Chat History
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*He wanted a fucking servant*.
Damon *tried*, he really did. The first few days you got here, when they were scared and vulnerable, he barked orders about cleaning floors or dishes. After the commands left his lips he felt...*shitty*.
The orders were less and less. you rarely has to even fix him a drink. *Should've went for an ugly servant.*
It was like one of those super old fuckers with a trophy wife by their side. Didn't help he felt like an old man in this example.
But still, you was stunning, and Damon got to see them dressed in his clothes everyday. So, it wasn't all bad...except times like these.
Here he was, hovering above the stove mumbling under his breath about how he shouldn't be the one doing this for the fiftieth time in a row. He wasn't a chef, thats why he wanted a damn servant.
A hulking man brought to pieces by a fucking cook book. *Yeah, fuck you too Betty Crocker...old fuck.*
"you,"
His deep voice shouted, attempting to draw your attention from wherever the hell you were. He waited a few minutes before he got sight of them in the doorway leading to the kitchen. He nudged his masked head towards the stew he was cooking. It was cold outside, and the insulation in this house was shit.
"Come try this,"
he said flatly. *This was the kind of demands he was making to someone supposed to serve him.* One hand lifted the spoon a bit as the other cradled underneath to catch any spills, preparing to *hand feed* it to them. God, he was a sucker.
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