As I stepped out of the shower behind Damon, he reached for a bathrobe – a hot pink one – and handed it to me. He grabbed a dark mauve one for himself, using a bit of his magic to put his name on the robe so I wouldn't use it. My robe also had my name on it.
I had noticed at the spa, where I'd had a few saunas, that the other girls, the older ones, the grown-up ones, also named their robes; Mariella did too, so it wasn't just me.
Damon took a dark green, thick towel and dried his hair with it, using one hand. He then gave me a bright yellow one so I could wrap my huge mane of hair. My hair, once again, reached well below my ass; it was very long, thick, and curly, making it hard to maintain, but my husband usually took care of it.
Damon said, "Well, let's dry up and get ready for movie night. I know you have some decent 'shit' for us for blood, so I didn't get any more, but I got us a bit more treats and such."
We exited the bathroom, and a surprise welcomed me. Our color theme had changed a bit. My light blue, shimmering satin curtains now boasted darker hues, decorated with thick golden swirls and shimmering glitter, bringing a bit more elegance to the room.
The rugs were now dark blue to black, thick, soft, and they too had golden or silvery swirls and markings on them. The bed had changed too; it was an exact copy of our original bed in Chicago, our very first bedroom together, which Damon had made for us. He had once again put his stamp on this room, making it ours.
Next to piles of clothes for me were now stacks of male clothes. He had gotten himself new clothes as well, but to my surprise, they weren't typical of what he usually wore. Instead, he had gotten them from one of my male clothing storage rooms.
I had a bit of a different collection of clothing there, as Adam, the boys, and sometimes Charles liked to wear certain types of pants, not just jeans.
Damon said to me, "Yeah, I got myself new clothes. I must admit, I was surprised by your clothing storage. I mean, sure, I've mostly used jeans, satin shirts, and t-shirts, but I had no idea you had such a diverse selection."
He walked to a pile of clothes, grabbed a pair of chinos, and took them out of their packaging. They were high-end, made of 25% silk, cotton, and a bit of angora. Since they weren't summer versions, they were a mid-blue and very stylish—the type Adam loved to wear.
"What kind of pants are these?" he muttered, digging for information. "No dress slacks, no yoga pants, but the material is wonderful. Oh, wow, silk, angora, baby! Why haven't you told me or shown me sooner?"
I replied, "They are chinos, Adam, and boys like to wear them. These are the winter versions; there are lighter summer versions as well. I tried to get as diverse a selection for the males as possible."
Damon muttered, "Well, Adam isn't the only one using these. These are mine, and I guess others might use them as well."
He then took out a button-down shirt, not satin but again partially silk, cotton, and a bit of linen. It was a high-end shirt, something Charles also liked to wear, and the shirt was dark green, his favorite color.
Damon shook the shirt out and checked what it was made of, grunting happily as he also checked the size.
"This seems nice. I know satin looks good, but it's not always as comfortable to wear. These, however, are perfect."
He opened the dresser, started piling our clothes, and said to me, "Sit your ass down. I'll put our clothes here, and then I'll get your hair. I'll select your nightgown as well, but as you know, I'll be naked."
I rolled my eyes; I did know that.
He worked efficiently, opening packages, piling his clothes to one side, and then proceeding to my side. He checked what I had gotten for myself and, as far as I could see, he had brought more stuff for me: skirts, lacy panties, and button-down shirts. These weren't just comfy and loose but stylish items again.
There were also piles of dresses, not too loose or shapeless, but what I could see would be form-fitting. They weren't in boring colors or patterns like polka dots, brown, grey, or beige, but rather colorful and seductive dresses.
Our eldest girls liked to use polka dots and those boring colors, but the Salvatores were quite eager to change their dresses and outfits as well, not letting them drape their perfect bodies in some old woman's home dress, but in modern, sleek, stylish clothes.
I had no idea what he might have Mariella wear if he were to examine the women's clothing storage. There were tons of new clothes, not just the skirts and satin shirts that Mariella mostly wore, or the occasional satin dress.
For me, he chose a nightgown; however, it was shorter than what I would normally wear. It was a pink silk teddy with black lace. I would have hoped my husband could maintain control if I wore something like this, but he had made the choice.
He said, "Go on, get dressed. There's a partition there; I've almost finished organizing our wardrobe. Then I'll do your hair, and we can have movie night."
I took the towel from my hair, shaking it loose, and left it on the bed in case he wanted to dry my hair further. I picked up the garment and went behind the partition. Taking off my robe, I slipped this tiny piece of fabric over my slender body. It barely reached my mid-thigh and had a very generous neckline. I felt rather exposed. While I am a passionate woman and not against passion in bed, movies and treats sounded perfect as well.
As I walked back to bed, I noticed my towel had been put away. Just then, Damon snatched my bathrobe from my grip, returning it to the bathroom.
"Sit your ass down," he said at the same time.
The chair was still pulled out near the makeup table, so I sat there. Damon soon returned and began to blow-dry and brush my hair.
"Those chinos are perfect," he commented. "Where in hell did you get them from?"
"Well," I began, "since they're a bit unisex, I bought some smart casual outfits for myself back in the day when I needed to be presentable. Then, as Charles came along and I started buying clothes for him, I got him chinos. I noticed Adam wore something similar, but I opted for high-end brands like Armani, in different colors too. There was no need for a full suit jacket, as I got Adam some shirt jackets, also high-end, so he could wear them to meetings. This way, he wouldn't have to be so stiff, and they're easier to clean and maintain. I got creative, attending many fairs and spending time in malls, really getting to know men's wear."
Damon grunted, and I could feel his telepathy buzzing in my mind, seeking and searching my memories. Wulfe was online as well. It seemed that Adam's and my relationship, along with the Salvatores', bothered Damon, and especially my "cuddlebugs" were very jealous.
I explained, "Well, as Damien did what he did, I never bought you much clothing because it was harmful for me. Then, since Mariella came along, it seemed you had your own style, so it wasn't really my place to butt in. But for now, some of the Salvatores are more than happy to have me choose clothes for them. For example, Ten found some high-end clothes in my cellar storage that I had gotten for Adam and the boys. Since you all are pretty much the same size, he took them for himself and the rest of the Salvatores."
Damon grunted again and said, "Good to know. Anyway, we need to check the clothes and make sure they are suitable for different weathers and occasions. As you know, no garment will stay pristine forever; washing and using them wears them out."
He then began weaving my hair into a braided system, taking tiny sections, braiding them, and then looping the rest of my hair through the loops of those braids. He seemed satisfied, as this was always his specialty.
I wasn't sure if braiding Mariella's or the girls' hair gave him the same satisfaction. Of course, he bit my throat, making my hair even more blood-red, ensuring it was perfect, even though we were just going to watch movies.
After some time, he finished my hair, creating an elegant bun with braided accents. He then stepped away, putting all sorts of doggy products back into a box and sending it somewhere.
"Okay, let's get to bed and watch movies, with some treats as well," he said.
I got up, walked to my side of the bed, and settled into a perfect position. Damon then removed the towel wrapped around his hips and joined me in bed. We shared one large blanket, with no chance of having our own, but we were comfortable sharing and being together.
He dug out my blood bags, poured some of my blood into the tall glasses he had brought, and added a bit of vodka, making the drinks potent.
As I opened the TV and selected the first movie, "Conspiracy Theory," he handed me my glass. I hadn't told him what the movie was about, wanting him to discover it for himself without any spoilers.
We sipped our drinks, and he refilled our glasses several times. I began to feel quite relaxed. Damon watched the movie intensely, and although we didn't talk much, he seemed to enjoy its quirks, like the black, whisper-moded helicopters.
He wasn't mocking anything, but at one point, he remarked softly, "I mean, a lot of this makes sense. I know there are always conspiracies, as you do too, but I can't help but think if movie makers had met someone like this main character, the conspiracy theorist, perhaps even they would be a bit secretive."
I simply shrugged. For me, it was just a fun movie, and I had to admit, I hadn't seen it since I was human, centuries ago. Watching it again, it still had its charm.
Damon wasn't overly seductive, as he was focused on the movie. When it finally ended, I put on the next one, "Space Cowboys." I was too relaxed to choose "Armageddon" and didn't want to get as emotional as that movie would have made me.
I had reserved quite a lot of blood, and Damon had gotten a generous amount of Supernatural-proof vodka, so he was eager to make us drinks. We ate all sorts of treats, sipping one drink after another, relaxing and commenting on the movies' aspects and how well the roles were played.
At one point, Damon said as he handed me yet another drink, "I mean, baby, these are fun movies, but I have to admit, I've never wanted to be an astronaut or go to space. Not my thing."
I raised an eyebrow; his voice was slightly slurred. He sounded almost melancholic, and I replied, "Not mine either, actually. I had very few plans for my future when I was young, and then life just went along. Everything happened – good and bad, memories, lessons, losses, new skills."
Damon grunted and admitted, "I had few aspirations as well. Well, I was good-looking, vain, and I knew I could get anyone. Then, being a vampire didn't really make me want an actual career. I found my skills useful in certain situations, but for real devotion to work, that never happened for me."
I hummed and said, "Well, my work is what I'm good at – being a leader, a killer, whatnot. But now, I'm trying to learn to be a wife, a mother, and God knows what else, and I'm not good at this, not yet anyway," I confessed.
My mind buzzed, and I wasn't sure if I was slurring my words. If I were, screw it, I didn't care. I could handle some inebriation from time to time. I was the one pulling this damn pack along, so I could relax and let others take care of it. Then, when I was good and ready, I would once again see where we were and what needed to be done.
Damon commented, "I mean, these movies are fun, and it's fucking hilarious to get drunk with you, eat, and watch all these movies I had no idea about, all while seeing which one of us will pass out first."
I rolled my eyes, sipped my drink, and replied, "Oh, competition, right, babyboy? Maybe I ought to make your drink next."
I took his empty glass, poured a good amount of vodka into it, and then bit into my wrist, adding my blood to the mix. As I was already drunk, my blood had a bit of a kick to it, along with a bit of Dark Elf King's blood. Then, I dug out a small bag of Demon King's blood, which was fucking strong, and added a splash of that to Damon's glass before finally handing it to him.
"Have at it, it's tasty," I said.
He then proceeded to make me a mix, using his blood and my bags of blood, along with a few generous dashes of vodka and tequila. It seemed we had some sort of competition going on, and right now, I didn't care if I won or not; this was just too much fun.
After an hour or two, once we were both quite drunk and the movie had ended, I wasn't sure if I'd put on another film or pass out.
I turned to him and said, "Have you ever drunk tainted nephilim blood? It doesn't have much of an effect on me, but it has a damn hilarious effect on *me*."
"Nopes," Damon slurred, his eyes slightly crossed and his coordination off. "Tell me, babe."
He had clearly returned the favor after I'd made him quite a few potent mixes.
"It makes me," I explained, trying to convey the sensation, "pissed off as shit, but because it's also angelic, it gives this really nice euphoria. That means it's hilarious to feel this damn euphoria and be pissed off as shit at the same time."
Damon giggled drunkenly. "Well, Mimi, maybe someday you'll let me taste it as well. It seems you're quite a connoisseur of bloods."
He raised his fingers as he spoke, but his drunkenness made his gestures a bit clumsy.
"Well, I have," I said, also drunk, "gone to a lot of, I mean, fucking many fight clubs. Those are where you hit with your fists and kill everyone."
I gestured, though my own coordination was questionable.
"I like to taste there, to see who is tasty and who gives a nice hit. Not everyone is useful. Say, a multiplication demon crossed with an elemental? You know what multiplication demon's blood does – it gets your libido soaring. Add to that the hot burn of a fire elemental, and the arousal turns into a burning sensation. It's not nice to fight when you feel like your cunt is on fire."
Damon giggled, patted me on the back, and handed me another glass.
"Good girl, drink up. No need to get worked up, just drink your elixir, my love."
I took the glass and downed half of it in one go. It burned like a bitch going down my gullet, but then the nice heat turned into an even more buzzed state, and I flopped against the pillows, sipping a bit more.
"Hmm, this is tasty shit," I muttered.
Or at least, that was my intention, but my mouth wasn't really cooperating, so I guessed it was quite a slur that came out.
This was an enjoyable night, and nothing bothered me. We were just sitting or lying on the bed, drinking, seeing which one of us would pass out first. We weren't really competing, just drinking. Not singing, though. Yeah, life was good once again.