AN: These characters and themes belong to L.J. Smith, and the esteemed writers of the CW's The Vampire Diaries.
Bonnie stood leaning on the marble-topped island in Grams's kitchen. She contemplated the bottle of bourbon in front of her. She sighed heavily and poured herself another glass. She really should call Damon. Her thoughts were going to a dark place, and February 5, 2012/May 4, 1994 was starting to feel far too close for comfort.
It was a year to the day since she had said a final goodbye to Enzo. Tragically, also Caroline and Stefan's anniversary. This past year she had sadly realized how poor of a friend Caroline really was. Maybe how poor of a friend she always had been, though Bonnie knew her current bitterness was possibly clouding her memory. She had contemplated visiting Kai's prison world a million times, and thought about how she would try to convince him to release Elena. She never did though. When she was three glasses of bourbon in she would admit to herself that it was because she wasn't sure she could face Elena after everything-not sure they could rekindle their friendship after everything that had happened. Six years was a long time and a lot to catch up on-maybe too much.
She drained her glass and was about to pour another when a hand grabbed the bottle from her.
"Easy, tiger," Damon drawled, taking a long swig at the bottle.
"What are you doing here?" Bonnie asked, stupidly, turning to face him.
"Well, Bonnie, my phone has this nifty application called a calendar, and so when I consulted my phone to see what attire would be appropriate for the weather today, I noticed the date."
Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed."
"You should be. But not surprised. Because I am an excellent best friend," he said, grinning at her, taking another big sip of bourbon.
"Do I get any more of that?" Bonnie asked, making a swipe for the bottle.
Damon held it out of her reach. "Nope, you're at least 2 drinks ahead of me so I gotta catch up."
Fifteen minutes later they were both cackling over the idea of Kai running out of jam in his prison world. As Bonnie wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, Damon wrapped his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her temple. At the tender gesture Bonnie turned towards him, and hugged him tightly. He sighed contentedly, alternately stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head.
He had missed this gentle, open side of Bonnie. They had been so close in 1994, and during their EuroTrip, and while fighting the Heretics. He had had good reasons to leave when he did, but Bonnie had held herself at a distance ever since. Even when they'd danced at Caroline and Stefan's wedding, they could have been strangers. And he knew he had no right to hold Bonnie in his arms, and he knew he should pat her back jovially to break the spell of this intimate moment-maybe even clap her on the shoulder. But he couldn't bring himself to. Instead he felt the two of them slipping into old bad habits that had led them closer and closer to crossing the line between friendship and something else entirely.
Her forehead was now pressed to the skin of his neck. With one hand he stroked her hair away from her face, and with the other he held her body tightly against his. She shifted slightly to look at him, intending to thank him for stopping by, intending to end this dangerous moment. The look in his eyes stopped her, and she couldn't find the words.
"Damon don't," she whispered instead.
He leaned his forehead against hers, and wove his fingers through her hair, cradling the back of her head, holding her to him.
"Damon," she whispered again, this time unable to even form the word 'don't.'
He slipped the arm around her waist lower, grabbing her hip and pulling her closer. With that she felt her resolve slip and she surged against him, kissing him hard.