Grass through her hair like green waters. She was gazing at the birch canopies which were threatening to fall over her with their dew-laden branches.

The sky was cut into small rectangular, blinking through a web of leaves.

Her view was spectacular, albeit fragmentary.

But she was not sitting in the most comfortable position. Her neck was leaning against a rough log. She craned her neck further and further away, even though her bones felt like they would snap at any moment.

'Not that I'm not enjoying this...er, experiment, but my back and my neck are killing me,' she said matter-of-factly.

He grunted. That meant he had heard her.

His hands landed on the sides of her head and moved it in a mother comfortable position.

How does he do that? He can't even see, she wondered.

Although he had alleviated a bit of her pain, she was still feeling painfully uncomfortable. But oddly enough, it had more to do with the dirty, wet soil and sticky grass blades than his actual teeth.

He was just grazing lightly, barely sucking anything out.

Well, he was sucking out just enough to get the taste of it. Then he would give her his verdict.

It had started from one silly conversation topic.

'Do you sometimes drink your own blood?' Bonnie had asked.

He had replied in the affirmative. 'It happens when I'm turning innocent young girls into deadly sex predators.'

'Oh. Cute. What does it taste like?'

'My blood? Well, funny you should ask...'

And somehow this had turned into a proposition which had led to this experiment.

'I'd like to know what your blood tastes like. Consider it an early birthday present.'

And now he was having a sip.

'Had enough already?' she asked after some moments.

He mumbled something in her neck.

'I think you drank more than a glass,' she quipped.

After two seconds, he finally pulled back and wiped his mouth clean. He looked away immediately. She supposed he didn't want her seeing his hunger. It was kind of considerate of him.

He raised himself and sat down next to her.

He placed his hand on her upper arm and pulled her up gently.

'Sorry I pulled you down a bit,' he said awkwardly.

Bonnie started massaging her neck softly.

'Ouch, kinda stings when you let go,' she complained. 'Kind of like a mosquito bite.'

'Don't compare me to a disease-carrying insect. And don't make a joke about STDs,' he said, warning her with his finger.

'Man, you take away all my fun.'

'I'm sure.'

'So...I guess this was interesting. I got bit by a vampire. That's gotta count for something on my CV, right?'

'It depends on how you phrase it,' he joked.

'Okay, I am dying to hear. What does it taste like?'

He wrinkled his nose upset.

'Lemons.'

Bonnie scratched her head in confusion.

'What?'

'It tastes like lemons.'

'Oh. Are you serious?'

'Yes, Bonnie. God, can't believe you just made me drink a glass of sugarless lemonade,' he huffed.

'Sugarless le... Wait a second, how can my blood taste like lemons? I haven't had some in weeks.'

'It's not about that. It's about the way it tastes to me.'

'And it tastes like lemons...'

'Pretty much. And I'm sure stuffing yourself with chocolate won't help,' he added, knowing she would suggest that.

'And you take away my fun again!' she complained, hitting him in the shoulder.

'Hey, I call 'em like I taste 'em. '

'That's retarded.'

'Well, you're as sour as your blood.'

Bonnie leant into him slightly and chuckled in her palm.

'So, what does Elena's blood taste like?' she asked out of the blue.

'Why the curiosity?'

'Well, I need to know I'm not the only fruit-oriented one.'

'Don't worry, you're my first lemon,' he said, smirking.

'Come on, tell me.'

'I don't know if Elena would want me to discredit such vital information...'

'Damon.'

'Okay, fine. Cinnamon.'

'Cinnamon,' Bonnie repeated blankly.

'Cinnamon. There, happy?'

Bonnie shrugged and kicked her feet into the ground.

'Strange.'

'Why?'

'I...wasn't expecting that.'

'Well, she is goody-two-shoes Elena, what's not to expect?'

'She's not a goody-two-shoes, but I guess it fits.'

'Of course it does.'

'Some get lemons, some get cinnamon.'

'Yes, she's sweet, you're sour, now go sulk about it,' he said, rolling his eyes.

She shrugged her shoulders.

'She is pretty sweet.'

Damon stared at her profile. Her nose arched up into the air like a delicate arrow. Her eye looked slightly sad, though. His knee touched hers playfully.

'On the other hand...' he began carefully, 'Elena is cookies material. You're more like gin.'

She laughed. 'More like gin? What?'

'Hey, it's just an insanely good combo. Just something to think about...' he muttered.

Bonnie looked up at the sky again.

'We should probably head out,' she said into his shoulder.

'And do what exactly?'

'Well, I've got to take a shower,' she said, pointing at her neck.

'Gee, Bonnie, I'm not contagious you know.'

'No, I actually don't,' she bit back grinning.

Damon smiled wanly.

'Though, I also wanna get rid of the crumbs of dirt in my pants,' she added.

'Too much information, Bennett.'

A couple of seconds of much appreciated silence.

'Damon?'

'Yes, Bonnie?'

'You're not going to tell anyone else about...'

'Your lemon blood? Already texted Stefan and Alaric.'

Bonnie rolled her eyes and slowly got up, as to prevent any dizziness.

He followed suit, a rueful smile plastered on his lips.