Just a little drabble based on a beautiful gif set by my girl Nisha (Esmeralda312) on Tumblr. Hope y'all enjoy it :) xoxox
"No April rain, no flowers bloom..." Bonnie feels herself blush from roots to fingertips at the deep, soft masculine voice with it's English accent layered so charmingly over the words of her favourite song.
"...I just called to say I love you."
She decides to cut him off before her expression gives her away to Jeremy.
"I'm hanging up now."
Earnest Jeremy Gilbert gives her a quizzical look that she brushes off by saying the call was a wrong number. Quickly changing the subject, Bonnie is relieved when he doesn't mention it again, and the secret, lingering warmth in her chest that makes it pleasantly difficult to breathe is the only trace left of Klaus' phone call.
"You know, love, I'm starting to like the bob. Brings out your faerie side."
She's in her kitchen waiting for water to boil, barefoot in sleep shorts and a tank top when the call comes. Bonnie doesn't ask how he knows about her haircut. Klaus might leave a place but his eyes never did.
"Thanks, I do too. You won't believe how much I've saved on shampoo already."
She tries to keep it simple and casual, but Klaus lets his voice drop ever so slightly when he says "But I still fancy you with long hair, those dark, loose curls spilling out of my hands, tickling my chest..." And just like that it's like he's in the room with her, like Time is standing still just to give them a moment, like years never passed and he never left and she never died, like he is touching her across all the people and experiences that separated them, touching her slowly and deliberately so they can both savor the precious, stolen desire.
The boiling water makes her kettle whistle in agony.
"I have to go."
She hangs up. Let's the water grow cold.
Since she came back as the Anchor her days feel longer than ever. Every moment is a breathing space between the anguish that lay waiting for her at every turn.
Today is one of the longer days. She'd had no less than five spirits pass through her and every fibre of her flesh is pulled taut almost to breaking. She can't remember softness, or laughter, or the feel of lazy sunshine on bare skin.
Bonnie knows it's him before she even says hello. She interrupts his greeting to say simply, "It hurts. I don't know if I can do this."
"All you have to do is say the word love and -,"
"No. I need to be here. For my friends."
She ignores his muttered frustration.
"Help me forget," she coaxes, "Please. I just need one minute to forget."
There's a click on the other end and he's gone. Bonnie stuffs her phone back in her purse like it's the cause of her embarrassment.
Hours later she's lying awake on her couch in bra and panties, too tired to shower and too tired to put on her pjs. She's even too tired for the Scandal reruns on her faithful DVR.
So when the doorbell rings not once but thrice it's not without complaining that she puts on a terry robe and opens the door.
It takes Bonnie a moment to process the tall blond Original standing on her threshold, grey Henley shirt peeking through his characteristic dark jacket. His hair is shorter, giving him a more grave look. But the dancing unpredictable glint in his eyes is the same. And his lips are as full as she remembered the last time they awoke her skin to sensations she never thought she, Bonnie Bennett, would ever feel outside of the sweet rush of magic.
"You know you don't need to be invited in," is all she can manage.
Klaus gives her a brief half-smile, but his eyes...his eyes grow dark with a desire she feels uncoiling in her lower belly. He closes the foot of space between them and the next thing she knows she's crushed against his chest, bent back over one arm so his mouth can find hers. She surprises him with her hunger, clutching at his lapels and biting his mouth, taking greedy gulps of his breath and the scent of his aftershave like she's coming into her senses after years of being away.
Klaus clasps the nape of her bare neck with his other hand, massaging while he kisses her back with equanimity. When his thumb moves to rub the soaring pulse at her throat she shivers. She couldn't deny him anything when he's like this. Not her body, not her touch, not even her blood.
He breaks the kiss, breathing hard, hands gripping her terry cloth robe like he's two seconds from reducing it to shreds.
"Invite me in," he whispers against her mouth.
Bonnie smiles, feeling her body growing warm and soft.
Unlike Anchoring, surrender is a two-way street.