Note: This story is loosely based on the korean drama of the same name. I know the beginning is slow, but I hope you will like it (and that I can make it better with time).
#
"Not now!" the angry hissing of Bonnie's voice reaches him from the inside of the room, under his light knocking, and the sound interrupts him. He turns the doorknob and enters before she can even answer and give him permission to, half believing he would find her with another boy.
Bonnie turns her head to look at him and smile over her shoulder, as she puts her cellphone and her notebook inside the leather backpack. She's clearly alone and he feels a bit guilty for the rush of jealousy that made him ignore good manners for a moment, still one little doubt remains nestled in the back of his mind.
"I'm almost ready," she informs him, before retouching her lipstick. He walks behind her to hug her and looks at her through the mirror. She barely flinches in his hold and avoids his eyes as she wears her new earrings.
"Everything's okay?" he asks, getting an "Mmm-mmm" and a nod.
"I have an important test this morning and I'm a bit nervous," she explains with half a smile.
"About what?" he asks, his expression confused like he can't possibly understand her doubts. "You're going to ace it," he adds with a smile. Bonnie smiles back and bends her arm to pat his shoulder with her hand, "Thanks," before untangling herself from him, relieved to be a better liar that she gave herself credit for.
"I'm really in a hurry," she adds apologetically, opening the door.
"I could walk you to class," he suggests, following her out.
It is a sunny day, Bonnie feels herself relaxing under the warm light. Everyone around is wearing sleeveless shirts and tops, she would have liked to sport her new purchase appropriately but she can't – she was so enthusiastic about it, she had been waiting for it to be on sale because the full price was a bit too high for a college student but in the end she had managed to buy it. It was the last one, a beautiful lace top in amaranth, that shows her toned stomach and has a vertical cut on the back revealing the thinnest triangle of skin.
Only, she can't show any skin. She must wear a shawl over any t-shirt and be careful with applying her make up, so that she can hide away her secret. Maybe if she hides it really well, she can forget it herself.
In the attempt to go unnoticed she started wearing plain clothes, shirts with hoods, hats, hiding herself, even stopping feelings of shame about it, because you can't waste energy on shame when you need it all in order to survive.
"Yeah, that would be nice," she tells Jeremy, trying to not sound as hesitant as she feels. During the day, in big crowds, it seems like her secret might be losing her for a while.
She walks with him hand in hand, amazed that he can't tell from her hard grip how terrorized she feels, relived that she can get away with it. He talks about a romantic date and she nods her consent as she looks over his shoulder to make sure no spirit has spotted her.
Her absent eyes can't catch a thing. She's in the middle of a crowded campus with someone she trusts herself with, and yet she can feel destiny closing in on her.
"Isn't it great?" he asks calling on her attention, "No supernatural drama, just you and me."
Bonnie blinks, looking up at him. Guilt pools at the mouth of her stomach and her hand loses its grip by reflex.
"Now we can finally be together without anyone running to you to save the day. I won't find strange herbs and suspiciously colored liquids in your fridge. No more flickering lights or burning furniture," he says, "I think I'm discovering the beauty of normal and boring."
Bonnie knows that no matter how she longs for a safe place to hide, for a breathing space, she can never tell him the truth without taking away the chance at normalcy and happiness he deserves. And she never will.
#
She's brushing her hair when Elena enters their dorm room and lets herself fall on the bed with a suffocated moan. Bonnie turns around to look at her with an indulgent gaze; her relationship with Damon ended just a few days ago and she's entitled to some mourning and self-centeredness.
She abandons her hairbrush on the dresser and walks to her bed, to sit next to her and brush her hair from her forehead with her fingers.
"Hey, are you alright?" she asks with a soft tone. Sometimes, when she feels her heart battered and bruised, she hopes for a soft voice, a voice that will not hit her heart more, so she thinks of Elena's heart, and hopes to give it some relief.
"What if I say I'm not alright at all?" Elena asks with her pretty, sad eyes.
"I won't tell if you won't," Bonnie answers in a conspiratorial tone and her friend finally smiles at her, sitting up on the bed to hug her tight. Bonnie swallows a moan of pain, feels her eyes watering up but she keeps herself together, stops breathing and tries to distance herself from her sore body.
"Caroline would not like to know that I'm missing him," Elena says, pulling back. Bonnie smiles in relief, and nods.
"I know," she admits, "But she's only trying to protect you."
Elena's features soften as she notices Bonnie's glossy eyes, "I can always count on you, can't I?" she asks, "You always share my hurt."
Bonnie feels guilty for allowing her to mistake her physical pain with a kind of emotional involvement in her break up she's not able to feel now, but she can't really explain her what she's going through. It's something she must do on her own, something she can actually do on her own. Find a balance, dig down into her soul and drag out the necessary strength to face this. And if Elena can feel loved because she's actually been about to pass out from pain just thirty seconds ago, why deny her?
Her friends already have their fair share of tragedy to face, and it's not like they could anything for her, so there's no reason to haul them down with her.
"Are you getting ready for a date with my brother?"
"Yes," Bonnie answers, putting a strand of hair behind her ear, "We're going to have dinner together."
"You're lucky," the other girl says, "I envy you a bit," she admits with a sigh. Elena has never stayed single for more than two weeks since her first boyfriend, and her break up with Damon has taken away a certainty. She was not ready for this, for his sudden surge of selflessness, for a lonely awakening, for the moment when she's the one staying in, instead of Bonnie.
Bonnie understands this enough that she says nothing. Even when she covers a bruise on her cleavage or wears a long sleeve shirt in the warm weather while everyone ignores her pain she doesn't feel lucky or enviable at all.
#
She eats slowly, plays with the food on her plate, tries to concentrate on the sound of Jeremy's voice telling her about something he did with Matt that afternoon. She's grateful for the distraction, grateful that all she's got to do is smile and nod her way into the conversation.
She's too tired to do anything else.
"How did your test go?"
Bonnie blinks, asks a "What?" by reflex and then remembers the poor excuse she used with him that morning.
"Oh, right. I suppose I wasn't too bad, but I won't know until next week," she explains, hoping she didn't give away too many details about a lie she will have to keep standing for at least seven days.
She smiles, breathes in slowly to not rouse the pain that just calmed down and chew on her Buffalo chicken, carefully removing the cheddar; she forgot to tell the waiter that she didn't want it, and it seemed rude to ask to have her dish changed when it's her own mistake.
"What do you say about a dance?" he asks, making her raise her head.
Her first instinct is to say yes, she feels like being held, comforted, even if she must steal that comfort away because he doesn't know her need for it, but she only manages to gasp before realizing she can't really accept.
"I'm just so tired, Jer," she says, smiling apologetically.
"I promise I won't throw you in the air," he jokes, making her uncertain. She's tempted to accept but her body begs to be left alone and she cannot ignore it.
"Thanks, but I really don't feel like it. Next time we'll dance the night away," she proposes, trying to lighten the mood, "Okay?"
"Sure."
She knows it's primarily her fault if the night is not going the way it should have, but he's so happy to have her back, so happy to have a very normal relationship, with a very normal person that doesn't channel dead witches' powers for a hobby, and she can't really tell him she exchanged that for being a revolving door for ghosts.
She leans into him when he walks her back to the dorm, holding his arm with both hands so that he will not put it around her waist.
"I'm sorry I was such bad company tonight," she says, keeping in step with him. The moon's soft glow doesn't hurt her eyes and she looks up, as they speak.
"You're so beautiful I'll let it pass this time," he tells her, making her smile. Looking at him she can read a spark of desire so she shifts her gaze, faking unawareness and this is how she sees him.
He's walking in her direction, his eyes straight into hers making her heart beat wildly in her chest. She shakes her head ever so lightly, so that Jeremy won't notice, looks down watching her feet stepping on the concrete and hopes to get to her door soon.
She actually leans against it, wrapping her hands around Jeremy's, which are placed on her waist. If he presses just a bit more, she's going to scream out in pain in his face and every effort will be wasted, so she tries her best to take his hands off her without hurting his feelings. She kisses his mouth, tries to sound dreamy and tired when she thanks him.
"What if I stay over for a bit?" he asks.
"I don't think that's a good idea," she answers, her heart sinking as she realizes the route the conversation is about to take.
"I know you're tired, but I could just hold you…"
And that's actually the problem, she thinks.
"You know we wouldn't just hold each other and sleep."
"And what's so bad about that?" he presses.
"I've got class in the morning," she justifies herself, "And I don't want to be caught in the act by my boyfriend's sister".
He ignores her reference to Elena, set on finding a reason she cannot give him.
"I've checked your schedule and I'm pretty sure you're free 'til noon," he says, confused, puzzled.
"I'm just so tired, you know," she says weakly, shrugging, hoping to look adorable enough that he'll do what she wants him to, even if the distance is only growing and that's because of her.
Over his shoulder her new visitor is looking at her with a blank, unforgiving expression. She's pretty sure the visit he's paying her was as unexpected for her as it was for him, and he's losing his patience. Who knows, probably he never had it to start with.
"Is that all?" he asks, voice tense, almost cutting.
"Of course, I'm just-"
"There's someone else?" he bursts, like the words had been pressing at his skull for long before he actually allowed them to come out.
"I know college is all about having new experiences and enjoying life but-"
"You really think I would do that to you?" she asks incredulous. He should know her better, she died for him, she put her life on the line for each one of their friends, actually sacrificed everything she had for a destiny that was not written for her - because she's got no fated soul mate to await her, nor is she meant to hunt down any supernatural creature – and he thinks that she could actually betray him in such a low way.
"I heard you talking with someone this morning," he says, waiting for her to give him an explanation that will put his doubts to rest.
"What?" she asks, trying fast to understand what he's talking about.
"Were you on the phone with someone?"
This morning, she realizes, a ghost showed up in her room when he was knocking on the door and he must have heard her talking to him. He had later followed her to class, inside the girl's room and he had gone through her to reach the other side. She can't really tell Jeremy that.
"They called the wrong number."
"You're lying to me," he accuses her with a sad voice, making her feel guilty for a betrayal she never did.
"You have to trust me," she pleads, panicking because the ghost is getting closer and Jeremy is growing distant, and she's too tired to do anything at all.
"I want to, but you're distant, and distracted-" He stops, looks away and takes a step back. "Let's talk another time, you're tired."
She can read it in his eyes that he wants her to hold on to him, tell him to not go, but she can't.
During the night, somewhere in New Orleans, the Mikaelson brothers had cleaned up the space, and the dirt had went to her. After the second ghost that crossed to the other side, her ribs had started to hurt. After the fourth crossing she was so tired she fell asleep on the floor of the common restroom – so Elena and Caroline wouldn't hear - reclined against the wall, but they had kept bothering her, making things fall and slam so that she would be conscious for them to use her.
Now, to conclude a wonderful day, she must watch Jeremy's back as he abandons her on the door with an irritated ghost.
Bonnie shakes her head, slips inside her room and jumps back when she finds him staring at her once she's turned on the lights.
"I must cross to the other side," he informs her, studying the barely controlled reaction on her face. He can see she's trying to make a brave face in front of the situation, which makes it all the more entertaining for him.
"I know."
"You're the Bennett witch," he says, sounding way too pleased for a recently passed away vampire.
"Not anymore," she answers after a moment of confusion. She bets he's not just trying to make conversation.
"You killed a friend of mine," he informs her. The air is chilly and it gets colder still when he takes a step towards her, looking at her like he's actually still capable of biting into her flesh.
"If I did, it wasn't for the fun of it," she says, hoping it will be enough to convince him to leave by hook rather than by crook.
"That's the difference between us," he explains her, showing a sinister smile, "I'm going to take the scenic route," he whispers, "I'm gonna enjoy this, what about you? Will you?" before touching the middle of her chest with his fingertip.
It is strange, because she's a human being, a person, yet suddenly she's nothing more than a piece of paper he slowly shreds in two.
#
Bonnie leaves a message on his answering service before she can even get out of bed. She has no strength to, anyway. She tells him she's sorry, she tells him she knows it's her fault if their night was ruined, an] she tells him she loves him. Every scattered word rings useless and silly, like she can't even find them in the first place. She can barely think of anything but how much her muscles ache, maybe he will think her insincere and she can't really blame him.
When she takes off her pajamas, she notices a stain of blood on the shirt. Watching herself in the mirror she can see her scraped skin, a one-inch cut right next her left breast. She sighs thinking that she's lucky Elena and Caroline had to leave for class before she has to, because otherwise they might be able to smell the blood on her, and she's piling up lie on lie to the point she herself has lost track of it.
The only chance she's got to have a chance to work this out is to apply for a single room. She had been looking forward to sharing her space with her two best friends, but she needs some quiet.
Bonnie sits on the edge of the bed while cleaning the cuts, pats on the skin with gentleness to not awake the pain in her body. It takes her awhile to get cleaned and dressed. Her makeup helps in concealing the rough night she just endured, and this is the only way she has to fix her look, considering her new, not improved fashion choices.
Outside her door the world is awake and busy by now. There are two guys playing Frisbee, and the usual girl that moves from class to class on her rollerblades. She barely notices them, too distracted by her own problems to stop and envy those who cannot understand.
The day isn't as warm as the one before, and bearing her long sleeves is easier. She checks her notes, trying to make sense of them but she can barely remember her professor's face, like her brain is actually occluded. Flashes of images come back to her mind, slowing down her step she realizes she's picking apart the memory her last visitor left in her body when he passed through her. He liked to engage in torture, stitching his victim's lips together before cutting through them.
The shiver that hits her body is violent and she can feel goose bumps on her skin. Shaking her head she tries to chase away those images from her eyes, and then she sees her. A new visitor that gazes at her from her peripheral vision, and she walks faster, without bothering to watch ahead, turning her head to her to keep the ghost in sight like it can help her avoiding a public crossing and the shame that will surely follow.
The old woman looks at her through her white pupils and Bonnie understand she must have been blind before her passing, somehow a voice inside her head wonders if she's going to be clumsy with her crossing, if she's going to drag it to the point she'll feel her flesh tear apart again, and as she sees her walking in her direction she doesn't notice the chest she runs into, as the mocking voice greets her with a "Hello, sunshine."
The hit is not hard but on her battered body feels like a frontal car crash. Her vision blurs, her knees go weak and the ghost disappears in front of her eyes. Two strong hands grip her around her waist to put her back on her feet and she whines in the back of her throat as she raises her eyes to meet his.
"What's wrong with you?"
The grimacing face and the ungentle voice send panic racing through her for a short moment, because she's been so good at avoiding people asking that question of her, and then Damon comes out of nowhere and ruins it all.
Even if he's not touching her anymore yet she thinks she's going to feel his hands on her bruised skin all day long.
"Nothing," she just answers, holding his gaze to show her usual confidence, "What are you doing here?"
"Judging the content of your wardrobe, at the moment," he says, scrutinizing her. Making her feel self-conscious again and she feels like hiding her head under her gray shirt.
"Aren't you hot?" the question is colored with sarcasm and he offers her an infuriating grin.
"Not really," she says, "You leave me cold," and his grin becomes a smile.
Bonnie supposes that it is not very polite to greet the one that brought her back from the dead this way but she couldn't seem to help it. His mocking, insolent attitude sparked her spirit for the fraction of a second, like the light of a matchstick. Not hot enough to melt the ice inside her bones, not bright enough to wipe the darkness surrounding her, but still a trace of her true self.
"Now, if you don't mind, and even if you do," she explains, "I've got to go to class."
"You're even less fun than I remembered," he protests, turning around to watch her leave as she walks past him.
She can feel his presence at her back, and is so distracted that she's startled when the ghost appears in front of her again. The surprise makes her jump back and crash, again, into Damon's chest. His arm closes around her to keep her still and the ghost blurs away like a cloud of vapor.
This time it's not the pain that make her moan in the back of her throat, it's the relief. Her eyes water up, a laugh surfaces on her lips unexpectedly and when she's on her two feet again she's lightheaded and delirious with something that looks dangerously close to hope.
"Bonnie?" She thinks it's the new realization that just hit her, rather than his voice saying her name, that shakes her this way, but even so, looking back at him, she feels breathless.
"Did you just take up a job as winter caretaker for a Hotel in the Colorado Mountains and forgot to tell me? Because I would have advised against it," he jokes trying to lighten the mood. She is no Shining but she doesn't look much like herself either.
"I'm fine," she protests. Right now she just wants to wrap her fingers around the fabric of his shirt and follow him wherever he goes hiding in his shadow, so maybe she's not exactly fine. To fight this new urge she takes a step back, and then another, points her thumb over her shoulder and reminds him, "Gotta go now."
Damon just shrugs as she leaves, looking in the direction of the building where Elena has her last class that day. Maybe she won't let him speak, maybe she will look at him with relief and will hide her face in his chest before even saying hello.
He manages to take only one step in that direction before the buzz at his back makes him turn. At the end of the alley there's a little crowd bent over something, someone. He only catches the faded gray of the unflattering shirt, before running to her, pushing his way through the guys that block his path.
"Bonnie," he says, kneeling at her side to check her pulse. There's something wrong with her body temperature, her pulse is slow and she smells like disinfectant. He's surprised to notice it only now.
"Go away, the show is over," he almost shouts as he takes her up into his arms to walk her to the health center. "You're fine, right?" he murmurs sarcastically, even if she can't hear his question. He kicks the door open and the young doctor inside adjusts his glasses on his nose and spares him from a lecture on manners.
"Put her down," he tells him, taking the stethoscope from around his neck, "What happened?" he asks, as he checks her heartbeat.
"I don't know. She fainted."
It takes the young man a few seconds to realize he just felt her pulse above a fresh cut and he asks Damon to wait outside. He leaves with a certain reluctance, listening intently through the whole examination from outside to know what the doctor is doing, and if she's awake. He's sure she's not.
"What's wrong with her?" he asks when the man comes out of the room.
"Are you family?"
"No."
"Then I can't tell you," he says, shaking his head.
"She has no family, just a few friends. I suppose you can count me as one of them," he admits, against his better judgment, "So now you better tell me."
The young man, stares at him with suspicion from behind his glasses. His green eyes try to weigh his character with one look. Well, good luck with that.
Damon is about to take him by the white coat and slam him against a wall to be more persuasive when he tells him "She's clearly suffering from sleep deprivation. I would usually think it's just the stress of the new setting, but there are clear signs of abuse-"
"What?" the question bursts out of his mouth before he can even think. He can hardly process what the doctor just told him. "What does that mean?"
"She's covered in bruises, some are old, others are recent, and I found fresh cuts on her chest and stomach," he explains, "No one found it strange that she wore long sleeves in this kind of weather?" There's a hit of bitterness under the professional tone he's probably practices at behind closed doors to look more like a doctor instead of someone that just got his degree.
Damon has no answer to that question. It's the first time he's seen her since she came back to the land of the living.
"Does she have a boyfriend?"
"Why? Do you want to ask her out?" Damon replies, unreasonably angry, before calming himself down, "Yes, she does, but between the two I think he's more likely to be the one to take the beating." Still the doubt crosses his mind. What if Jeremy is violent? She would never out him. She would never risk ruining his relationship with Elena and putting another weight on her friend's shoulders.
"Well, someone has hurt her," he says, and Damon steals a glance over the doctor's shoulder to look at her body lying on the infirmary bed. "I have to report it."
"A complaint against an unknown person?" he asks. "She's not someone who does things when someone forces her to," he adds with a dark tone.
"I know her," he murmurs to himself. He knows her, and this is why he can't begin to understand how the strong girl he knows can be unconscious on that bed.