┏━━━━⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪━━━━┓

A PHONE CALL

AFTER THE SHERIFF ESCORTED HER HOME, IT TOOK CHARLOTTE ALL OF TWO SECONDS TO LET HER EMOTIONS WASH OVER HER.

She slumped against the front door, knees pulled to her chest as she covered her mouth with her hand.

It was the very late hours of the night, bordering on the very early hours of the morning, so she tried to keep as quiet as the house seemed to be. There was not a creak of the floorboards, or a whoosh of the door hinges as they threatened opened. No footsteps, no snores.

Despite Bonnie quite literally bringing Jeremy Gilbert back from the dead, seeing his chest covered in dark crimson was something that wouldn't just erase itself from her mind. This had been different from the time when Tyler pushed Sarah away a little too hard in his father's office; this had been a boy she knew— a boy who was only there to help.

And where did that land him? Dead, and needing the Bennett girl to revive him with her witchy powers. Charlotte didn't think she'd ever felt so thankful for Bonnie in her entire life up until that point, and oh, was she so incredibly thankful.

"Grow up," she muttered to herself, shakily rising back to her feet after she'd spent a good fifteen minutes on the floor. She hadn't cried, but she willed the tremors of her hand to go back. "He's fine, you're fine, everybody's fine."

She repeated the string of words like a mantra under her breath as she ascended the stairs, clenching and unclenching her left hand to try and stop the shakes. She'd made it all but one foot through her bedroom door before she heard a noise.

It was her phone, buzzing to life in her pocket. The sound was blocked by the denim fabric, but just loud enough for her to hear it. It startled her only slightly, but she was sure to close her bedroom door fully before fishing it out and clicking the answer button without checking.

"Hello?" she called out into the line, though she was curious as to who would be calling at such a late hour.

"Sorry for the late call," a British voice drawled, and instantly Charlotte's body was enveloped in goosebumps. "I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time, Charlie."

The emphasis on her nickname seemed pointed, in a way where she didn't quite know if the man was mocking her or simply letting her know that he indeed saw her as Charlie. It was a welcome change, far different from Lottie, anyway.

Still, no amount of proper name usage could stop her from scowling. "Oh, I am so not in the mood for this shit, Klaus," she grumbled into the device. "What I am in the mood for is some sleep, so goodni— wait, how'd you get my number?"

"I have my ways," he responded, just as cryptic as ever. Hell, she could hear the smirk in his tone. "Can't I say hello to my favourite Mystic Falls resident without any ulterior motive?"

Charlotte inhaled through her nose. "You periodically keep your family in boxes, so your favouritism doesn't mean much to me." There was a beat of silence. "Yeah, I heard all about that quirky little trait of yours."

A deep chuckle sounded. "I'll keep this short, then," Klaus began. "Now that my curse is broken, I've some business to tend to. So, I'll be leaving—

"Don't let the door hit you on the w—"

"—but I'd wager that I'll be seeing you again soon."

Charlotte froze. "Pardon?" was the first thing she blurted out. She shook her head despite the fact that he clearly couldn't see her do so. "There's nothing here for you anymore. Elena's dead, your curse is lifted, and—"

"You're here, aren't you?" he asked her.

Her eyes closed, her hand beginning to twitch. "Is this because of your weird obsession with Lottie?"  she questioned right back, a subtle heat to her tone. "Is it because I look like her?"

Realistically, Klaus' interest in her had to be rooted in the girl she resembled. The girl whose life she viewed in her solitary dream that involved the vampire himself and that damn bar in Chicago. In the back of her mind, she wondered what he thought about birthdays.

"I knew Charlotte Saint–Jermaine, knew her better than most," he responded. "I'd like to know Charlotte Henry just the same, that's all."

She swallowed around nothing. "That's it?" she asked, replacing her suspicion with a tone of boredom. The last thing she wanted him to know was how utterly freaked out she was. "You just wanna... know me?"

Klaus' words were reverberating around inside of Charlotte's mind. It just seemed too... far-fetched, too simple of a request. Here he was, the great evil that stormed into their town and killed innocent people for his own gain, asking to get to know her.

Not Lottie. Her— Charlie. She didn't know why he'd only just made that distinction between them now. What had he learned that she hadn't yet?

His answer was immediate. "Yes, that's it."

Charlotte glanced to the picture frames that hung just around the vanity, many of her own family and some of her most dearest friends. She locked eyes with one of her and Tyler, just two six year olds on their first day of school. Life in their eyes, an easiness to the Lockwood boy's demeanour that had been hardened in the recent years.

That was the boy Klaus had tried to sacrifice.

"When you hurt the people I care about, you don't get to know me," she responded dryly. "It would take something otherworldly to get me to give you a chance like that."

Just when she went to pull the device away from her ear to hang up, she caught the last sentence he uttered with a nauseating amount of confidence.

"It's a good thing I've always liked a challenge, then."

⋆౨ৎ˚

"He's definitely up to something. Like, should we be sounding the panic alarm again?"

The next day, Charlotte found herself sitting across from the Forbes girl at the Grill. Once again, it felt like their latest gossip sessions were starting to take a supernatural turn; and that wasn't exactly for the better, either.

Caroline might as well have had her mouth agape the entire time that Charlotte relayed her interesting phone call from the previous night. She finally snapped out of it with a blink, and an angry look took over soon after. "Who does he think he is?!"

"I know right!" Charlotte exclaimed with a huff, her arms thrown to her sides. "On the bright side, he thinks Elena's totally dead."

Caroline shook her head. "But on the not-so bright side, he's after you."

"To know me," she repeated in the best British accent she could muster. It was followed by a bleh sound leaving her lips, and a giggle leaving Caroline's. "He can know the bottom of my ass when he kisses it, because hell to the no."

"You think that he's—"

"Already fraternizing with the enemy, Caroline?"

Waltzing up from the bar behind them was Damon Salvatore, who despite getting bit by the Lockwood boy, looked just as he did under normal circumstances. Only somehow, he looked like he was in the most scheme-y mood.

Rather than even dive into the why of his rude statement, Charlotte merely held back a literal snarl from bubbling out of her. "Shouldn't you be off dying somewhere, right now?"

"Thanks to your psychotic friend and my self-sacrificing brother, I am now the poster boy for perfect health," he responded coolly, all but squeezing into the seat right next to the Henry girl.

She visibly tensed, knowing he'd overheard most of their conversation. Coupled with the fact that everyone knew of Charlotte's dream involving the very Original they were talking about, it was fitting that Damon was the first to start pointing an accusatory finger in her direction.

"He's not my friend, you old fart," she snapped, rolling her eyes as she brought her iced tea to her lips. "Go pay some property taxes or something."

The blue-eyed man scoffed. "You've been fantasizing about a guy who's over a thousand years old, and I'm the old fart?" he quipped in response, an unimpressed look on his face.

At that point, all of Charlotte's deep-rooted distaste for the man bubbled up to the surface. She suspected Stefan filled in the blanks for him regarding her dreams, given that she was sure the likes of Caroline and Tyler certainly didn't fess up about it. Her hand slammed against the wooden table when she turned to address him. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Caroline's eyes widened as she looked at her friend, which was something the Henry girl hadn't caught as she stared at Damon.

How could she have known her eyes flickered a golden hue for a split second? It wasn't like there was a mirror held before her.

"So easy to anger," he said with a quirked brow, like he was digging for something. "Reminds me of someone else we know, right Care-bear?"

Caroline seemed to know what he was digging for, apparently, judging from the way she kicked his shin with her foot. "Give it a rest, Damon."

She tried, but no one could ever really persuade Damon Salvatore, now could they. "How do we know she hasn't been conspiring against us this whole time? All I'm saying is that—"

Charlotte stood abruptly, reaching into her pocket to dig out a crumpled ten dollar bill before throwing it onto the wooden table. She spared the blonde a glance. "I'll text you."

The Forbes girl had a look of sympathy on her face. "Charlie—"

The girl was gone in an instant, leaving the table without so much as a glance back to the eldest Salvatore. She could handle a lot, but Damon just had a way of getting under people's skins.

Charlotte evidently learnt that the hard way once again. Truly, she had never had a pleasant interaction with him, ever.

Once she was gone, he leaned across the table. "Did you see that?" Damon asked with a look of smugness on his face.

"Of course I saw that," was Caroline's rushed response, watching as the brunette stormed out of the grill. "But I thought Elena told you to stop with the conspiracy theories."

"Oh, she did," he responded, sitting back against the seat comfortably before he reached across to pocket the crumpled up bill, "but the last time I saw eyes like that, Tyler Lockwood bit the crap out of me."

Caroline hesitated, because even she couldn't deny what she'd just seen. Even she couldn't deny that the Henry girl had once been just as affected by the Gilbert device as Tyler had.

"What exactly are you trying to say, Damon?" Caroline questioned, arms crossing over her chest as her stiff posture radiated utter protectiveness over her friend.

He shrugged, eyes flickering to the door that the brunette had exited from.

"Maybe your friend isn't so human after all."

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

[ wyn's note ]

longer chapter but omg... damon is plotting and klaus is plotting and everyone is plotting rn.

we're gonna have a time jump between this chap and the next, as we officially head into season three! STRAP TF IN!

all my love x