Wren
I wasn't sure what made me stay downstairs.
Maybe it was the wine, now half-gone. Maybe it was the fact that I had nowhere else to be. But after a whole day of not having to worry about anyone, not about Damon or Liam or whatever weird dynamic we were building between us, I found myself on the couch in the dim light, watching TV and laughing at a rerun of Modern Family.
It was a normal Saturday night. Normal for me, anyway. The house was quiet. The air smelled faintly of lemon cookies Vivian's homemade, no doubt and there was a kind of stillness in the air. The kind that was hard to ignore.
I was curled up with the blanket Damon had thrown over me one morning. He didn’t know it, but I’d been using it every weekend when I was here. Something about it made me feel close to him, even
