Seventy One

In the evening, when they had gone home after seeing Mason, Raven stood in front of the open fridge, her brow furrowed as she searched the shelves. Damon leaned against the kitchen door frame, watching her.

"Something wrong?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.

Raven slammed the fridge door shut, her eyes glistening with tears. "There's no ice cream," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Damon quickly crossed the room; concern etched on his face. "Hey, it’s just ice cream. We can get more tomorrow," he said, his voice calm and reassuring.

But Raven wasn’t having it. She sat on the floor, her back against the fridge as she sobbed. "I just wanted some ice cream, Damon," she choked out between sobs. "Why can’t I just have that? I want Mason, but he's in a coma, and now I want ice cream, I can't have that either?"

Without hesitation, Damon crouched beside her. He gently rubbed her back, his voice soothing as he spoke. "It's okay, Raven. I’ll go get some right now if you want.