dear diary.

The  dark  burgundy  dress  she  wore  clung  beautifully  against  her  frame.  it  was  a  far  cry  from  the  leathers  and  furs  she  had  once  known.  It  fit  her  well  enough,  though  Tatia  still  wasn't  entirely  convinced  modern  fashion  was  practical.  In  truth,  she  was  given  the  dress  by  the  one  who  freed  her and tatia  hadn't  planned  on  attending.   Still,  curiosity  had  won.

he moves through the revelers with measured grace, his steps unhurried as he approaches the edge of the pool. recognizes the restless grace in her every movement, that quiet intensity that betrays a thousand years of history. tatia. interesting new surprises every single day, this town.

klaus glanced down at his phone, unimpressed by the deflection attempt. he swirls the drink in his glass, his eyes meeting his across the room. 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿. ❝ tell me, stefan. should we continue this tedious little game from opposite ends of the room, or are you finally going to meet me in the bathroom for five minutes? ❞ then a moment later: ❝ unless, of course, you've become a coward… in which case, please do better at pretending not to look at me every thirty seconds. ❞

it shouldn't get under his skin, but it does. won't pay too much attention to the why of that being due to who's behind the message. ' and hypothetically, say i do follow you in there. what's happening for those five minutes ? ' he doesn't nurse so much as swallow his next glass, as if it's even going to do much for him tonight. he knows as well as klaus does at this point that he's only delaying the inevitable. after a moment, adds against his better judgment, ' the looking is to make sure you haven't snapped any necks yet, for the record. '

He thought for a moment before scrunching his face and shaking his head, "no. no I don't think I want to," he disagreed, a smile still laying on his features before raising a brow. "You talk like you know me, which makes me concerned seeing as I've never seen you a day in my life"

that new joke is rewarded with a roll of her eyes. ' some light roleplay isn't going to be the thing to cheer me up, stefan, knock it off. ' hesitates, adds, ' is everything okay with you, actually ? you've been a little out of it lately. '

“how about you chill out and have fun… it’s a party, lena.”

' yeah, a party, not the back alley behind a gamestop, jer. ' takes a breath, fights for the patience she needs. ' why don't we just go home ? '

' guilty. ' flashes a smile she doesn't feel, borderline self-conscious. ' he could be. he's not exactly my biggest fan right now. any advice on how to handle brooding college boys ? '

"I bet your brother's going to go far in life," he commented, taking a sip of his own drink as he looked around. "C'mon, there's a idiot free corner not far from here, I guess I'll share it"

that response elicits a surprised breath, unsure whether to laugh or scoff, or how seriously to take him. stefan's not usually so ... whatever this is. ' okay, easy on the judging. both of us bashing him isn't exactly going to make me feel better. you know you don't have to come to these things if they aren't your scene, right ? '

⚲ 𝗟𝗢𝗖𝗞𝗪𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗘, @graevstone

his jaw ticks. exhales a slow, calculated breath, deliberately locking down the frantic rhythm of his pulse. his eyes meet klaus' smug gaze across the room for the fraction of a second before darting away again. can't give him the attention he seeks. won't approach. refuses. texts back a grudging, ' maybe you should spend less time stalking me and more time on finding a town that can keep up with your demanding tastes. this one's too quiet for you. '

The  music  was  loud  enough  to  shake  the  walls,  bodies  packed  shoulder  to  shoulder  throughout  the  Lockwood  estate  as  laughter  and  drunken  conversations  blended  into  one  endless  blur  of  noise.  Anora  stood  near  the  edge  of  it  all,  a  red  cup  dangling  loosely  from  her  fingers  as  she  watched  the  crowd  rather  than  joined  it.

he catches the tail-end of her words, footsteps slowing just a few feet away. gives a knowing smile; the kind of look reserved for someone who's spent well over a century ducking into shadows and corners to outrun the endless noise.

damon  had  gotten  bored  approximately  twenty  minutes  after  arriving,  which  was  a  new  record.  the  bad  thing  is  when  he  was  bored  the  line  of  good  decision  and  bad  decisions  blurred  into  something  fantastic  that  screamed  like  an  old  nike  commerical:  just  do  it!  he  was  standing  on  top  of  tyler  lockwood’s  kitchen  island  while  half  the  party  was  gathered  around  him  with  drinks  and  phones  in  hand.  “yolo...  isn’t  that  what  the  kids  still  say?” yeah,  maybe  in  2012  but  who  cares ??? with  absolutely  no  regard  for  common  sense  or  self  preservation,  he  launched  himself  from  the  island  and  caught  the  ceiling  fan’s  center  rod.  the  entire  fixture  jerked  around  violently,  but  spun  once  and  he  landed  on  the  opposite  counter  top. “i’d  rate  that  like  a  solid  ten  out  of  ten,  maybe  eleven.”

are the drunken acrobatics impressive ? ... no. is it extremely reckless in a throng of humans with cell phones ? absolutely. and is it entertaining ? perhaps a little. elijah finally steps forward from his vantage point in the background, tapping the countertop as he circles around it, each casual step bringing him closer to the rogue vampire. ' i'd rate it closer to a four, actually. decent landing, but clumsy dismount. have you considered a separate career path to ... what do they call it nowadays ? ' his eyebrows lift in something akin to polite curiosity. ' or is it still court jester ? '

❝ if it helps knowing, having family disappointments seem to be a universal experience. ❞

' depends. are you the family disappointment or the disappointed family ? '

❝ sure, i'll take a drink. what do think is in that, anyway? ❞ davina asked, her nose crinkling as she peered into the giant cooler with a mix of beverages that someone had made. not that it mattered, she would be drinking it all the same.

he leans over for a peek into the unpromising contents of the cooler, managing a single displeased hum before pulling away. ' best guess is regret mixed with college senior taste in tequila ? maybe hold off and i'll find you a drink that doesn't look like it'll fistfight you on its way back out. '