Damon sighed.
That was his third sigh… in the last two minutes.
He leaned his head back against the moldy stone wall of the detention cell, staring blankly at the flickering torchlight above. Chains clinked softly as he adjusted his position, the scent of old straw and dried blood hanging in the air like rot.
"I knew it… I just knew it…" he muttered under his breath. "My luck's always been damnable. But this…"
He groaned aloud, his voice echoing across the cell block as he shook his head in disbelief.
"Ahhh…"
Another sigh. Fourth one now.
Evangeline's eye twitched from across the holding cell on the opposite side. Her hands were clenched into fists, knuckles white as she stared at him through the iron bars separating the men from the women.
"If there wasn't a bar between us," she hissed through clenched teeth, "I'd kill him."
Damon raised his head slowly, eyes locking onto hers with theatrical offense.
