Natalie

Breakfast didn't go as planned this morning. Damon woke up and decided to check the package I carelessly flung into his closet when I got back. He called me, asking where it was, and I nonchalantly told him it was in his closet before returning to the kitchen to check on my toast. But then he opened it and saw that the Victoria's Secret perfume he bought had broken, ruining the cheap white dinner dress in the box that I think he bought for Penelope.

The dress is cheap for a reason; I mean, why would a supposed $900 dress—as he claimed—turn black at the slightest contact with liquid? It's ridiculous.

It's my fault, I know, but honestly who the fuck care.

Right! No one, because Damon is an Alpha Douchebag who's power only surfaces in the present of women.

He got seriously angry, called me in, and threw a piece of the broken perfume vial at me. I ended up with a pretty deep scratch on my forehead. Now I'm sitting in front of my vanity table and mirror after Zara treated the cut before I