The Banshee Teacher || TVD [BEING REWRITTEN ON MY PROFILE]

Chapter Forty-Nine

"I have learned
that to be with those I like
is enough."
Walt Whitman

Icy blue eyes flutter open while the sky is still dark, and the stars are still visible—the missing warmth in the space beside him the cause for Damon's awakening.

The raven-haired vampire slides out of the bed carefully, quickly pulling a shirt on before following the sound of soft humming down the stairs.

Damon stops on the bottom step, his gaze moving to the redhead sitting on the new couch.

Her laptop rests on her mostly-bare crossed legs, and her black shorts peek out from beneath her oversized grey t-shirt as she continues humming to the tune of a song he recognises, but can't place.

The dim light from the laptop screen is the only light in the entire house, and it barely illuminates the face of the woman using it.

One corner of his lips twitches worriedly, quirking into a sad smile as he passes behind the couch and into the kitchen, going unnoticed by Bri until he turns the light on.

Bri sighs as she checks the time—4:21.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," the banshee apologises when—after a few minutes in the kitchen—the raven-haired vampire sits down beside her, two cups of coffee in hand.

"The bed was just a little too cold," Damon states jokingly as Bri sets her laptop to the side and takes a sip of her coffee, "How long have you been up?"

"Just under an hour now," Bri shrugs, her leaf green eyes staring into the rich brown liquid instead of the worried blue eyes set on the side of her face, "I knew I wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, so I decided to use the time usefully."

"By tracking Stefan and Klaus," the vampire nods understandingly.

"And preparing for the full moon tonight," the banshee adds softly—so softly, it's barely audible to Damon's vampire hearing.

When he makes sense of the words, Damon's gaze turns curious, "I still don't know how you're going to be able to help Tyler from across the North Atlantic."

"It's Rose and Trevor using Kit's daylight jewellery all over again if I'm being frank," Bri explains, "I'm hoping my blood on a worn charm will act as a personal talisman that I'll be able to channel or siphon pain through—like when Bonnie uses my necklace to channel me."

Damon nods as he absorbs the information, his lips quirking into a soft smile, "You're supposed to be on holiday, taking a break to relax and recuperate from everything you've gone through, and you still intend on helping Tyler."

Bri finishes her cup of coffee, her leaf green eyes meeting the vampire's icy blue ones as she says, "He didn't choose to be a werewolf, and shouldn't have to go through what he will have to, every month, for the rest of his life."

"Is that your way of saying you'll be siphoning his pain every full moon for the rest of his life?"

"What's 60 years to an immortal?" Bri responds with a shrug.

"Well, since there's—on average—a full moon every month, that's about... 720 nights of excruciating pain still to come," Damon works out, prompting the banshee to stare at him with furrowed brows.

"It's four-thirty in the morning, and you're doing maths?" Bri rhetorically questions, her lips quirking into a teasing smirk as she adds, "Who are you, and what have you done to Damon Salvatore?"

Damon rolls his eyes at the woman, ignoring her jest as he states, "You do so much for those around you, Bri—too much, in my opinion. You put everyone before yourself, which is beyond admirable, but you've put yourself on the backburner for too long.