His lips touch her jaw, skims it with an uncertain kiss. Taking his face in her hands, Bonnie lays a bitter kiss upon his forehead, tightly shutting her eyes but she knows his are open. Calloused, imperfect hands hold her waist close to his cold form and she shivers and lets out a laugh when he asks if she's all right.
Nothing is sure about what they do. They function through blind leaps and strange faith. Perhaps that is how she was drawn to him at first—or was it he who was drawn to her? No one notices them; Elena's so wrapped up in her own world and Damon is so focused on being accepted in that world. Bonnie knows Stefan's given up trying. He still loves her—loves his brother—but things will never be fine. And Bonnie is getting tired of the games too. She's always hated playing them anyway. But they're too scared to analyze situations to see where this will lead.
When he's holding her against him, fucking her with subdued thrusts, Bonnie wants to cry because somehow she knew he'd be gentle. There's something endearing in his efforts to keep himself from hurting her and she hates that because he did the same damn thing with Elena. It's then she realizes he's probably thinking about her—even after all these times together. So Bonnie covers her eyes and wills herself to shut down and forget.
Nighttime, dark and always promising heartache, they hold each other. An escape, maybe. But they don't have to go out of their way to find it—Stefan's there when she glances besides her. And she supposes he sees her too because that's how they end up in each other's arms. Only in the darkness can he take her against the wall, only in the darkness can she sigh his name against his cheek, only here can he tremble against the inside of her thigh and bury his head in her neck, mumbling her name.
They are blind. But everyone else is even more so.
"We don't have to hide," Stefan whispers in a shuddered breath and sets her back on her feet, "They wouldn't care anyway."
She's never had to feel sadness or shame for what they do. It's something that feels right and at the spur of the moment. A repeated moment, she supposes. But there hasn't been guilt. However, in that moment, as he said it to her heavily, like he meantfor it to happen again, she feels her chest tighten.
Bonnie means to kiss him for a goodbye but he returns it with sudden vivaciousness and it turns into another unintentional secret, though now it's evolving into something close to, "Until next time."
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a/n
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I had this posted at livejournal a while ago, but there's a lack of Stefonnie on this site.