DISCLAIMER: I don't own Vampire Diaries.

A/N: Bonjour my daw-lings! I know it's been a looong time…but here I am, going to make up for it. I'm totally ditching my homework for this, by the way! ;D

Stuff Toy

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"Oh Damon."

Damon's ears perked up at Bonnie's soft sigh.

"Damon," the little witch sighed inaudibly again.

They were in the boarding house, Stefan and Elena sleeping in their room, Damon wandering here and there, and then, there was the little witch lounging in the guest bedroom. Mrs. Flowers was nowhere in sight (and hearing) of the vampires, so she didn't matter at the moment.

The older Salvatore, who was just passing the guest bedroom, stopped and listened to the tiny sighs the witch made. Curious. Who is she talking to? Damon pursed his lips together, thinking. Well, she's talking to a Damon—but definitely not him; as in Damon-Salvatore-him.

He heard some shifting on the bed, the small fabric movements as the little witch moved. Damon stealthily stepped closer, his curiosity growing.

"You want to read this too, Damon?" she whispered while the wind carried her words to his sensitive ears.

Who, in the world, is she talking to? Damon couldn't feel any other presence in the witch's room, so he was sure she was talking to something inanimate. But, what? And why would she name that thing Damon?

Damon didn't know why he asked himself that because he already knows the answer. Bonnie McCullough likes him; more than a friend.

He was simply not ready to admit that he, himself, likes the witch. Apparently. Not that he doesn't like the fact that he likes her. It's just that . . . he's been pinning on Katherine and Elena for, how long now? And then, in the end, he realizes that he truly likes Bonnie.

Seriously, what kind of creature does that?

A vampire, he answered his own question sarcastically. A dense vampire.

Now, that fact annoys the shit out of him because, honestly, he doesn't like the fact that he's below his own standards. He doesn't like to be slow and dense (is Bonnie like that? Damon wondered faintly), and be . . . well, dumb.

Being naïve isn't on his high-standards-list either.

And yet he likes Bonnie.

See, this is what continues to baffle him. He, Damon Salvatore—the high-standard-creature, likes Bonnie McCullough—the naïve, warm hearted girl that deserves better. Well, she's not completely naïve, but she still has that childish atmosphere around her. Which he considers . . . beautiful and adorable.

No, he didn't admit any of this to anyone but himself.

"Oh you're tired? Come on and sleep with Mommy," she cooed softly. Damon raised his eyebrows. Just who—or what—the hell is she talking to? "Mommy's going to give you some candy later when you wake up," Bonnie whispered tenderly to whatever she's talking to.

Damon pursed his lips again, his curiosity finally getting the best of him.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked as he opened the door silently, raising an eyebrow. He closed the door with a quite click.

Bonnie jumped and dropped a stuff toy on the floor. She was clutching her chest as she stared at Damon—the actual Damon—in surprise. "No one. Why?"

"I heard you talking to something or someone," Damon replied, crossing his arms. He was watching Bonnie jump off the bed to pick up the stuff toy on the floor. She dusted o the imaginary dirt and hugged the toy to her chest, walking back to her bed.

"You were probably hearing things," Bonnie yawned, using the back of her hand to cover her mouth.

"You can't accuse vampires of such things. We can hear from fifty miles away. Plus, you were whispering and the door was the only obstacle," Damon said, smirking amusedly while her cheeks heated up slightly.

"Well, you can't accuse me of talking to someone or something because witches tend to talk to themselves out loud," she replied stubbornly.

"Oh? And I thought witches were just on crack."

"We don't do crack, Damon. Although, I think vampires do; seeing as you guys hold grudges for a very, very long time." Bonnie was absolutely tempted to stick her tongue out.

"Being on crack doesn't even connect to holding grudges for a 'very, very long time,'" Damon pointed out.

"Only a person who has done crack would know such a thing," the red-haired witch stated.

"But I'm not a person." He stepped closer, smiling.

Bonnie glared, her brown eyes looked as if they were in between of playfulness and seriousness. "Yeah you are."

"No I'm not."

"Fine. You're a creature then."

"Wouldn't that make you a creature as well?" Damon asked, raising an eyebrow as he sat down on the edge of her bed.

"N—well, yeah. You know what, everyone's a creature," Bonnie said. God, she hates these mind-games she unintentionally plays with Damon.

"Now, back to our original topic, who was this Damon-thing you were talking to earlier?" he asked, dropping on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

Bonnie was sitting on the other edge of the bed and dropped down on her back as well, staring at the ceiling, their legs dangling on the side of the bed. "This—hey! How did you know I named this," she raised her furry teddy bear with a vampire cape, "Damon? I never told you that!" Then she gasped, pulling teddy-bear-Damon to her chest. "Unless you were eavesdropping!"

"Truth be told, I was eavesdropping."

Bonnie turned on her side and lightly smacked Damon's shoulder. "You—you—"

"Handsome vampire?" Damon suggested, smiling.

"No. You . . . eavesdropper," Bonnie said vaguely, getting distracted by his kilowatt-smile. God, why should she be feeling like this? When they're on her bed? Alone?

He rolled his dark eyes. "Oh, that insult hurts. Really," he said sarcastically, chuckling. Damon reverted his eyes back to her warm brown ones and raised an elegant eyebrow. "But, be honest, why did you name it Damon? That bear, I mean?"

"Because," Bonnie said, a blush forming on her cheeks as she turned her head to face the ceiling, "I just like it." She avoided his gaze.

Damon turned on his side and placed his chin on the palm of his hand. "You like my name or you just like it?"

She turned her face further away, her blush getting darker. "Both?" she mumbled, burying her face in teddy-bear-Damon's chubby stomach.

Damon smirked, watching Bonnie hide. He reached towards and effortlessly took the stuff toy out of her face, putting the bear on his side. Her face was red and she looked at him . . . with mixed feelings; anxiously, embarrassingly, a bit afraid, and . . . what was that? A little bit of longing?

He moved closer, lightly tracing her cheek with the tip of his forefinger. "Hmm, maybe you just like my name a little bit more."

Bonnie wanted to get away but she wanted to feel his skin on hers. She averted her gaze down to his chest, dodging his eyes shyly. "I don't know," she burbled.

He scooted closer until their arms were brushing, their breath almost mingling. "Oh come on. Say something," Damon said nonchalantly. Well, on the outside. In the inside, however, he felt . . . ecstatic. Ecstatic that she's not freaking out that he's touching her, being so close to her . . .

"Like what?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe you like me?" Damon asked, wagging his eyebrows.

Surprised that he knows, Bonnie quickly turned around on the other side, sitting up. Her face was warm—very warm, actually. She placed a hand on her cheek and tried to cool them off with her suddenly-cold hand. She was so nervous. Nervous that he knows! Was it obvious? Oh my gosh, Bonnie thought frantically, maybe it is obvious! What with the way she acts around him!

"Um, you know?" she squeaked uneasily.

Damon chuckled and continued to watch her. "How can I not know?"

"By, um, ignoring it?" Bonnie guessed, placing her other cool hand on her other warm cheek.

"It's like asking me to ignore you. Do you want me to ignore you?" Damon sat up, hiding smile. "Because I surely don't want to ignore you."

Bonnie coyly glanced at him and then looked away again. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked quietly.

"Look at me," he told her, reaching for her soft hand, "then I'll tell you what I mean."

Slowly, she placed her other hand on her lap, turned to face him—still blushing—as she let Damon hold her hand. The witch gulped uncomfortably. "O-okay, go on."

"Honestly speaking, Bonnie," Damon started, also feeling nervous (just a bit) but doesn't show it. "I like you."

Bonnie stared at him, agape. Surprised. Shocked. Astonished. Everything that means surprised is what she's feeling right now.

He stared at her, cocking his head to the side. "Come on, Bon-Bon. Say something."

Instead of saying something, she broke into a smile and flung herself at him, wrapping her small arms around his broad shoulders and messing up his hair. "You're not kidding around with me, are you?" she whispered in his ear.

Damon buried his face in her shoulder, kissing it softly. "Of course not."

Bonnie reached over behind Damon and took teddy-bear-Damon in her hands, pulling back. "Well, Damon, here's Damon," she said to the real Damon, moving the teddy bear around. Bonnie smiled. "Isn't he cute?"

Damon simply shrugged, smirking as he lay back down on the bed. "I'm sleeping with you from now on."

Bonnie blushed, hiding her own smile. "I don't think Damon and I will mind."

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A/N: I am so, so so SORRY for not updating anything for a month or so! I've been so…I don't know! I just don't have any inspiration to do anything anymore (its hard to have inspiration nowadays, I don't even feel like drawing!). See, I don't think I'm going to be a REAL author in the future, maybe just an amateur author…but not a real… 'cause I'm going to join the Navy when I graduate high school. Then after that, I think I'm going to pursue career of CSI people by majoring in forensic science or something…but who knows, right?

ANYWAYS, I'm super duper sorry for not reading and reviewing to any of the stories and authors that I've been following! And I'm super duper sorry for not updating! I PROMISE that I'll update all my on-going stories and that I'll finish them! But I can't guarantee that it'll be soon…

Thank you guys for reading this! :D

…Review? d(^^)b