Mystic Falls; September—2013
SITTING IN THE dark had become her thing. It wasn't because she suffered from migraines or couldn't tolerate light; the dark provided a shelter of sorts that she found calming.
She sat poised behind her desk scrolling through photo after photo. She could hardly tell the difference between her endless browsing of someone's blog, twitter, or Instagram and modern day stalking. Yet this was her ritual of sorts. Coming home, toeing off her shoes, soaking in the bath, eating a nuked meal, and settling in for the night to get caught up on what she missed.
Pictures told stories, revealed things. She was positive the demise of any relationship could be found in pictures. Two people standing too close together, or standing farther apart than usual. Bright smiles that became wane through the years. Someone in the background looking oddly at those posing for the camera. It was there if you knew where to look.
When revelations weren't forthcoming, she found herself comparing and contrasting. It hurt. It really did. Seeing her look so happy with someone else. It was all artifice, she was sure of it, and she'd show them what real, true, unconditional love really looked like. That love didn't come in the form of pale skin, blue eyes or black hair.
Speaking of hair.
She opened the middle drawer of her desk, retrieved an envelope. Opening the flap, she moistened her lips and slipped her index and middle finger inside and pulled out…a tiny bundle of mahogany hair.
"You'll lose more than this if you keep fucking with Stefan, bitch," she whispered to the dark. "I guarantee you will."
::::
"You were attacked. You have every right to be upset. Regardless of it being hair or a leg someone touched you without your consent or knowledge. This can't be written off or brushed under the rug."
Elena sniffled and blew her nose. "I know." She self-consciously ran her fingers through her hair, still unused to its shortness. Elena felt bald.
There had been no question about her hightailing it out of the boardinghouse. She packed up her shit and made tracks to the best hotel in the city that offered twenty-four hour security. Trying to save her pockets a few dollars, Elena wished she had just found lodgings at the hotel to start. She'd still have her long hair and not an asymmetrical bob. Her stylist had been able to salvage the damage that had been done the best he could.
"I just want to know why someone would do this to you." Bonnie settled on the couch in the small seating area.
The question of the hour. Elena had her theories that she was playing close to the vest for the moment. "I've already been questioned by the police. They asked if I have any enemies. What kind of enemies does a pediatrician rack up?" she scoffed then shivered at the image of someone sneaking into her room in the middle of the night, watching her sleep for however long before determining she was out cold enough to start hacking away at her hair.
How long did it take? How had she had not felt a single cut of the scissors, felt someone rooting around her head for more hair to chop off?
She jumped at Bonnie rubbing her shoulder consolingly. They lapsed into a long silence with a comment here and there interspersed with a list of suspects ranging from people Elena had beef with back in high school to whom she suspected might secretly hate her today.
"Do you think," Bonnie paused carefully, "do you think whoever did this, might have been trying to send a message not to you, but maybe to Stefan?"
That idea had run across Elena's mind. What it boiled down to was, someone saw them last night and hated what they saw. She couldn't help but wonder if the woman seated next to her might have done it, but that notion was cancelled because Elena knew for a fact Bonnie had been out of town. She had even suspected Stefan. He could have flipped the fuck out once the realization of what they had done hit him. But the shock on his face when he returned from a run was too real to be fabricated. Some unknown person had done this.
Another shudder coursed through the doctor. "Maybe," she finally answered.
Looking at this from a psychological standpoint, Bonnie knew what psychopathic behavior looked like. And that kind of behavior always escalated. Elena was known the town over for her Rapunzel locks. The fact she was single, beautiful, and temporarily living with an equally single and handsome man triggered the attacker to deface what he or she deemed as an opponent to not only lessen Elena's desirability, but to declare Stefan as theirs.
"Hypothetically speaking, if they were sending a message to Stefan," Bonnie deduced, "I think you were seen as a threat and they wanted to scare you off. Cutting your hair and scrawling that word across the mirror was the warning. If you ignore the warning…"
"I might get stabbed or shot next," the doe-eyed doctor gulped and buried her face in her hands. "I can't believe this is happening because we…" Elena pressed her lips together.
Bonnie eyed her to which Elena fidgeted under her scrutiny. It didn't escape Bonnie's attention that from the moment of her arrival, Elena hadn't been able to look her directly in the eye. Why? What happened on Elena's third night at the boardinghouse that warranted a violent response in return and had her best friend ducking eye contact?
The guesses made Bonnie short of breath. But she wouldn't start throwing around any accusations.
"Stefan hasn't received any cryptic or ominous messages?" she went on to ask. "Have any strangers popped up at the house?"
"I don't know," Elena retorted, exasperated. "He hasn't said anything to me, and I think he might have mentioned that to Sheriff Forbes when she was there to take my initial statement."
"Have you talked to him since?"
Stefan had called to make sure she moved into the hotel all right. Besides that, Elena hadn't heard from or seen him. She shook her head in the negative.
Bonnie said, "Is there anything else you want to tell me, Elena?"
Startled, Elena jerked her head up and stared at Bonnie with wild eyes. "No."
"Are you sure? Look, I know you're scared. I'd be, too. You know I'm here for you if there's something you want to say but don't want to say to the police."
"I'm not hiding anything," the taste of that lie made it difficult for Elena to swallow. "I certainly don't know who broke into the boardinghouse and turned me into Chucky. If I had a clue I'd scream it from the rooftops."
"All right," Bonnie backed off.
::::
STEFAN SALVATORE stood under the pelting water, one hand smashed against the cold tile, the other gripping the back of his neck. It had been a while since he had a flashback of falling down that ravine in Montana, but it hit him suddenly, and he winced as he replayed his body colliding violently with rocks and tree roots that jutted from the cliff. Three broken ribs, two pints of spilled blood, a cracked femur, dislocated shoulder, broken ulna, and skull fractures that led to brain swelling. That had been the tally.
He opened his mouth to let out a silent scream. Then cursed because why now was this happening? Could it be Elena's attack set off the flashback? That seemed incredibly selfish for his past trauma to rear its head the day after someone broke into his home and practically defaced Elena. But it was here. It was happening. He was essentially alone again. She left for her own safety and he didn't blame her. Stefan would have left as well but where could he go? The boardinghouse was it. So he took steps to fortify it. Cameras had been installed, motion sensors for the lights, an actual alarm, bars placed on the windows in the basement. He wasn't Bruce Wayne but he was close enough.
Blindly he groped for the faucet and turned off the showerhead. Stefan reached for his towel and wrapped it around his hips, and pushed open the frosted glass door.
A painful burst of pain right behind his left eye socket had him stumbling to the sink which he gripped for leverage. He fumbled for the bottle of aspirin he purchased that very afternoon, popped the top and washed two powdery white pills down with water from the sink.
On the counter his phone charged. He stared at the object wondering. No. He wouldn't call. Running to her for anything was no longer an option. Straightening, Stefan took an inventory of the scars that told the story of his great big fall. He fingered the one by his hip and could have sworn he felt a flare of pain. It was probably psychosomatic.
Clearing his throat, he picked up his toothbrush. He had a gala to get ready for.
::::
BONNIE WAS PUTTING on her makeup when Damon stepped out of the shower, toweling his hair dry. Their eyes met in the mirror where he grinned and she smirked and let her orbs travel south following the muscled ridges of his torso, the happy trail of hair that led to the muscle dangling between his legs.
"Fiend," Damon teased. "Should I shave?" he sidled beside her at the sink once he toweled the rest of his body dry.
"I like your scruff. Keep it."
"Consider it kept," Damon picked up his toothbrush. "Are you ready for tonight?"
"It's now or never."
They were making their romantic debut. Bonnie was positive she was making a bigger deal out of her love life than the denizens of Mystic Falls actually gave a damn about. However, she still hadn't shaken the aftereffects of her run-in with Rebekah in New York. No one would probably accost her in public but might make a condescending, snide, or rude comment hoping to elicit a reaction out of her. Hopefully not.
"It'll be fine. Oh, I forgot to ask how your visit with Elena went. She still freaked out about what happened?"
"Yep. It's been less than a week. The police have no leads." Bonnie also hadn't shaken the feeling something went down with Elena and Stefan. She tried putting it out of her mind, but it wouldn't go away.
"Will she be at Mason's fundraiser tonight?"
"She said she'd be there," Bonnie shrugged and added bronzer to her T-zone. "She doesn't want whoever attacked her to think they won by scaring her into a life of seclusion."
"Hmm. I wonder if my little brother will be in attendance, or if he's going to keep a low profile, too." Damon began brushing his teeth. "Doesn't look so good a guest in his home was violated and nothing was done to him."
"You don't think he did that to Elena, do you?" Bonnie's brow furrowed with skepticism.
"Stefan is many things, but chopping off someone's hair and writing a slur across a mirror…not his style. Then again…"
"What?"
"Did it never bother you how normal he was after having a traumatic head injury?"
Bonnie angled her body toward Damon, digging her hip into the counter. "You think behavioral side effects are manifesting a full three years later?"
Now it was Damon's turn to shrug. He rinsed out his mouth. "You're the head expert between the two of us. You tell me. The human body is a strange thing, wouldn't you say?"
It had been a concern of Bonnie's when they first learned Stefan had survived a fall that should have killed him, and that he came back healthier than he left. The medicinal practices of the Quileutes had been nothing less than miraculous. But what if…?
"If he shows up at the gala tonight, why don't you talk to him to feel things out?" Bonnie slyly suggested.
Damon gave her a mocking stare. "How 'bout I don't and say I did."
"Damon."
"Come on," he kissed her cheek. "We need to hurry up and get out of here."
Together they moved with uniformity occasionally or purposefully bumping into one another; a clever tactic to sneak in a kiss or the quick nibble of skin. Bonnie expertly tied his bowtie. He zipped up her dress. She put on his cufflinks while Damon put in her earrings. It was moments like this Damon thought of forever. He liked that Bonnie needed him even for the little things, probably because of the little things. And he sure as hell enjoyed the fact she wanted him around as much as he yearned to be around her.
He'd never had a relationship like this, and though at times he found it scary and it left him feeling off-kilter, Damon wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
Leaning against the door to their bedroom, Bonnie sighed contentedly as Damon did his final primping in the mirror. Tweaking his black hair to make sure it looked as if he hadn't done anything to it, checking his face at every angle as he sprayed on cologne. Finding everything in order, Damon winked at himself.
"Vain much," Bonnie rolled her eyes.
"Yes, and I'm proud of it. You should be proud, too."
"Oh, yeah and why's that?"
Damon wrapped arm around her waist, hauled her closer. "Because we're two sides of the same coin. We're more alike than you like to think."
"Well, why don't we mosey our like-minded asses to the car."
Bonnie yelped at the slap Damon delivered to her ass. She grabbed her wrap and purse while Damon made sure anything electrical was turned off. Lacing their fingers together, they left the condo and slid into the idling town car waiting for them.
The nerves were back, making Bonnie's stomach churn violently. She prayed everything would go smoothly tonight.
::::
STONE SKY RISTORANTE was aptly named for its hand crafted stone façade made of slate and basalt stone; however, what gave the ristorante its uniqueness wasn't the menu, drinks, or impeccable hospitality of the wait staff, but the oculus in the center of the building kept open during good weather to let natural sun and moonlight in.
Slipping one hand into his tuxedo pockets, Stefan followed the flow of traffic through the restaurant to the courtyard where Mason Lockwood's black tie fundraiser was being thrown.
Stefan had been thoroughly frisked before given clearance to enter. He meandered through the crowd that coupled together in groups trading secrets and telling lies. He shook a few hands, kissed a few cheeks before finding sanctuary on a quiet balcony.
::
Their arms were woven together, fingers linked. Heads turned in their wake, but it wasn't for the reason Bonnie thought which caused her muscles to tighten with apprehension; the scandal of arriving on the other Salvatore brother's arm. Heads turned because they were a striking couple. So striking they weren't immediately recognized.
Damon, naturally, strutted with his chest puffed out, shoulders back, and spine straight. His pleasure at being admired could be misconstrued as arrogance or conceit…The older people in the room, the ones who knew his parents had pegged him to be a habitual fuck up, a rich version of poor white trash, never expected him to amount to anything. He more than proved every single last one of those bastards wrong.
"We're not flaunting anything but merely showing them a small piece of who we are," Damon spoke into Bonnie's ear. "We control the narrative, angel. Who gives a shit what anyone has to think?"
Infinitesimally, Bonnie nodded in agreement and tightened her fingers around Damon's. Together they strolled deeper into the courtyard, saying hello or smiling at whoever acknowledged them. Yet Bonnie couldn't escape feeling like a bright red target had been painted on her back. People were whispering behind their hands, staring, and a few even pointed. Bonnie nearly tugged her hand free to escape, but Damon sensing her urge to flee, tilted her chin and kissed her.
From his perch, Stefan inhaled sharply. He's done it. He survived seeing them kiss. One obstacle cleared but how many to go until he was desensitized? Absently he rubbed a spot above his heart as he tracked her journey across the courtyard, getting his fill of Bonnie in the svelte flesh tone gown encrusted with hundreds of carefully placed Swarovski crystals.
"Stefan? Stefan Salvatore? How the hell are you, man?"
Startled, Stefan turned his head and his features softened in recognition. "Levi Castle? Shit."
The two shook hands and gave one another a one-armed embrace. Levi hadn't changed a bit, was still a dead ringer for actor Daniel Henney. He and Stefan had been thick as thieves in high school, lost touch after graduation, but reconnected thanks to social media, and whenever Levi visited his little sister who still called Mystic Falls home.
"It's been what, five years?" Levi asked as he pulled away.
"Something like that." Stefan noticed a man standing a little behind Levi. Tall, dark-skinned, and broad shouldered with locks pulled into a ponytail.
Levi reached back to wrap his arm around his plus one drawing him to his side, "Oh, let me introduce you to the love of my life. Stef this is my baby, Trevante Smith."
Stefan extended a hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise."
Levi grinned like a little boy as his eyes shone with pride. But then he started to look around the balcony, "Somebody is missing…Where's Bonnie?"
A muscle flexed in Stefan's jaw.
Down below, Damon nabbed two glasses of champagne. He and Bonnie literally bumped into Mayor Hamilton Hayes who extended his hand as if waiting for them to kiss his ring. Damon offered the man a firm handshake that had the older gentleman grunting whereas Bonnie air kissed the Mayor's wife, Sylvie who began making inquiries about who styled her for the event. Her surprise Bonnie had picked out her dress and done her makeup herself would be comical if didn't reek of pretention.
The Hayes' rise to power meant the downfall of the Lockwoods who were chomping at the bit to retake the mayoral mansion. Bonnie covertly scoped the courtyard and saw Tyler standing near the circle his uncle and father were entrenched in, looking dapper but miserable. He caught her gaze, raised his glass before rolling his eyes at his family.
::
"We're not together anymore. We're divorced," Stefan informed.
Levi's slanted eyes widened. "You're fuckin' with me."
Stefan shook his head, slid a hand in his pocket. "I wish I was but I'm not."
"What the hell happened?"
My brother, Stefan refrained from saying. "It's complicated. How have you been?"
It was at that moment Bonnie happened to glance up just as Stefan took a step out of the shadows, and stood under the beam of the halogen lights. Like a magnet he turned his head toward her as well.
:::::
BONNIE HAD BEEN prepared to smile until she remembered. They weren't friends but they weren't bitter enemies either; so what would be the proper greeting that wouldn't seem like she was rubbing salt into the wound? She murmured, "Stefan is here."
"So he is," Damon deadpanned.
Bonnie looked at her boyfriend over her shoulder. "I think now would be a good time to talk to him."
"He's not going to want to talk to me, Bonnie. I rather cut my losses."
"You should still say something. You can't go the whole night being under the same roof and not speak to each other. You're brothers."
"I don't need the constant reminder, all right? I know we're blood. I know he's my kid brother. It's been months and nothing's changed."
Facing him head on, Bonnie frowned, "And nothing will if you don't put effort into keeping some semblance of a relationship alive."
Chuckling lowly, Damon's eyes rolled. "Kind of hard to do that when the person you're trying to keep the lines of communication open with constantly pays you dust. My brother hates my guts, and no amount of shooting the shit and pretending everything is fine is going to change that."
"And if you give up what kind of message will that send?"
Damon took a breath. "This is the cycle Stefan and I go through every few years. Give it more time and everything will blow over."
Bonnie wasn't convinced. She was no dummy to their history, and the reasons they fell out in the past. It had never been over a woman. "Will you just try, please?"
Smiling tightly, Damon inched closer, "You wanna help bridge the gap? Here's what you can do, stay out of it."
With that lovely advice, Damon was drawn into another conversation.
Bonnie looked back up to where she spotted Stefan. Unsurprisingly he was gone.
::::
THE WORDS "stay away" hadn't been scrawled across the mirror though it could have been implied. Maybe it was twisted, but the idea of going against a clear warning made Elena Gilbert feel…rebellious. A feeling she hadn't delved into since high school.
And feeling rebellious she had to look the part.
With the shorter and edgier hairstyle, she went against her usual grain of wearing something that erred on the side of sexy conservatism. Her lithe, olive hued figure was cinched into a salmon colored bodycon dress that paid homage to her perky breasts and long legs.
She garnered plenty of appreciative stares from men who were twice her age, a few turned up noses from their wives, but there was only one person's opinion she wanted. One's attention she hoped to snare.
The niggling feeling of guilt rose again. It culminated into palpitations when she saw Bonnie. Elena quickly looked away and searched the sea of faces for Stefan.
"…now the man of the hour, the one who is going to revamp Mystic Falls for the better, I present to you, ladies and gentleman, Mason Lockwood!"
Seemed she arrived just in the nick of time to hear Mason's impassioned speech about how he'd be a wonderful civil servant. Elena was far from interested in listening.
Applause rang out as the lawyer bounded up on the constructed stage, waving like a well-groomed politician.
Now was her chance. Stefan was alone, nursing a glass of cognac. Pulling down the skirt of her dress that loved to ride up her thigh any chance it got, Elena maneuvered through the horde and arrived just two feet shy of standing in front of Stefan.
His brows arched once he got a good look at her. Elena felt her entire body blushing under his perusal that began on a note of curiosity, but ended on the broad end of smoldering. Already moisture gathered between her legs reminding Elena tonight had been another first for her. She had gone commando.
Elena popped open her clutch as she cleared the distance between them, leaving hardly any room. His hard body made her want to whimper. Instead, she bit down on a corner of her lip, extracted the extra keycard to her room and slid it into his pocket, spoke into his ear. "I'm in room 611 at the Van Dussen. Use it anytime."
Elena moved her hand to cop a feel of the rigid length in his pants. Smiling, she took a step but Stefan seized her wrist. Their eyes locked.
However, just a little over Elena's shoulder Stefan zeroed in on Bonnie. Her back was to him and he could see his brother staring down at her. Unintentionally, Stefan squeezed Elena's wrist. The pressure became tenfold as he tailed his brother's hand that smoothed down the curve of Bonnie's spine.
Elena winced, "Stefan?"
He barely heard her transfixed as he was on Damon who gripped a handful of Bonnie's ass. Tearing his eyes away from the display, Stefan pinned Elena with a stare that was a confusing and weirdly thrilling mix of hate and lust. It didn't last long. His features evened out and he released her wrist.
"I'm sorry. I can't do this."
"But…"
Stefan retrieved her card and held it between his index and middle fingers. Elena snatched it from him feeling horribly rejected.
"I'm sorry," he apologized.
Fighting back tears, Elena glowered, "You're going to have to get over her at some point."
"This has nothing to do with her."
"Like hell it doesn't."
"We're divorced. Can't get any more over someone than that."
"You divorced a person, not feelings. That takes time. Be realistic about this, Stefan."
He stepped closer to Elena, their noses almost touching. "If I came to your room I'd only be using you. Is that what you want?"
"Preferably no," she replied honestly. "But I wouldn't have any expectations."
Stefan scoffed.
"I'm being serious," Elena argued. "Let me prove it," taking him by the hand she led him away to the nearest storage room or unoccupied closet she could find. The thrill of being caught only hastened her steps.
Elena may have thought they were making a quiet escape but someone saw them.
::::
NEVER HAVING BEEN part of any league of extraordinary gentlemen, thinking himself a lone wolf a good portion of his life, it wasn't always easy for Damon to humble himself for the greater good. Five drinks, a stomach running on empty, and a boulder on his shoulder he couldn't dislodge regardless of the attempts to remove it, he sulked in the shadows.
Bonnie had gone off with Mason after his speech who said he needed to consult with her about something leaving Damon to his devices. He had already made his rounds, talked enough shop and dallied in enough perfunctory ass kissing he felt like he just pulled an eight-hour shift.
But he couldn't stop thinking about what Bonnie said. About how he need to talk to Stefan.
Sighing, Damon pushed away from the wall and went in search of his little brother who would either ignore him or only reply with monosyllabic responses. If they left tonight without making one another black and blue, Damon would call that a victory.
He sidestepped and inched his way through the crowd, constantly on the lookout for that famously styled auburn hair when he plowed into someone or someone plowed into him.
Something cold, liquid, and sticky splashed on his chest, arm, drops even splashed on his neck and chin. Eyes closing, his nose was assaulted with the smell of lemon lime. Damon gritted his teeth.
He first checked the damage that had been done to his tux. Crystal drops of what was probably club soda soaked into his tuxedo jacket.
Next he was staring at a wide-eyed young woman. She slapped a hand over her mouth then lowered it looking far more mortified than Damon.
"I am so sorry. Ohmygod I'm so sorry!"
Damon flicked his soaked arm in a poor attempt to dry it off. "Don't worry about it," he grumbled and side stepped the woman who moved with him.
"Please, let me…maybe I can pay to have your blazer dry cleaned?"
"Like I said, don't worry about it. It's not a big deal."
The woman frantically rummaged through her purse possibly looking for a napkin. "I'm such a spaz. A klutz really."
Damon once again tried to skirt around the woman but she once more impeded him. Were they dancing? He felt his patience slipping, and it wouldn't be long before the New York in him slipped out and he hurt this chick's feelings.
She came up with a napkin and fussily attempted to pat the wet spot on Damon's jacket. "I knew I should have waited before getting something to drink but I was so thirsty, you know. Dehydrated. I'm not the most coordinated person in a crowd of people."
Damon pulled away from her. "You don't need to do this. I'm good. But I really have to go and you're holding me up."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. Of course an important man like you has places to go."
Damon frowned at the odd comment. "Right."
"But…"
"Lady," Damon bit out. The friendliness in his face and tone, gone. "Step out of my way please."
The woman's chin quivered but she jutted it up proudly, and stepped aside. Damon flounced away now in search of a bathroom. The woman rocked on her heels, and smiled down into her empty glass. When she lifted her head, fury blazed from her eyes.
::::
THEY FELL OUT of the utility closet, Elena giggling, Stefan zipping up his pants. But the giggles ended and spines stiffened at the sight of the person standing on the opposite side of the hall ostensibly waiting for them.
"Unbelievable," Rebekah shook her head.
"Bex!" Elena squeaked.
"Dammit," Stefan whispered.
The blonde tapped her manicured nails on her bare arms. "Your nipple is about to tell the world hello, Elena."
Gasping, she turned sideways and hurriedly tried to fix her attire.
"Let me make sure I have all of this straight," Rebekah began. "Your wife, excuse me ex-wife and brother are fucking and now you," she pointed at Elena, "her supposed best friend is fucking her ex-husband. Do none of you have any fucking self-control?"
"Hey," Stefan planted himself in the middle, shielding Elena who frantically tried to finger comb her bob into submission. "None of what's happening is any of your gotdamn business, Rebekah."
"Sure it wouldn't be any of my business if you four didn't flaunt what you were doing out in the open. I realize perfectly," she lifted a hand to silence Stefan, "you all are adults and can make whatever mistakes and decisions you want. I just hope you realize what it's going to cost you in the end. If you're fine with that," she shrugged and let her thought trail off.
"We're not doing anything wrong," Elena protested.
Rebekah held their stares for a moment before walking away, but stopped and faced Elena whose cheeks were bright red. "I do hope you know you're a revenge fuck."
When Rebekah pivoted to leave, she nearly tripped over her feet because standing less than five feet away was Bonnie Bennett.
Four pairs of eyes widened, four hearts skipped a beat, but only one person's blood pressure skyrocketed.
Two of the three people crowding the hall tried to reach for Bonnie but she was focused on the third individual. If she had to explain what was going on inside of her body, Bonnie would describe it as having her nerves frayed open and losing every pint of blood. She didn't ask anyone to repeat what he or she said because she heard enough. And what she missed she could fill in the context. Elena and Stefan's rumpled appearance spoke for itself. Bonnie backed away slowly, turned, and jetted off.
"Bonnie! Wait!"
She didn't. Bonnie kept going. Kept plowing through the crowd as politely as she could.
Unfortunately her arm was caught and she was snatched backwards and spun around. Bluish-green eyes burned into hers. Bonnie wrestled to free herself. She hated this feeling coiling inside of her because it shouldn't fucking exist. She shouldn't give a damn about what went on in Stefan's life anymore. It was none of her business. Bonnie knew that but feeling it was an entirely different matter.
"Listen to me," Stefan intoned.
"I don't care who you fuck, Stefan!" she said that louder than intended. Heads turned in her direction. Bonnie felt steam coming out of her ears in sheer embarrassment.
"Try lying to someone who doesn't know you as well as I do."
Across the room, she watched with rapt attention, twisting her napkin into a pretzel. All night she had been waiting for them to have a moment, to acknowledge one another and it was finally, finally happening! She bounced on her toes a little wishing she could draw closer to hear what was being said, but she wouldn't chance it. So she would just have to make due with reading their lips and body language. The way they were so close together, the way Stefan held her arm to his chest it was damn near like they were posing for the cover of one of those silly romance novels; she grinned and felt dizzy with happiness.
"Are you using Elena?" Bonnie swallowed hard.
"No."
"Now, who's lying?"
"I'm. Not. Using. Her." We're using each other, he didn't add.
"It doesn't matter. It honestly doesn't. I want you to be happy in whatever form that comes in. That's the truth," vivid green eyes searched his. "Goodbye, Stefan."
And that goodbye had a ring of finality to it he had never heard before.
She watched as Bonnie pulled her arm away and, what the hell? Stefan was letting her go?! He was just going to stand there like a little bitch and let her go back to…Her eyes flew across the room where she saw the dark-haired bastard leave the bathroom. Her face contorted with rage as she saw Bonnie practically fly in the motherfucker's arms.
"Disloyal bitch," she hissed venomously.
:::
Bonnie said the bare minimum on the car ride home. Her phone buzzed constantly with a stream of calls from Rebekah who gave up after three unanswered calls, and Elena who left voicemails and text messages Bonnie forewent listening to.
"What's wrong?" Damon asked the back of her head since she was busy staring out the window. "Did some asshole say something to you about us? Fuck them, Bonnie."
"No, that's not…it."
"Then what?"
How could she put into words she still gave a damn what her ex-husband did with his genitalia? Back in February when Stefan admitted to possibly falling in love with someone else (what happened with that, she had no idea) Bonnie may have experienced a pinch of jealously, but it had been fleeting because she, at the time, had been miserable over losing Damon. Seven months later Bonnie felt she should have been emotionally quarantined. Unfortunately, knowing Stefan had moved on with her best friend irked the hell out of her.
She couldn't say that to Damon without it leading to an argument, and without her sounding like a hypocrite. Bonnie was extremely tired of arguing about a relationship that needed to stay dead and buried. She had to make a choice. They couldn't linger in this weird limbo any longer.
Slender brown fingers wrapped around his pale, meatier ones. Damon stared at their conjoined hands before bringing those marble sized blue irises to his girlfriend.
"The reason I'm so quiet," Bonnie revealed, "I'm saying goodbye. I'm saying goodbye to a lot of things because New York is starting to look really appealing."
He couldn't contain his smile if you bribed him with a lifetime supply of bourbon. Damon was showing all his teeth. "Really? How appealing are we talking? You'll be ready to move in three months appealing, or you'll be ready by next weekend appealing?"
Maybe she took for granted how badly Damon wanted her with him in New York, disregarding it because she had loose ends to tie up. Yet seeing the excitement ripple through him that she was honestly considering relocating, made her feel wanted but also a little ashamed. Ashamed that it took her so long to see how patient Damon had been while she stubbornly held on to the past.
In all honestly Bonnie would need more than three months, but for Damon and for herself she'd consolidate the time and compromise with, "Give me until the end of next month."
Damon pulled her closer and slanted his mouth over hers, giving Bonnie a smacking kiss. "I'll start putting some of my crap in storage or selling it to make room for you."
"I want I live in my own spot," she busted his bubble.
"Hun?" Damon's grin vanished.
"I'm uprooting my life for the second time in my life. The first was when I studied abroad to earn my master's. I've lived with roommates then I got married, so I've never really lived on my own while I'm in a good place. I need that experience. I want it. You're getting me in the same state and city. Let me have my own space."
Sighing, Damon slumped against the leather seat. He bit his tongue. The vision in his head was he and Bonnie living under the same roof in New York, not her living in another borough. But and he hated buts, he would take this as a big step in their relationship and one that moved them closer to the end goal. Already he was mentally planning. They would live apart for a year and after that year he'd pop the question, and then there'd be no way for her to get rid of him. They would be together. Until death did them part, and Damon had already made up his mind they were dying on the same day.
"All right," he said. "But don't say anything if you wake up to discover I've moved in little by little."
"Freeloader."
He kissed her again. "You're not going to regret this. I promise. Driver," he addressed the man behind the wheel. "Make this left. I'm in the mood for Szechuan Garden."
Forty-five minutes later, the town car parallel parked outside of their high rise. Damon tipped their driver and ushered Bonnie and their takeout inside.
While they waited for the elevator, Damon got an urgent text from his assistant. "Dammit, I forgot a file in my car that Alaric needed me to look over and get back to him asap."
The elevator arrived on the lobby floor.
"Head on up," he gently nudged Bonnie on the lift. "I'll be there in a minute."
Their floor, like clockwork, was quiet. She unlocked the door, stumbling inside. Bonnie dumped the plastic bag filled with noodles, rice, and chicken on the kitchen bar along with her purse. Her stomach growled impatiently and as anxious as she was to tear into her meal, Bonnie wanted to get comfortable first.
Humming, she made her way to the bedroom and flicked on the bedside lamp.
If fear could manifest itself outside of a living body, Bonnie pictured it would probably look like crystals forming or frost taking over a surface. The coldness started at her feet and rushed through her, mummifying Bonnie into one solid mass of immobility.
The saliva in her mouth dried up. She didn't know what that was, if it were dead or alive. When it reacted to the light coming on she got her answer and she was gaping into a pair of reptilian eyes.
Cottonmouth, diamondback, or copperhead? Bonnie had no idea what type of snake it was just the fact it was a fucking snake! Curled up in the center of the bed.
She took a step backward and the snake reacted again.
"God…help…"
Its tongue lashed out to taste her scent on the air. The sound of its scales sliding across and over its body filled her ears. Heart beating wildly, Bonnie pivoted on the balls of her feet to run.
"DAMON!"
:::
Parking garages were scary places. Left you feeling boxed in, left you feeling like you were being watched and followed. Damon made quick work of unlocking his car to retrieve his satchel. Once he had it in his possession he slammed the car door closed.
Funny how situational awareness only kicked in just seconds before you were attacked.
Bam!
An object definitively made of metal cracked into the back of his skull. Too shocked to register the pain that burst as if an incendiary went off inside his cranium, Damon instinctively reached for his head.
Whack!
He was hit across the face this time. Lights exploded. Blinding lights. Blood poured and he dropped to the ground, knees and the palms of his hands taking the brunt of the fall. His satchel flew out of his hands, papers scattered. His eyes rolled around in his head, but there was no mistaking the sound of a chamber being cocked.
Cold metal was shoved into his temple. Damon went still and for a second almost lost control of his bladder.
Blinking to clear his vision, a masked person loomed above him. He vaguely recognized the mask. It was from the movie V for Vendetta.
"W-what do you…" he stuttered.
Remember, remember the fifth of November.
"You have twenty-four hours to leave Bonnie," the masked assailant spoke, but the sound of their voice was distorted thanks to a modulator. "If you don't…I'll put a bullet in your gotdam head. But in case you think I'm joking." The gloved finger compressed the trigger.
The fifth of November is Stefan's birthday, Damon thought as and frowned. That's a stupid last thought to have.
A/N: Thoughts? I really do appreciate you guys reading and reviewing. Until next time, kittens.