I wonder why (I didn't see it there before?)
A/N: Welcome back! Hello again, to all you wonderful readers. If you haven't read the previous fic 'Something There (that wasn't there before?)', please do. It will definitely enrich this story.
One Month
"Ass."
"Don't expect special privileges just because you're my girlfriend, Bon-bon."
She speaks to his smirk, "Then don't expect me to stop calling you ass."
Damon folds an arm around her waist to pull her against his chest. He leaves a kiss in her hair and whispers, "Have I ever told you that I love you?"
And Bonnie's smile, reflexive and playful, twitches. "Took you long enough."
They're sitting on the floor, against the coach, the vampire's conquered monopoly board at their feet because somethings never change. A week ago, she'd stood in the Boarding House drive-way and listened to Damon Salvatore tell her she's sexy, smart, magical, and completely in-love. Then, he'd poured into her, and Bonnie to him, daring, insatiable. Bonnie screamed as he picked her up, dizzy with the kiss and laughing at them, their infuriating timeline.
"Stop laughing, you're ruining the moment," Damon hissed but his mouth betrayed him, stretching his lips in a grin. He pushed the front door open with his foot, the hallway dark and silent.
"I'm sorry, am I ruining your James Bond-esque fantasy?"
The skin around his eyes folded as he smirked, his eyes trailing over her frame. Bonnie shivered, her laughter dissolved, and the vampire licked his lips, as if tasting her proliferated heart-rate. He really did know how to do sexy. "That depends, Miss Bennett," he breathed; his words curled around her neck.
"Damon-"
His motion cut her short, releasing her from the air. She fell back against the door, staring up at him in a fevered anticipation. She blinked and he was capturing her; an intensity they hadn't shared before, not like this. This was like fire and her magic burned with it, collecting to a crescendo. Damon's right hand was on the door, the other steering her into his kiss. She slid up his neck, taking his hair in her fingers and the moan that fell on to her lips sent a tremor to her core. The vampire lunged forward, his arms tensing with the upheaval as he held her up, suspended, against the wood. It was like nothing she'd ever experienced, wild and made electric by her magic, Damon's strength. He dropped her lips and she gasped, inhaling air that wasn't him, as he kissed her neck, her collar bone, below. Bonnie closed her eyes, her fingers coiling in his hair, teasing him further.
"You're glowing," he whispered and Bonnie stilled. Damon drew up to study her, the blue of his eyes sharp and raw with… desire. "Fuck, you're beautiful."
"It's the magic," she replied and Damon touched a finger to her lips, drawing a line so slow it held her breath captive.
"You're magic."
The vampire prods her cheek, peeling Bonnie away from the memory. "Your heart is racing." She doesn't respond and Damon curves his neck to study her, a smirk teasing. "You're blushing."
"I'm not," she replies but her gaze twists to the front-door and Damon chuckles.
"Ah. That." He flirts with her hair, long fingers flicking and turning the strands, "You know, Bon-bon. We could," his fingers creep up her neck, arching upwards and fluttering her eyes close, "re-create that night."
It takes all her effort to pull away. Damon is proving to be intoxicating, even more so now he's available, no objections, completely devoted to her. "I can't. I've got to meet Caroline."
He flops his head on the cushions with a groan. Bonnie rolls her eyes, "Needy."
Damon pouts, "It's not my fault you don't want to move in."
"We've been together a week Damon."
The vampire raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "And we've been in loveeeee for so much longer. We were just being stubborn about it."
Bonnie stands, tugging on her jacket which is, incidentally, stuck under Damon's ass. He doesn't move. "You're forgetting that," she yanks again, "you were with," a final yank and it's released, "Elena that entire time." Damon doesn't respond and Bonnie sighs, "She's still my friend Damon, and I know you still care about her. I can't just move in here and take her place. Not yet."
"We lived together in the prison world," he grumbles and sometimes (a lot of the time) he really is just difficult for the sake of it.
"I'll call you later," she says instead, leaning towards him for a kiss goodbye but of course, her boyfriend has pressed his lips shut in a very unresponsive line.
And yet, as she turns the handle, he's there, vamp-speed, one hand on the door to keep it closed.
"Damon, I'm not a prisoner-" Bonnie sighs but he cuts her sentence, a habit he seems to have assumed, and steals her mouth.
Well, then.
/
Damon's pathetic when he's in love. He's well aware. He goes from vampire to wow-look-at-the-moon-and-are-those-geraniums? in an instant; like a humanity switch, the world turns on. Even his blood-lust lessens, manifesting in a different, Bonnie Bennet sized form. The thing with Bonnie, is that she doesn't need him, she just wants him, and sometimes, that's a difficult concept for him to understand. He's used to being needed by women. Like Katherine, even Elena, it's the only kind of love he'd known – obsessive. Maybe that's why Bon-bon had crept up on him? With all her laughs and butterflies, banter and eye-rolls…. They built and built until suddenly (not to Stefan's surprise), he's fucking love-drunk.
Most of the time, he's debating whether to make her laugh or moan – and he's been known to do both at once - but Bonnie doesn't need him, she loves him, but he's not her survival, and he's learning, after over a century and a half, that the latter makes a healthy relationship.
Damon tips the scotch down his throat and sighs. He's trying, he really is. He resists the urge to text her, call her, and he's trying not to care that she won't move in yet… even when it tears him up, climbing into an empty bed when the woman he loves is in another. The witch is on his mind 24/7, it's an exercise in restraint not to jump in his Camaro and steal her from her dorm-room. Being a witch, she'd probably do the exploding brain thing.
He'd confided in Stefan the other night. His brother was back from another three-day stint at Whitmore and was cleaning the kitchen, clearly Carolinized.
"It's been three weeks," Damon scowled. "How long is it going to take?"
"She's not just going to drop everything, Damon," Stefan replied, swiping his cloth across the counter-top. "She's at college. Plenty of people go to college with relationships at home."
"Yes, but it's us, Stefan. The epic romance. Haters, friends, lovers. You know the drill."
"And? Does that mean Bonnie's not allowed her own life?"
Alright, Mr Feminist. Damon glared at his brother's back, "I never said that."
"You're forgetting, I've seen you be in love three times. Katherine, Elena and now Bonnie. Does this time feel different?"
"You know it does."
"Well, there's your answer."
"Have I told you that you're annoyingly righteous?"
Stefan grinned, "Just a few times."
And so, according to his relationship-guru brother, this was good. Unfortunately, good felt a lot like utter shit. Bonnie spends weekends with him, Friday afternoon to Monday morning and then a couple of evenings a week, he'll drive to Whitmore… unannounced. He'll kiss her before she can protest and the laugh that tumbles into his mouth sends the butterflies into chaos (because nope, they don't go). He's a text-book romantic – picnics, making out in the rain, hand holding, he's accepted he's John Green trash now, and, of course, expert seduction. He did all these things with Elena but with Bonnie, they're made alive.
He'll open a box of strawberries and she'll roll her eyes, call him a cliché, but snatch the fruit out of his hand anyway and complain they're not chocolate covered. She'll erupt in laughter at his sexy-talk and other times, bite her lip, her heart, skin, everything, pulsing in longing. And she'll get angry, hands on her hips, fixing him with a glare when they're bickering crosses a line. He's learning to apologise, in his Damon-way, and her eyes will soften, a silly smile swinging across her face and sometimes he'll kiss it away, sometimes he'll make a joke to push it into a grin.
His phone pings and it's Bonnie.
There's a party tonight and I'd really like my boyfriend there.
And the butterflies go crazy. Fucking thirteen-year old.
Better ask your boyfriend then.
You're such a dad.
He begins to reply when Bonnie messages again:
Don't respond to that.
Wouldn't dream of it. What time do you want your sexy boyfriend to arrive?
Arrogance will get old one day, Damon.
Vampire, Bon-bon. Not happening. Time?
Come for 9. Love you.
And I love it when you say that.
;)
Damon blows the hair on his forehead. This woman is going to be the death of me.
/
"I'm surprised you invited him," Caroline's voice comes from inside the closet, "it being a frat party and everything."
Bonnie applies another coat of black to her nails. "Why wouldn't invite my boyfriend to a party?"
The blonde leans out the closet, her arms full of potential dresses. "Um because it's Damon, and he was possessive even before you were together."
"Hmm."
At this, Caroline darts towards her and shit, she'll never get used to the sudden movement. "Bonnie Bennett, do you want him to be possessive?" The blonde's eyes sparkle, "You like it, don't you?"
Yes, and I'm a terrible person.
"I just… ugh he's really hot when he gets all protective," she turns back to her nails, "I'm not proud of it."
Caroline laughs. "To be honest, after all he put you through, I get it. And that does sound pretty hot."
She scrunches her nose up in thought and Bonnie points a finger, "Don't you think about doing that to poor Stefan. He can't handle it."
"Fineeeee. Now choose your weapon." She thrusts two dresses up in the air, "Black, or red?"
…
At 8: 45 Damon knocks, impatiently as always.
"Does he always have to knock so freaking loud?" In the mirror, Caroline winces. She's lining her eyes in kohl, her hair loose and tousled.
"Heard that," drawls the vampire behind the door and Bonnie opens it before her friend can retort.
His eyes perform a kind of dance, indulging in her dress, she went for the red, and igniting a simmering flame under her skin. "Damn."
"If you're going to make out, can you take it outside?" Caroline quips.
Bonnie looks away from the vampire in the doorframe, tempting a heat. "We're not, don't worry."
"We're not?"
Her mouth flinches with a smile and she tugs on his shirt sleeve, black, of course, pulling him into the dorm. "Where's Stefan?"
"Picking up booze." Damon nods in Caroline's direction, "Looking good, Blondie." He jumps on Bonnie's bed, legs crossed, an arm behind his head, surveying the scene and yes, Bonnie too thinks damn.
It's still a surreal feeling – touching him, holding his hand, kissing him. The vampire she'd fallen in love with, silently, unwittingly, now hers to love without shame. Almost. The guilt of Elena still bubbled sometimes.
"So," Damon sighs, "What wonderful college party do we have the pleasure of gracing tonight?"
Caroline glances at Bonnie in the mirror, her mouth quirked. "It's at a frat."
Her boyfriend's eyebrows rise so high, they almost disappear and Bonnie has to swallow her smirk. "A frat!? We're going to some horny football players trash house?"
"Soccer actually," Caroline corrects him and Damon's mouth drops open.
"That's worse! Wanna be Europeans."
Bonnie makes the mistake of catching the blonde's eye and Damon is scowling, ready to protest, when Stefan pushes open the door, holding a bottle of whiskey under one arm, and gin under the other, his brow raised. "What's this about Europeans?"
/
His hand tightens around Bonnie's, as they cross the threshold (luckily it was the owner who opened the door). He's right, the house is trash, and reeks of weed and entitled, sweaty college boys.
"I didn't drink enough bourbon for this," he whispers into his girlfriend's ear.
Bonnie prods him in the torso. "Don't be grumpy. It'll be fun."
They're greeted by some obnoxious whoops and hollers and Damon stiffens. This is going to be a long night. He's all down for parties, especially parties with Bonnie and her dangerously sexy dance moves, but frat parties - a red cup is shoved under his nose, cheap beer, duh – they are easily one the worst things about America.
"Bonnie!"
Damon glares at the dude engulfing the witch in a hug, even more so when she hugs him back. They pull away and he clears his throat, asserting his presence to whoever the fuck this soccer player was.
"Dylan, this is Damon."
Dylan looks at Damon with narrowed eyes and he remembers why he looks so familiar, in more than just the typical-frat-boy way. He's the 'just a friend' from the day he came to Whitmore, the day Damon kissed her up that tree, the day he fucked up.
"You're the guy that…" he glances at their entwinned hands in surprise and Damon relishes in the small victory, not that there's any competition with a frat boy really.
"Boyfriend," he smiles, icy and petty but when has he ever been anything but?
"I'll catch you later, Dylan," Bonnie says tightly, and yanks on his arm.
Damon rolls his eyes. "You can't seriously be pissed with me, Bon."
And then she kisses him, sudden and hungry. Damon's so surprised, he stumbles back. Very un-Bonnie like.
She pulls away, a little breathless, embarrassed. "Sorry I-"
He lifts an eyebrow, "You don't ever need to be sorry for doing that, Witchy."
Bonnie runs a hand through her hair and she really does look incredibly sexy in red. "Let's go dance."
"Happily."
The couches in the living room are pushed back, creating a space for dancing, well, grinding. The college lads and lasses are not exactly at cotillion. He smirks at Stefan's pathetic attempt and is about to let him know how ridiculous he looks when Bonnie knots her hand in his, and, without breaking eye contact, snakes to the ground and back up again. Oh.
"You wanna play that game," Damon smirks. "Don't you remember what happened last time, Bon-bon?" She still hasn't admitted it, even now, how affected she was by his dancing at Stefan's birthday.
Bonnie smirks back. "Please, I was being reserved."
He lifts his arm and she spins, pulling flush against him with a laugh that melts under the song and into his chest. They blend together, the vampire and the witch, twisting with the beat. Damon traces his girlfriend's hips, resisting her exposed neck, even with Mr Soccer-Dick Dylan eyeing them from across the room.
Bonnie unravels from his chest, throwing her hands in the air to dance alone and he grins, the witch consuming his gaze. That is, until, his vamp-hearing catches a mumble. It sets his blood on fire and he pivots, stalking towards three guys by a keg-stand.
"Your girlfriend's a good little dancer," the tallest one laughs, lifting his beer as if to cheers.
Damon fights the impulse to rip his head off. "I heard what you said."
The tallest laughs to his friends, "And what did I say?"
He takes a step forward, fingers curled into fists to keep them from pinning the dick against the wall. Capturing the guys eyes in his, he speaks clearly, compelling, "You will never speak about a woman like that, again. Do you understand?"
"I will never speak about a woman like that again," the man parrots and Damon nods, satisfied. Almost. "Now, pour the beer over your head."
He turns, back towards his girlfriend, eager to join her swishing to Sean Paul, but stops. Fucking Dylan. The dude has slunk onto the dance floor in all his slimy glory, and – Damon's jaw clenches – has the audacity to take her hand and spin her around. Bonnie glances at him, he catches it, then back to the dude, a flirtatious smile in her mouth. Seriously!?
Damon inhales, enraged. Boyfriend or not, he isn't just going to stand here and look like a fool. If Bonnie wants Saggy Soccer Balls, she can have him. He has worse rhythm than Stefan. He pushes through the corridor, needing air unpolluted by the stench of frat boy arousal. He feels a hand touch his arm, and he turns, half-expecting it to be Bonnie, but he's met with brown eyes, not green. The girl lifts her lashes, almost Elena like – pretty, brunette and not the witch.
"Not interested, sorry."
She bites her lip, clearly ready to use every trick in the book (a book he wrote). "Shame. You're easily the hottest guy here."
Damon almost laughs. "I know."
/
Her plan-backfired. Karma, obviously. Damon didn't just get jealous, he got mad or sad, possibly both, and Bonnie feels awful. What a dick. One minute they were dancing and the next, he disappeared and Dylan was there, complimenting her dress. When she turned, Damon was watching and it was too tempting… even his glare made her shiver.
"Care, have you seen Damon?"
The blonde pulls back from Stefan with a giggle, her lipstick smudged. "Nope. I'm surprised he left you alone."
Bonnie sighs, edging past dancing couples and frat boy leers, intent on finding her boyfriend. She'd hurt him; the thought makes her nauseous. Having left her phone in his pocket, Bonnie resorts to asking around. Mainly the girls, as someone like Damon doesn't walk into a room (or out of it) unnoticed.
"The sexy guy? That's your boyfriend? Wow. Lucky you."
Bonnie smiles, her patience thinning with every response. Yes, Damon is hot as hell and yes, he is my boyfriend and no, I can't find him.
"You're looking for Damon, right?" Dylan has his arms folded, unimpressed. "You know, it's kind of a dickish thing to do, leaving you at a party."
She ignores the comment. "Do you know where he is?"
Dylan sighs. "He's in the front yard." Bonnie nods, relieved and he grabs her arm. "Bonnie, wait, be careful. I just don't trust him."
"Noted." And she yanks away from him.
…
Outside is dark and heavy with the scent of weed and cigarettes but sure enough, brooding on a wall, is Damon Salvatore. Bonnie swallows. "Hey, stranger." He doesn't respond. She leaps up beside him and slips her fingers between his, squeezing gently. "Are you okay?"
"Fine."
"Damon, I-"
"Am I joke to you?"
"What?"
He still hasn't looked at her, his eyes sharp around some point on the horizon. "You heard me."
"Damon, with Dylan, I was just being selfish and-"
"It's not just about Dylan."
"Then…?" she pauses, "Oh. It's about the house again, isn't it?"
And again, he doesn't respond. Bonnie closes her eyes, her mouth stumbling over the words, "I just… I think we should take it slow."
Damon snaps his gaze to hers, fierce and indignant. "I don't understand. We're in love," he pales, tentative, "At least, I thought we were."
"We are," Bonnie runs her thumb over his hand. You idiot. "It's because I love you that I don't want to rush anything. We've… we've got the rest of our lives." She speaks that last part with uncertainty; Damon is enough for her but will she always be enough for him? It pains her, to entertain a world where Damon Salvatore isn't her centre.
"Bonnie, I've known you for six years… six years where I could have had this," he lifts their joined hands for emphasis.
"You would have given up Elena for me?"
"Yes. Anything."
"Bullshit."
Damon blinks, startled and Bonnie lifts her eyes to the sky, a smile in her words. "We both know what makes our relationship work is the build-up. Me trying to kill you, you being a dick –"
"The banter," the vampire interrupts, a smile forming too, "the prison world, you falling in love with my pancakes first –"
"Drunk flirting –"
"How could I forget Derek the sexy vampire?"
"That horrible double date."
"We're quite angsty, aren't we Bon-bon?"
He untangles from her hand, touching a finger to her cheek, her nose, her lips. They part beneath the contact, instinctive. "1864 Damon," she breathes, "Mr Salvatore."
"Hmm," he hums, "Corset Bonnie."
She pulls away, brow raised. "Is that all you think about?"
Damon shakes his head, the liar. "No. But finding my girlfriend attractive is hardly a crime, is it?"
And it's the same smirk he's had for years, all six of them, teasing her, infuriating her, except now, she can kiss it.
A/N: Ahh I so hope this satisfied! New chapter will be coming soon… I'm excited. Please do review and follow me on tumblr: perpetualimaginings.
Also, I want to ask what your opinion would be on a chapter or segment of a chapter from Elena's POV? Just one, don't worry, but it could be interesting to explore… Let me know!
P.S. I listened to the Beauty and The Beast song 'Something There' to find the title for this fic and omggg the lyrics fit so well with Bamon *cries*.