It ain't over till it's over. [ Take him and Elena, but he can't exactly cite that relationship, now can he? She's from his life before. ]
You need another drink. [ He finishes his own and tosses the cup away. ] Come on. [ Instead of returning to the piss poor green beer and run of the mill Irish whiskey, Damon leads Jefferson past the tables with the provided alcohol, preferring instead to step away from the festival all together, leading Jefferson not too far away to his and his brother's garage. He and his brother probably drink more at work than anybody in this town. But it's not like they drive the cars. They fix them.
Taking out his key ring, Damon unlocks the door to the reception area, walking through and around the desk, back to his office door, which he then unlocks as well.
Flicking the light on, Damon moves around the desk and crouches, using yet another, smaller key in the bottom left drawer. He pulls out a fine aged bourbon, closing the drawer with his foot. ]
I don't break out the good stuff for the townies.
[ But they aren't townies, now how the drones and their smiles act. No, they're different. Even if they do live here.
Walking back out into the reception area, he grabs two of the cone-shaped paper cups, holding one out to Jefferson, before popping the top of the bottle, pouring some for his best friend's (?) ex and himself, setting the bottle aside. ]
[ He holds one finger up with his left hand. ] Sip it.
no subject
You need another drink. [ He finishes his own and tosses the cup away. ] Come on. [ Instead of returning to the piss poor green beer and run of the mill Irish whiskey, Damon leads Jefferson past the tables with the provided alcohol, preferring instead to step away from the festival all together, leading Jefferson not too far away to his and his brother's garage. He and his brother probably drink more at work than anybody in this town. But it's not like they drive the cars. They fix them.
Taking out his key ring, Damon unlocks the door to the reception area, walking through and around the desk, back to his office door, which he then unlocks as well.
Flicking the light on, Damon moves around the desk and crouches, using yet another, smaller key in the bottom left drawer. He pulls out a fine aged bourbon, closing the drawer with his foot. ]
I don't break out the good stuff for the townies.
[ But they aren't townies, now how the drones and their smiles act. No, they're different. Even if they do live here.
Walking back out into the reception area, he grabs two of the cone-shaped paper cups, holding one out to Jefferson, before popping the top of the bottle, pouring some for his best friend's (?) ex and himself, setting the bottle aside. ]
[ He holds one finger up with his left hand. ] Sip it.