Damon's P.O.V
"But you're mad now," I state, making her eyebrows pull together as her foot taps furiously against the ground.
"I'm not mad at you." She manages after a moment.
"But you are mad?"
"No. I'm not mad." She says dropping the fork and leaning back into her chair. She pulls her legs up beneath her and runs a hand through her hair. Frustration rippling off of her in waves as she shifts uncomfortably until she finally settles with a sigh, placing her arm against her knee. "I don't really know. I'm just confused."
I bite my tongue to stop from pressing any further, not when there was so much distress tumbling from her as she looked up at me as if I held the answers but I didn't hold shit.
I place my own fork down gently and fold my arms against the table. Watching her and waiting patiently for her to continue when she was ready to.
