smirk lessened, turning more genuine.

Fierce was a perfect word to describe their attraction. Not in high school, Damon hadn't done the right thing in high school, returning to his first love. But, after, when Marie had returned. The attraction was instantaneous. Friendship alone lasted a few weeks. Damon's fingers grazed the cup, moving back and forth, all the while keeping his gaze.

"I'm happy you're in one piece. The accidents never leave more than a scratch on us," he added, referring to the prior groups, something Marie may have not heard. And for Damon, he and Stefan hadn't had scratches or bruises had been what they were. Vampires. "But, how can we not worry that one of these times they'll prove fatal." Like clockwork, the first of the month, more accident victims woke up, having not been there the month prior. But, they'd always been there, hadn't they. "Stefan and I were in an accident three months ago." Katherine, two, but he didn't mention her.

[angelic_archer]

Despite not knowing if Magnus had been joking about the beautiful, dragon shaped topiary, he kept his expression neutral as the woman started considering his words. Knowing Magnus, if the thing wasn't ready to eat any potential burglars, it'd be prowling around the grounds in the next few days. Best to warn her even if there might not be a danger currently.

Maybe he should post a sign warning everyone to stay off the lawn.

"Good. I don't want to have to deal with the extra lawn care if the dragon eats someone." He definitely shouldn't have said that but they probably were already considered the 'weird' couple in the neighborhood. They might was well embrace being the town eccentrics. "Are you looking for a new house?"

[theycalledmeacurse]

After only a few days in the strange little town that was home but didn't quite feel that way, Marie still wasn't sure what to make of anything. The accidents, the ominous signs posted in businesses and homes alike, the memories that kept creeping up that couldn't possibly be real. Everything seemed off, nothing fitting together in a way that made any sort of coherent image. But there were people here living their lives, going about daily business and seemingly not having any of the problems she was. So many the trouble was just with her after all.

Lord, she loved his smile.

Did she love him? With every passing second, it was clear that there was something strong between them, like a magnetic pull that kept them coming back to each other. Had he been part of the reason she'd decided to come back to Wayward Pines a few years ago? The notion sat right with her, though perhaps he wasn't the only reason. He had certainly been a large part of what made her content to stay. But love... That was always a complicated matter.

She wanted to reach out and touch him, to wrap her hand around his in a way she felt she'd done so many times before. It was a desire that was growing into a need, a desperation to make sure he was actually real and sitting there with her. If he was just some figment her broken mind had produced, she didn't know that she'd survive it.

"There are an awful lot of accidents for a small town like this," she mused quietly, her tone still conversational because she didn't have anything to be suspicious of. She didn't know nearly enough about her situation to really question anything going on in this place yet. Dropping her gaze to her cup, she bit her lower lip for a moment before asking, "Do you know-- Have I been in an accident before? Recently?"

[unforgivably]

"I know you were in this one. Now. I'd be mad you didn't call me, but--" He had a wife. She hadn't known who he was. She didn't really know him. She could just be a figment of this world, whatever it was. Or, a fellow prisoner. If that was what they were. "I have a cell phone now," he smoothly transitioned. "May I?" His fingers now abandoning the coffee, touching the edge of her lined paper. It would be easier for Marie to get in touch with him if she had a direct line. He knew they had a schedule once upon a time, with interludes of passion here and there when they needed it.

He hadn't had sex in two months. And however long he'd been out. Forgettable memories of Krystal with a K not withstanding, he hadn't gotten that itch until now.

Not really.

What a difference a daily run made. Or, a glimpse of that run.

Sliding over her paper and taking her pen, he wrote his number one after the other, before turning it back to her and setting the pen back down. He took another sip from his coffee and sat back, a glint in his eye apparent that he hadn't had in months even before waking up in Wayward Pines.

"I don't think you'll be in another accident any time soon. It's more of a one time rite of passage for us." Or, something like that he thought. Us meaning the groups of them that kept waking up.

"Do you ever take a break from your office hours?" She knew him well. He knew her. She knew what he meant, and why he was asking. Could she get away? Technically, they hadn't done this in a few weeks. In reality, they'd never done this. But, it felt like they'd had.

[theycalledmeacurse]

He'd be mad she hadn't call, except she couldn't. Because of his wife. Because of... what they were doing, all of them. Because of the way they lived their lives, following a path that most probably wouldn't understand. It didn't matter what others thought, of course, not so long as they didn't break the rules, and the rules said nothing about extramarital affairs.

It was something else that didn't fit into the jigsaw puzzle of her memories. She could have sworn that her touch hurt people, it was why she'd been so careful the past week, but she very clearly remembered being able to touch Damon, and there was no question that he was also under that impression now. Something might very seriously be wrong with her if she was making mistakes like that, but she honestly couldn't bring herself to care about it in that particular moment. All she could think of was what might come after they left the cafe.

"I don't think anyone else is coming tonight," she answered softly, her pulse quickening at the look in his eyes. It was almost time to pack up anyway, and if she found out someone came by after she left, she could apologize, give them an extension on the assignment. It would be fine.

Sliding gloved fingers over the numbers he'd written on the paper, she carefully gathered it with the other things she'd laid out on the table, taking special note of where it was so she could find it later. Something told her she would have reason to use it later. Her things were nestled inside the bag she'd brought before she turned her attention back to him with an expectant expression.

[unforgivably]

His smirk returned, then, the impish grin threatening to follow. But, where Damon once reveled in sex and debauchery, the feelings accompanying her invitation are far more Elena-adjacent, than, say, anyone else. A fondness he couldn't track rose up then, eyes staying innocent, if wanting. Yearning? One tap of his fingers and he was up, ready to escort her politely. To the untrained eye, it looked as if he was walking one of the teachers to her car. Everyone in their town did their part, anyway. And everyone had secrets. Some were more secret than others. He made a mental note to encourage Katherine to get an extra curricular activity. If she was going to stick with the mantle of home maker, she'd need an activity to let off her steam, like Damon knew he was about to do.

Taking her bag from her, he made the executive decision to help carry her things. He was a gentleman after all.

"Your car parked out back?" he asked, that familiar hint of mischief bubbling up to the surface. No, the bathroom would be too tawdry. And, cameras. But, her car. He'd established with Kenzi that cameras weren't installed in cars. And, the sun was down. He'd hope most people had walked today. But, if not, he could also get created.

This was happening. There was no question.

Faculty

[oncekind]

Jiaying's classes were a lot less frequent. Her role in the school was to stay available for any concerns and problems the students might deign to bring up to her. She can be found at the teacher's lounge often enough though, working on her lesson plans and the homework submitted.

She knew there had been a fresh influx of accidents this month, so it didn't surprise her to see more teachers who presumably have been here all along. A large part of her hated being here, hated having to pretend to care about humans and their petty problems but the time wasn't ripe yet. She had to be patient.

"Long day?" Her tone was friendly. "I have tea if you prefer that."

[theycalledmeacurse]

Had she done things like this before the accident? Yes, her mind told her, hinting at dozens of other evenings like this over the years where they'd stolen away in the dark and she'd pretended for a little while that things were different before returning to reality. But there was something at the back of her thoughts that whispered she'd never had the opportunity before, that no one had touched her with even an ounce of affection in--

She pushed all of that aside, resolving to deal with the disparity another time. Right now? Her entire world was focusing on the man in front of her. The handsome gentleman who had just taken her bag and was offering all sorts of unspoken promises of what awaited them beyond that door.

His question tamed her smile and she gave a tiny shake of her head, hoping this wasn't going to ruin their plans. "I walked," she explained regretfully, nearly cursing herself for having insisted. Yes, she needed to get back into shape, but in hindsight it seemed ridiculous to walk everywhere.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Trying to get back into the swing of things with her job was a fairly consuming task, and Marie was giving it her best effort while she studied lesson plans and materials that should have been familiar but still weren't. She was absorbed in reviewing the upcoming weekend's writing assignment when she heard someone ask a question. Glancing up, she frowned at the other woman for a moment before realizing what she'd been asked.

"Actually, it's not dyed," she replied in her southern drawl, her tone polite and friendly as she corrected the assumption. It was one a lot of people tended to make. "Someone tried to kill me when I was younger; I guess it's from the stress of that."

The explanation slipped out before she could really think about it, but once it was out there in the open, she had to wonder if that was what really happened. It felt like the truth, but it didn't fit with the memories she had of her childhood. Nothing she was remembering fit together though, so why should she be surprised that this didn't either?

[unforgivably]

It wasn't ridiculous to walk, it was ridiculous to be here at all. But, lemons, in this case. Marie understands how things are, and maybe she doesn't understand the true volatility of the marriage he's found himself in, both before and in reality. Damon could fight this urge. He could play the part but beg out. Leave her wanting more. But, he wasn't going to. Because he wanted it. He wanted it the minute he saw her running past his house one morning.

Her gaze was electric, awakening something in Damon he hadn't tapped into, hadn't truly tapped into since Elena was laid to sleep in that coffin.

They didn't make it to his car, now parked on the other side of town, or either one of their residences. They made it to behind Java Joe's obscured by a dumpster that had recently been emptied (and isn't that their luck?)

A perfect metaphor for what they are, but not what they weren't.

Clothes couldn't come off, not there, but that didn't mean they couldn't make it work. Zippers tugged down frantically, underwear next. One hand gripped shoulder and the other held her up, vampire strength making this delicate dance an easy one. Despite that strength, despite the rutting nature of what they were doing, keeping eye contact, and their breaths in sync made this more than just a rendezvous next to a dumpster. When he wasn't kissing her like she was the oxygen he'd been needing, his eyes found hers again, each thrust renewing a vow he hadn't remembered making. Maybe they tried to stop. Before the accident. But, why should they now?

He paused once in their love making, that twinge of guilt creeping up. Elena wasn't here. This wasn't Elena. But, he told himself that was okay. This wasn't Katherine. Live your life. Her voice echoed inside his mind. Twister or not, it kept him going, emotional arousal renewed. Memories of Marie and Elena swirled together inside his mind. Taking her in the classroom, the her being the both of them at separate times. Elena when he and her had been on the outs and he had convinced her their relationship was toxic, Marie after hours, after an alumni event or some such.

He was unaware of what she was, that this should be killing him. (And a part of it was, wasn't it.) But more than any other month, Damon before bled into Damon now. Betraying Katherine was a non-issue, though he knew he'd keep this a secret. Marie didn't need that hell raining down on her. Nor did she need this, or him. But, that was what he had here. He had her. He'd always had her. Why had he married the woman he married? Honor? Twisted passion? Frustration with the why finished him off, aggression from not knowing everything, to this not being Elena brought him to climax inside her with one last thrust upward.

His heavy breathing lessened as one hand went to the wall, bracing her so she could take her place back on the ground.

[theycalledmeacurse]

If Damon had tried to leave, she would have argued, persuaded, done whatever was necessary to get him to stay. Having sex back behind the coffee shop next to dumpster wasn't exactly the most romantic thing in the world, but that wasn't what this was about - it was about want and desire and finding something in each other that they needed. She couldn't have possibly let him walk away when it was so clear that he wanted this as much as she did.

Though she knew it wasn't the first time they'd done something like this, stealing away for a few minutes of giving in to their urges, it felt like the first time. Being so close to him was intoxicating, like drinking the finest wine and then being whisked around the dance floor. Her head was spinning after the first kisses and she clung to him as if he were the only thing left in her world. And once it was apparent that she could touch him, that her instincts were right and he was perfectly safe, she'd torn off her gloves with no regard to where they fell, desperate to feel as much of his skin against hers as they could manage in that moment. Touching him was addictive, each brush of their skin buzzing through her like soft electricity, and maybe it was just the rush of adrenaline, but she felt more awake and energized and alive with each passing second.

It doesn't make sense. How was it that she could touch him when she'd been so certain that she couldn't touch anyone? Had her mind been playing some sort of psychological trick on her ever since the accident? Had she been wrong this whole time? The endless parade of questions threatened to rise to the forefront of her thoughts during those moments of pause, only to be buried under emotion when they continued. Now wasn't the time for any of that.

The strength of her climax took her by surprise, the waves of sensation leaving her gasping as she held onto him. When was the last time she'd felt something this amazing? Months, her mind told her, but there was another whisper of years, possibly never. There was a slight wobble to her legs as she found her balance back on the ground, and she was grateful for the slightly dirty wall that helped hold her up.

"Thank you." The words were murmured before she even realized she was speaking, bare hands holding on to the smooth leather of his jacket. They seemed such a strange thing to say after what they'd just shared (and had shared before), but the emotion behind them was real. An overwhelming gratitude welled up inside of her for this wonderful man she'd somehow forgotten who cared about her in ways no one else had in so long. This man who wasn't afraid to touch her (but why should he be?) and had given her an amazingly precious gift (though she didn't understand why it felt that way). It was slightly mortifying when a second later there was in her eyes and the telltale tightening of her throat that meant she was about to cry.

[fidelis]

"Wh-- Oh. Hello. Sorry. I meant me."

He gestures at the air with his folder, as though the motion somehow illustrates... anything.

Recognition hits, and his sheepishness softens into a genuine smile. "Marie. How are you? I've been... Out. Not. Actually Chase's fault. For once."

[abetment]

Oh, how colorful that accent sounded to Katherine's ears. Much of her time at home was spent in the northern states, cropping over a bit to the Midwest (the cities, never the country or even the suburbs. Chicago remained one of her favorites to that day.) The voice she heard back carried a unique quality, and she found herself admiring it: Katherine could appreciate diversity. Especially the attractive sort.

Her fingers tightened slightly around her cup as that answer came out, revealed and laid out so easily -- was it was the truth? Her natural reaction crept out too, eyes widening, because anyone would be shocked to hear that sort of an answer.

"Wow. Someone here? Or, maybe in a town over." A rule wasn't broken, just close to it, because that wasn't talking about the past: they both knew, as did anyone else watching in, that they can't leave. A nod to an empty chair across from the other woman. "May I? Would you mind?"