A/N: Guys. Season Six, Episode 15. The hug. I'm feeling quite hungover, since I stayed up until nearly five in the morning watching it over and over again, but I had to write this and post this, immediately. And I seriously doubt there will be a moment in the rest of the series that tops it. But we shall see.
Believe me, I've rooted for Delena from the start, but Damon and Bonnie's relationship is just so pure, you know? Anyways, enjoy! Expect more of these, for sure.
XOXO, Helix.
He's walking into the kitchen, right as he's hanging up from Elena's voicemail, and the first thing he sees is a flat, steaming black skillet. There are pancakes on top that really shouldn't be left alone on high heat like that, or they'll burn and start to stink.
He knows that can be resolved with a candle or an open window, or boiling orange peels and cinnamon together in some water, but they don't stink, though, not yet. Exactly three of them are already stacked on the cream-colored plate decorated with the olive leaves, and he's not that hungry, but they look alright.
Not nearly as good-looking as the ones he makes, but hers are notably rounder. She's gotten some practice in, he can tell.
This is the thought that makes him look up and see her standing in his kitchen, all teary, and there's a bit of BisQuick just there, on the narrow wrist of her sleeve.
Damon cocks his head and he still can't believe it. He says her name like it's a dream, but then she answers him.
The one and only, she says, and Damon agrees.
Yes, of course there is only one, there has only ever fucking been one Bonnie Bennett.
Her eyes are brimming up earnestly, like she expects him to scream at her for rescuing him instead of her, acting the martyr, or just taking this long to come home.
And the instinct is there, to do just that, but he can't control his face.
It crumples a little, before smiling, smiling, smiling.
Even now, he's still not sure if this is even real, because this doesn't feel real, damn it. He imagined them coming home so many times, together, that he didn't even know what to do with himself when they didn't. How is he supposed to act now?
But his arms know, and they're lifting up like they're trying to bring a message to his brain, saying yes, she's here, will you please just fucking hold her already?
He exhales.
Then, she's launching herself at him, flying to him: his precious, precious bird.
She thuds right into Damon: fitting and curling into place and it's wonderful. The sound that the force of her embrace makes is wonderful. She's wonderful.
Bonnie is wrapped around him and his hands are pressed firm on the middle of her back. Her arms are reaching farther, linking and joining around his neck, like they are trying to absorb into each other at the same time. She is not letting go. And, curiously, the tighter she clings, the easier it becomes for him to breathe.
Has he even been breathing since she's been gone?
He wonders, because his chest is unlocked in exquisite relief. It's so potent Damon can't even think. He almost can't remember his own first name. Only Bonnie's.
Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie.
She made it.
He says so-he fucking declares it. And she trills beautifully at him. It is a half-laugh, half-sob.
His eyes close with a growl, and he is home.
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