Mystic Falls, 1859
She wondered if she had ever felt contentment like she did at that moment in time. Sitting on the blanket on the grass, she let herself recline to rest on her back, peering up as the sun shone above her. She narrowed her eyes before letting her hand cover her forehead as she avoided looking directly into the sun. It took another moment before she felt the body rest next to hers and she rolled her head to the side, her eyes opening wide as she looked onto him and he took his turn to look to the sky.
"I don't think that Stefan has forgiven me."
Sighing, she took to closing her eyes again and moving to rest on her side, her hand tangling into her curly red hair as she propped herself up on her elbow.
"He will do," she responded in a small voice. "He is still a child, Damon. His mother died last year."
"And I should have gone," Damon responded in a low voice. "Charlotte, you know that I should have gone. The whole town went to honour my mother and I went and drank. I got drunk-"
"-And I know why," Charlotte spoke with haste to him, moving to let her hand dangle on top of his arm that was covered in a light white shirt tucked into grey trousers. "Damon, you don't need to explain yourself to me."
He sighed and moved to press his other hand on top of hers, patting her hand awkwardly before she dropped it from his arm and moved it to rest on top of her stomach where her corset dug into as she went to rest on her back once more.
"I want it to be how it was," he admitted to her, his brows arching on his forehead as he spoke in a slow voice, weighing up each word with intrigue. "I want to be there to protect him and I let him down. I let him down and I should have gone to the funeral."
Charlotte nodded her head slowly before sitting up, the wind slowly whipping her hair as she made the motion. Saying nothing, she merely looked down onto Damon, knowing that the guilt was slowly eating him up. There wasn't a day that went by recently when he didn't think of his mother. He didn't quite understand how he couldn't move on from his mother's death. He suspected he just needed time. But it had been almost seven months and he was still struggling.
"I understand why you did not go," Charlotte promised him. "But, at the same time, Stefan does look up to you. You set an example for him and he just feels let down. In time he will know why and he will understand like I do."
Damon chuckled then, propping himself on his elbows as he let the wind blow his hair into his face. He eyed Charlotte with intrigue, looking at her face as she peered up to the sun, letting it wash over her skin. There was no denying that what he felt for Charlotte was confusing to him. She had been his best friend for years; since they were six. He had grown up with her, being only four months older. She was often a rowdy child, running through the town and causing havoc. But as the years went on she had been forced to grow up. She had been made to act as a proper lady does; show some etiquette and decorum. She had quietened down in public, but there were still times when she wasn't afraid to show who she really was.
It was usually when they were alone, like today. There would be times when they would sneak off into the fields on the outskirts of town where the grass grew up to six inches tall and no one could find them. Damon would sometimes grab hold of Charlotte by the arm if he saw her wandering through town and drag her to the spot. She would look around, knowing full well that people were watching and would report back to her parents.
The idea of her running off into the fields with a young man was particularly scandalous. Yet everything they did was innocent. There was no other intent behind their actions. They simply liked to run away and talk. They enjoyed it.
"I think you are the only one who does understand me," he informed her and she snorted at that and Damon gave her a wry grin as she made the noise. "Very ladylike."
She moved to hit him gently on the chest. "And it is not very gentlemanly to tease a lady. Anyway, there is a reason why no one understands you, Damon. You act differently in front of other people."
"It is easier," Damon said. "I know what people in this town say about me, Charlotte. They think I am reckless."
She arched her brow and held her hand up slowly. "Do you think that is all they say?" she teased him. "They also say you are naïve," she moved her hand along her fingers as she reeled off the list. "Impulsive, foolish, have no clear future…"
"I understand," Damon said, moving to take hold of her hand and push all of her fingers down into a fist, as she laughed lowly and Damon shook his head. "But thank you for reassuring me."
"You are more than welcome," Charlotte promised him and went back to resting on the ground, her back flopping down as she moved her hand down her stomach, trying to shift the tight corset she wore underneath her gown.
"Besides, do you know what they say about you?" Damon asked from her.
"I can guess," she said, a smile on her lips as she closed her eyes. "They say I am charming…intelligent…polite-"
"-Reckless," Damon interrupted and also went to rest on his back again. "They say you are just as reckless as I am. Mind you, they do see you running off with me into the fields. No doubt they think that you cannot resist my charming-"
"-Charming?" she interrupted, unable to stop herself from scoffing at hearing that as she shook her head slowly. "You are right, people really do not know the people in this town."
Damon chuckled but nodded his head in agreement with her. "You know I rarely agree with you, but you are correct on that matter. However, the people of the town are very good at gossiping."
"I know that too," Charlotte agreed, sighing softly as her hands rested on her stomach and a cloud covered the sun, causing a slight chill in the air. "What have they been saying recently?"
"About a certain young bachelor and the only daughter of Boris and Marianna Wallis."
Charlotte did take an interest then as she heard him mention her parents.
"What did you hear?" she asked of him. "Because my parents have said nothing since I told them I did not care for Charles Fell. I know that I am supposed to be married soon, but I…I don't want to be married."
"You know that is not how things work, Charlotte," Damon reminded her. "When you come of age then you are supposed to marry-"
"-But I am fortunate that my parents are not like everyone else in this town…trying to create a good match and marry into money," she rolled her eyes. "Besides, I doubt they have a dowry to offer for me. You know that father barely makes enough money tutoring as it is and mother is helping in the apothecary. I find it fascinating."
"Apothecary?" he asked of her. "As in medicine?"
"Yes," Charlotte said. "I did not realise that were so many herbs and medicines that could be used for numerous illnesses. It is fascinating."
Damon did laugh then as Charlotte looked solemnly to him, seeing his face scrunched up in laughter as she took a moment to wonder what was so funny. After a moment the noise quietened down and Damon turned to look at her, a smirk still on his face.
"I am sure all the eligible bachelors would love that, Charlotte," Damon told her. "A woman interested in medicine. Next you will be telling me that you want to become a doctor."
She frowned then, pursuing her lips as she heard him speak. "And would that be so bad?"
"It would not be appropriate," Damon informed her. "Besides, if the rumours are true and Michael Swift does intend to pursue a courtship with you then I doubt he would want his wife to be cleverer than he is. However, that would not be difficult. You know how he is hardly the wisest of men."
Charlotte did agree with that, nodding her head slowly. "But why would he want to court me? There are far too many others from older names like yours."
"Yes," Damon agreed, "but most of those are already engaged, Charlotte. Men are expected to find a wife and settle down. Unfortunately there are too many men and not enough women."
Charlotte complained then, moving to sit up fully as she peered into the distance, the sight of Mystic Falls in her gaze as she looked to the town. All she could think about when she looked at the town was how she wanted to leave it sometimes. She could leave the gossip and the false courtships. She could forget it ever existed.
She startled when she felt Damon's hand on her back, turning to see him sit up and next to her, his hand remaining on her dress as she dared to move and rest her head on his shoulder, nothing uncomfortable about the motion as he angled his neck slightly to give her more room.
"Your parents would never force you to do something you do not want to do," Damon assured her, seeing how the worry had crossed over her face earlier. "Contrary to many parents, Charlotte, they actually do love you."
"And I love them," Charlotte said. "But I know what is expected of me and I know that I cannot be a burden forever."
"But that does not mean that you have to make a hasty decision," Damon urged her. "Your parents would not like that, Charlotte."
"No," she admitted to him and slowly adjusted her head on his shoulder at a better angle before he moved to rest his cheek on top of her head. "I doubt they will care about the news that I have ran off again when it gets to them."
"Do they ever berate you?" Damon asked.
"No," Charlotte said with a roll of her eyes. "They just tell me to be careful. They know that we are friends. They understand that."
"Perhaps they could give some of that knowledge to my father," Damon complained and Charlotte looked up to him, softly urging his head away from resting on hers as she peered up to him and he shook his head slowly. "Forget I said anything."
"No," Charlotte responded. "What is it?"
"Nothing worse than usual," Damon told her. "I just…you know what he is like, Charlotte. He is a fraud and a liar. He goes around the town and people think he is charming, but they do not know him. They know nothing about him."
Charlotte did grind her teeth together. Every time Damon mentioned his father she remembered what happened when he was just a young child. She remembered him crying when he ran away from home and she had found him in the square. She had been wandering to the apothecary with her father to walk her mother home when they saw Damon.
He had shown them the burn mark from his father's cigarette and told them it happened on Thanksgiving but it was still aching. Her mother had made him a salve and applied it to the area, bandaging it slowly and turning to look at him. She had promised him it would heal and that he could come and see her for help. She had even given him a sweet cake she had baked.
Damon could remember her kindness. He could still remember how his own mother had ignored what had happened; no doubt scared to coddle Damon and assure him everything would be fine.
"He does not want me seeing you," Damon admitted to Charlotte and she rolled her eyes, bringing her knees up to her chin and hooking her arms around them, her cheek resting on her kneecaps.
"Because of my status?" Charlotte guessed and Damon shrugged.
"You know I don't think like he does," Damon assured her. "And I don't intend to listen to him. He can call me what he wants and do what he pleases, but I don't care."
"You shouldn't get in trouble for me," Charlotte urged him.
"I do it for me too," Damon reminded her. "I have been your friend for years, Charlotte. I have no intention of giving that up."
She smiled then and moved quickly to squeeze the arm he had draped behind her back. She went back to resting her head on his shoulder before closing her eyes slowly, squeezing them together and imagining living in this town without Damon. She suspected she might have gone mad if that were the case.
"We should go back," Charlotte said and Damon almost sighed at hearing her say that. This was the part he hated. "I promised my mother I would help her this afternoon."
"I will walk you back," Damon told her, standing up and offering his hand to her, hauling her to her feet as she kept both of her hands inside of his as he smirked and looked to her. "Besides, I would hate for you to bump into any young bachelor who is seeking to ruin your virtue."
Charlotte laughed then, shaking his hands from hers as she reached for her hat and he folded the blanket up, tucking it under his arm as he offered Charlotte his other arm and she took it loosely, walking by his side into the town. They ignored the looks people shot them as Damon led Charlotte towards the apothecary shop that was completely empty.
He held the door open, the bell dinging above the door as Marianna Wallis peered up from the mortar and pestle and the crushing of herbs. She smiled at the sight that came into her eyes as Charlotte entered the shop, her feet clicking against the wooden floorboards as she inhaled the scent of the shop. It was almost overwhelming as she inhaled and Damon wrinkled his nose. He never got used to the extensive scents.
The shop was small, lined with medicines on one wall and a small counter in front of it that Marianna stood behind and did her work.
"I had heard that you two had snuck off again," Marianna declared. "Mrs Fell could not resist coming in here and informing me. No doubt she thinks I ought to keep my daughter locked away at a piano."
"You tried that," Charlotte reminded her mother, pecking her on the cheek as Damon kept his hands behind his back. "It worked, but not entirely."
"Oh well," Marianna laughed, looking over to Damon. "So long as you kept my daughter safe and her virtue intact, Damon?"
Damon laughed, not flustered as Marianna wiped her hands on the apron around her waist. Marianna was a charming woman. She was young looking, with bright green eyes and red hair like her daughter. She was small and slender, but her face was nothing but kind.
"As always, Mrs Wallis," Damon promised her. "As always."
"You will have to come around for dinner one evening, Damon," Marianna said, pulling a vase from the shelf as Charlotte rolled her eyes to Damon, silently apologising for her mother's behaviour. "We have not seen you in a while."
"I would love to," Damon said, bowing his head out of politeness. "I must go, however. It was a pleasure, as always, Mrs Wallis."
Marianna turned her head over her shoulder to beam to Damon. "Don't be a stranger, Damon."
"I will walk you out," Charlotte said and Damon arched a brow as she moved towards the door.
"I thought that I had just chaperoned you here?" Damon asked from her as he held the door open again and stepped onto the street, looking to Charlotte and the door swung shut and she folded her arms over her stomach loosely.
"You had," Charlotte informed him. "But I need to…I just…if coming to my house for dinner would get you in trouble with your father then-"
"-Have we not just discussed this?" Damon asked from her as she smoothed out the simple blue dress she wore on her body. "I do not care, Charlotte."
"Well you should," Charlotte said, peering over his shoulder, "because your father is approaching."
Damon groaned loudly then, turning around to see the man walking down the street towards him. The look on his father's face was enough to tell Damon that he was not happy. The forced smile on his face as two women passed him by and nodded at him was enough to tell him that. He tipped his head forwards, tilting his hat as he finally came to stand before Damon and Charlotte.
"I had heard that you two were together," Giuseppe Salvatore declared.
Charlotte could not deny the fact that she felt a chill go through her as she heard him speak. She had never been comfortable around Giuseppe. She suspected it was to do with the fact that he had never liked her. He had tolerated her as a child, but now that her and Damon were adults, he had less toleration. He saw her as someone beneath him; someone who should not be near his son.
Damon frowned, his glare increasing on his father. "I take it you had your spies keeping an eye on me?"
Giuseppe laughed, the sound cold and calculating. "Come now, Damon. It is a small town. People talk."
"And don't I know it," Damon complained. "Anyway, I was just saying goodnight to Charlotte."
"Yes, well," Giuseppe spoke and looked over to Charlotte as the red head looked away slightly and towards Damon who was also looking to her. "Good evening, Miss Wallis."
"Yes…good evening…" Charlotte nodded with haste before looking to Damon as he saw her cheeks tinge red slightly and she moved into the shop.
"You don't have to be so rude to her," Damon complained when Charlotte had fully disappeared and the door shut behind her. Damon began to move down the road with his father next to him, avoiding a horse and cart as it moved by them.
"She is a pain, Damon," Giuseppe declared. "She is not worthy of holding your interest."
"She is my friend," Damon declared. "She is the only friend I have in this town."
"And whose fault is that?" Giuseppe demanded from him. "Now, I do not know how many times I need to keep telling you this, Damon, but it is in your best interests that you stay away from Charlotte and find a proper lady to court."
"I do not court Charlotte," Damon said in a snarl.
"No," Giuseppe said, "but I am no fool, Damon. You are not just her friend. I see the way you look at her. If I find out that you have ever placed a bastard in her belly-"
"-Stop," Damon demanded from his father, also coming to a stand still as his father looked to him with narrowed eyes. "That is not how our relationship is. Charlotte is my friend and I care for her, but I would never ruin her or hurt her."
Giuseppe didn't seem to believe his son. All he could do was look the boy up and down, clear annoyance on his face. "See to it that you don't."
Giuseppe continued to walk away while Damon remained stood where he was, struggling to follow his father. He detested the man. Everything he did was done to hurt Damon. He detested him for that, but he would never obey him. Staying away from Charlotte was not possible.
Damon turned to look back to the store over his shoulder, watching as Charlotte set about working on some form of medicine, a determined stare on her face as she tucked her hair behind her ear. No, staying away from Charlotte was not an option.
…
A/N: Do let me know what you think!