+{M!A}
totame:
There was no doubt about it; this boy (whoever he was) was practically a carbon copy of his younger sibling dating back from the years when they’d both been children. He had the same array of bronze curls Damon could recall running his hands through scruffily many-a-time back in the days where he’d been teaching his brother the basics of football; even the same unmistakable green hue to his eyes that the familiarity of could hardly go missed. And as if his suspicion hadn’t already rocketed, the confirmation that this boy did, in fact, know his name was almost startling. Not only that but he was regarding him as his brother. So it was true: this was Stefan, all oblivious and fresh-faced and so completely unaware of where he was. But for validation:
”You wouldn’t happen to know a Giuseppe either, would you? It’s 2010, kid.”
The familiar name piqued his interest, his bright eyes blinking through his thick strands of hair to gaze at the older man. "Giuseppe... Salvatore?" It had to be; Giuseppe wasn't exactly the most common name and Stefan knew of no other man with that naming living in Mystic Falls. "He is my father. Have you seen him? Is he here?"
Despite his earlier apprehension of the situation, he snorted a little at the latter comment. "Aren't jokes supposed to be funny, mister? I know it's 1854, I'm not a fool." Regardless, his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment as he continued to think the man was teasing him, perhaps even mocking him. "Damon Salvatore," he tried again, "if you know Giuseppe then you must know Damon. He's fourteen, mister. Has dark hair like yours, blue eyes too." He smiles more, though. He smiles much more. "Have you seen him?"
