Sweet Nothing
"You took my heart and you held it in your mouth
And, with the word all my love came rushing out
And, every whisper, it's the worst
Emptied out by a single word
There is a hollow in me now"
-Calvin Harris, & Florence Welch
"So, what's the verdict?" Damon asked, as he leaned against the headrest of Bonnie's chair, in the kitchen, and peered over her shoulder. "Are you a genius or a degenerate?"
Bonnie shook her head, as she used her finger to scroll through the website on her laptop, and she bit her lip when she came across the most nerve-wracking thing she'd look at all week: her final grades.
It'd been a week since she completed all of her classes at NYU, and her marks were supposed to be up by now, though she was way too scared to even look at them. With Damon's encouragement, and annoyance, she was finally biting the bullet, and looking to see if all of her hard work had actually paid off.
She could only hope that all of the worrying had been completely unnecessary, on her part.
When she finally came to the page that possessed her transcript, she felt her palms sweating and her fingers shaking as she began to search for the spring semester. When she finally came across them, her heart nearly stopped when she read the grades for each of her five classes.
She'd gotten an A in every single one.
"You have to be kidding," Bonnie said softly, and she inhaled deeply when she felt Damon move in a bit closer, and his mouth settled just at her ear.
"Breathe, Bonnie," he whispered.
She blinked furiously as she stared at the screen, and her mouth dropped slightly.
In all her life, Bonnie Bennett had never been a straight-A student. Sure, she managed to get well enough grades to remain on the Dean's List or the Honor Roll, and she did enough extracurricular activities to place them on her college applications, but she'd never been that girl that was perfect at anything. She was still a bit confused as to how she actually got into NYU, considering she never really thought she'd get in when she applied.
She secretly believed that her father, Rudy, spoke to someone on the admissions board. He was pretty well-known at Whitmore College back home, after all.
But seeing these grades—seeing her hard work finally pay off for something—was a bit astounding for the young girl. She couldn't help but wonder if this was just some sort of sick joke, or practice of wrong doing.
And that's where Damon probably came in.
"I—How—Did you compel someone?" she immediately asked, as she whipped her head around to face a complacent Damon Salvatore, who was smiling gently with his arms across his chest.
"Come again, Bennett?"
"You heard me," Bonnie said, as she rose to her feet, and stood before him strongly, though he towered over her, easily. "Did you compel my professors to give me good grades?"
"What makes you think I would do that?" Damon asked, as he dropped his hands, and Bonnie scoffed as she pushed past him, and began to walk out of the kitchen.
"I knew it."
"Knew what?" Damon asked, as he followed her into the living room, where Bonnie was pulling on her jacket. "What the hell are you on that you think that I would do that, Bonnie?"
"Why wouldn't you do that, Damon?" she suddenly asked, as she turned to face him, and his face soured. "I've never had straight-A's, ever, Damon. And all of a sudden, you come around, I'm some sort of flawless college student? Don't I have a right to be suspicious?"
"You have a right to be impressed with yourself, because I didn't do anything," he said, and Bonnie's lips shut immediately. "I didn't go to any of your professors and mind fuck them into giving you better grades, Bonnie."
"Then how did this happen?"
"Gee, I don't know—maybe because you're smart?" Damon asked, as he stepped in closer, and Bonnie exhaled a deep breath. "A lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, sometimes, I think."
Bonnie remained silent as Damon pulled her hands from her chest, and gradually drew her in towards him. She considered yelling at him for even daring to put his hands on her, again, but she realized she couldn't, for she was lost in the absolute beauty of his eyes, again.
As the bright blue portals shone with such tenacity, she felt herself falling faster and deeper, just as the seconds passed.
They really needed to stop meeting like this.
"You know," he began, as his fingers moved across hers, and she felt the heat of her skin immediately rising with each stroke, "I really miss the days when you were the one fighting to make me believe in you. Not the other way around."
Bonnie gulped at his words, and looked away when she realized that he was right.
In the past, she had always been the one keeping Damon on his toes, whilst making it clear that she was completely capable of doing big things whenever he doubted or provoked her. With every lick of banter between the two, she'd always made it her mission to make Damon believe in her, because it also helped her to believe in herself. If someone of his snarky, non-believing, and super tough demeanor could find it in his head, and in his heart, to put his faith in her, then she could too. He unknowingly pushed her to try better, and go harder, and it had been the stem of the majority of her confidence as a witch, back then.
But now? The tables had not only turned, but were completely flipped over.
Damon was the one fighting for Bonnie to believe and trust in herself. Damon was then one knowingly instilling her with arguments to keep her head up. Damon was the one battling for Bonnie to stop doubting, and she had become the cynic. She almost couldn't believe her eyes that this had happened.
Bonnie looked up into Damon's eyes, and she realized he was still holding onto her hands. She cleared her throat as she pulled them away, and shrugged her shoulders gently.
She needed to put her walls back up, immediately.
"Things change, Damon—"
"I know," he said, as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, and never removed his eyes from hers. "But at the same time, they don't… And they can always go back to the way they used to be."
Bonnie swallowed hard at that, as she realized the double-meaning behind his eyes. He didn't have to say anymore for her to understand what he was really getting at.
"I… think we should celebrate you rocking your spring semester, like a stud," Damon said, as he took a few steps in, and Bonnie tucked a strand behind her ear when she realized just how easily the glow in his eyes was barreling down on her.
Damon's eyes were always saying something—and right now, she couldn't even begin to master the ability to form words that would successfully convey them.
Better yet, she could—she just realized she was far too embarrassed to even get onto that level of thinking.
"What did you have in mind?" she asked, as she stood firmly, though he was all of sudden right before her and his fingers were brushing her hair away from her face. She tried her best to control her breathing, but it probably the hardest task she'd taken on yet, as his hand trickled across to her neck, and rested as the nape, with such familiarity.
All it did was remind her of the ways their make-out sessions in the past always started; her, with a hard exterior, masking the face of a girl who really just wanted to be touched, and him, with that incredibly serious but completely calculating stare, that sometimes knew her better than she even knew herself.
Because he always knew her. And he knew what she really wanted—he always knew that it was him.
"I don't know," he said softly, as his thumb brushed across the vein in her neck, and he looked into her olive eyes. "Wine's always good. Or even some champagne… both two very good options that I can definitely sink my teeth into."
Bonnie breathed deeply as his fingers dropped down to her jacket, and he began to unzip it in such slow motion, it absolutely burned her. The daze was quickly starting up again, as she stood there numbly, while he, again, drove her completely crazy.
Bonnie shut her eyes, and she instantly regretted it, as a flood of thoughts and memories infiltrated her, all at once.
She could never escape them.
"Damon, stop," Bonnie said, in-between kisses, as she swallowed hard, and the vampire looked into her eyes. "W—We shouldn't be doing this."
"You sure?" he asked, as he struggled to catch his breath, and he licked his lips. "Because you're the one on top of me."
Bonnie immediately slid off of Damon's lap, and onto the other side of his king size bed, as she stared blankly before her, and tried to structure her thoughts.
"There, problem solved," she said breathlessly, and she felt Damon sit up beside her, as she busily began to re-button her shirt. "As simple as that."
"Not as simple as that," he replied, and she gasped when she felt her back hit his mattress, and he landed on top of her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, as she looked up at him.
"What you want me to do," he said, in a voice that chilled her down to her core.
Bonnie felt Damon's lips collide with hers, once more, and she moaned when his hands roughly brought her face to meet his. She shut her eyes tightly as his mouth moved to her neck, and she felt him boldly rip her shirt open at the buttons.
"That was expensive," she breathed, as her nails slid beneath his shirt, and he laughed softly, as his lips pressed to her ear.
"You'd look better in one of mine, anyway."
Bonnie growled at that, but she didn't say a word—she was, once again, speechless by this.
It had been one month since Damon's birthday—when the two had an intense moment in the kitchen—and ever since then, this new thing between them had been strangely continuing.
She liked to believe that the first time was just a fluke; that she only let him kiss her and touch her because she was bored, and it was his birthday, and it would never happen again. She believed they'd never talk about, bring it up, or explore that again. They were both just lonely, and that's all there was to it.
Damon didn't want Bonnie, and Bonnie didn't want Damon; they were both just looking for absolution.
She laughed when she realized just how wrong that was.
Not only did they kiss again—the very next day—but they had been, every single day, since then. It hadn't gone any further than that—yet—but with Damon's persistence and sexiness in general, she was sure it was on its way. The fact that he had gotten her to come over here at 1 o'clock in the morning, after a few banter-filled text messages said a lot more than she ever could. He had finally gotten to her, and she had, undoubtedly, become his new challenge.
Bonnie was like his very own form of medication. Damon was her perfectly imperfect distraction.
While Stefan was busy tending to Elena, and everyone else was moving on with their lives, they were here, fading into the shadows, and falling into each other.
What first started because of necessity—the need to just have someone—was quickly turning into something else, whether Bonnie wanted to believe it, or not. She was falling for Damon, just like she had fallen for Klaus—she was falling, again, and she wasn't supposed to be.
So, with each touch, pull, push, and sigh, she was sure the witches on the Other Side were piling up their consequences, and getting ready to unleash them on her any minute now. Only this time, she considered that their punishment may have actually been worth it.
"You're frisky tonight," she said, as she watched him pull his shirt off, and her eyes followed the definition of the muscles at his arms. "And you don't care about getting caught."
"Why would I?" he asked against her skin, as his lips headed for her chest. "We're both single; we can do what we want."
Bonnie tried to relax at his conscious words, because she knew that he was right; they were both single, and perpetually heartbroken. Why weren't they allowed to just act on their animal instincts, and do this with each other, without the fear of judgment from everybody else? Why couldn't Damon and Bonnie have a little fun?
She grabbed him at the hair as he moved to her stomach, and Damon growled against her skin as he looked into her serious eyes. He sighed.
He was in for a lecture of some sorts. He just knew it.
"I don't think this is a smart idea," she said, and he rolled his eyes. "If we go any further, Damon, it'll complicate things. And… I actually kind of value you as a friend—or whatever you are."
Damon licked his teeth, and sat up straight, as he brushed back his messy hair. She was right; sex complicated things always, for him especially, and doing that with the only friend he had left was a recipe for disaster.
But that didn't stop him from wanting her so badly.
"I know—you're… right, for once," he concluded. "It'd be a genius idea to quit this while we're ahead."
Bonnie nodded in regretful agreement as she sat up as well and smoothed her long, dark waves.
All of this willpower that they were having was exhausting. She almost hated the fact that she had such a big conscious, and Damon had this inept propensity for listening to her so goddamn often. She almost wished he'd rebel; that he'd say no again, toss her right on her back, and give in to everything that they had been holding back for all these weeks.
Because she wanted that—she wanted him, and there was nothing else to it.
But she knew that he wouldn't. Besides the fact that he didn't want to risk losing her or making her angry, whatever Bonnie said to Damon generally didn't fall upon deaf ears.
He actually listened to her, and she appreciated that. Even if she didn't believe in half of what she was saying, nowadays.
"I should go," Bonnie said softly, as she looked down at her shirt that was now missing a few buttons where Damon ripped it open. "It's late, and I need some sleep."
Damon watched as Bonnie slid out of his bed and she walked towards her shoes that sat on the ground. She ignored the feeling that threatened to consume her, as she felt his eyes burning through her, with such an alarming intensity. If she looked at him now, she didn't know what would happen, and she wasn't willing—or ready—to take that risk.
But what saddened her is that she knew he wouldn't ask her to.
Bonnie reluctantly turned to face Damon, and he was already staring up at the ceiling, with his hands behind his head, and his focus completely enamored by the blankness of it all. Her eyes coursed over the perfection of his pale skin, and she bit her lip when she realized that she was slowly, but surely, driving her own self insane.
He hadn't said a word, yet, he'd somehow spoken to her in more ways than one.
Bonnie fidgeted with her fingers as she walked back over to the bed, and he turned to face her, with a look of gentle surprise as she laid down beside him, and silently gazed up at the ceiling, as well.
"I don't have to leave," she confessed, as she inhaled a sigh.
"Then don't," Damon answered, as he completely turned to face her. "Don't leave."
Bonnie pressed her lips, but she nodded quietly, before turning to look at him as well; her emerald eyes studying his with such close precision, as their faces stood just inches apart. Every breath taken by him floated along to her skin in such a magical way, she couldn't help but feel intoxicated by it all.
Damon Salvatore was just that intoxicating, in general.
Bonnie pulled his blanket up to her chest, and she didn't say anything more, as she watched him move in a bit closer, until their noses nearly touched. She felt his hand rest at her thigh, and she shut her eyes at the warm sensation that was his skin, as his fingers slid up to her waist, and softly pulled her in, again.
"This… is the last time we can do this, Damon," Bonnie mentioned lightly, as his hands moved all over her and her eyes remained close. "We can't change things."
"Then I better make this last time count," he whispered, and she sighed softly when his lips finally met hers.
Bonnie's hands rose to his face and Damon's tongue slowly moved against hers as he planted a deep and passionate kiss on the girls lips. She immediately felt like morphine had been shot directly into her veins as his mouth formed against hers, and she wondered if she'd be considered clinically insane for even daring to give all of this up for the sake of their "friendship."
She decided that she was.
When their lips parted, Bonnie turned away to face the opposing wall, as Damon reached for the light on the end table, and turned it off. He settled back into his mattress, with Bonnie's back pressed to his chest. His fingers gently moved across her cheek, before he held his hands at her waist, and she breathed comfortably against him.
"Goodnight, Damon."
He couldn't get all that he had wanted from Bonnie, but for now, this would have to do. Sleeping beside her would have to suffice for all of the things he couldn't have; all of the things she wouldn't allow them to explore, together.
"Goodnight, Bonnie."
"Are you up for it?" she heard, and Bonnie re-opened her eyes, to see Damon still standing there, with that look on his face, and Bonnie breathed as she felt his mouth move dangerously close to her.
"Huh? Up for what?" she asked, and he smiled loosely, as he took a step back, and eyed her smoothly.
"IKEA," he said, and her brows furrowed. "I need a lamp. And maybe a new dresser."
Bonnie glanced at him blankly, but finally shook her head when she let it all settle in. Damon wanted her to go to IKEA. She could relax now; there was no reason to freak out any further.
"H—How is this celebration for my grades?" she finally asked, and Damon smirked as he looked into her eyes and cocked his head.
It wasn't. And he had other plans in mind, for that. The look in his eyes said that, loud and clear.
"Ready to go?" the vampire asked, as he slipped on his leather jacket, and she nodded as she re-zipped her own, and they headed for the door.
Damon gestured to her to walk out first as he held the door open, and a few moments later, the two were easily down the hall, and walking towards the elevator to begin their journey.
Damon glanced at the girl as she pressed the button on the elevator to go down, and she struggled to face forward, though the temptation in his gaze as it fell on her was all too much.
He knew exactly what he was doing. And if she let him have his way, there would be no turning back.
XXXX
"Which one do you like better? The blue or the black?" Damon asked as he held up two different throw rugs, and Bonnie rolled her eyes as she gripped the shopping cart, and sighed.
"They both look exactly the same, Damon."
"Bullshit- the blue is better," he concluded, as he tossed it into the cart, and they continued walking throughout the massive factory-styled warehouse. "I just love this place. Don't you?"
Damon's quest to get a "lamp" and "maybe a new dresser," really turned into him picking up twenty-five different things to renovate the apartment with. It was hilarious and annoying, all at once, to watch the vampire making such a big fuss about their living space. Damon was a lot more neurotic than he was willing to admit. It was sort of a breath of fresh air realizing that she wasn't the only crazy one around here.
"This is, by far, the last thing I imagined I'd do, today," Bonnie noted, as they strolled past the dining room area, and Damon continued to glance at everything. "I haven't been to IKEA in ages."
"But aren't you glad you came?" Damon asked. "We now have a new coffee table. And those curtains you picked out. We did real work here."
Bonnie snorted at that, but she was actually fighting really hard to contain her smile that threatened to shine through. A trip to IKEA was, by far, the stupidest, but most refreshing thing she had done in a while. With the stress of the Spring semester finally coming to a close, it felt nice to just relax, for a bit.
Even if her form of "relaxation" involved Damon, and wallpaper options.
"We probably should have invited my brother and Blondie; I think they've been shopping all week for things for their new place," Damon said, and Bonnie sighed.
"Yeah, maybe," she said shortly.
Damon turned to face her, with a curious brow raised to the ceiling, and he crossed his arms over his chest.
"Let me guess; you and Barbie are still weird?"
"Not 'weird,' just... taking baby steps," Bonnie offered, and his brows furrowed. "We're on good terms, but I... don't want to rush back into it."
"Rush into it? Bonnie- she's one of your best friends. Not some sketchy guy you met at a bar, or something."
"I know, and that's why I actually care about this, Damon. I want things to go back to normal, but I just need some time to re-adjust. I don't wanna do too much too soon. Besides- she's not out on her own. Laila got her my old job at the bar, and she's meeting so many new people. She's being Caroline, and I'm happy about that."
"Fine, fair enough," Damon said, as he held up his hands passively. "But what about my brother? Are we ever gonna talk about him?"
Bonnie rolled her tongue over her teeth, and shook her head.
Before Bonnie could respond, her cell phone began to ring, and she sighed with relief when she pulled it out of her bag, and glanced at the name on the screen.
Laila, just in time to distract her from this mind-numbing conversation that she really wanted no part of, to begin with. She'd have to thank her for that, later.
"Hey, what's up?" Bonnie asked, as she held the phone to her ear, and Damon took control of the cart, and they continued to walk.
"So, can you believe I got four kegs, an ice luge, and like thirty bottles for tonight? I kind of think I'm over-doing it, since this is all so last minute, but then again- I don't really care. I'm really excited," Laila babbled, and Bonnie's brows furrowed as she bit her lip in confusion.
"Uhm, what?" she asked. "What are you talking about, Laila?"
"My party tonight, of course. To celebrate the end of the semester, and the start of the summer... Did Damon not tell you I called this morning while you were in the shower?"
"No, he didn't," Bonnie said, as she averted her eyes to the vampire strongly, and he smirked devilishly. "He didn't say anything about a party."
"My mistake. It must have slipped my mind," he winked, and Bonnie groaned.
"Ugh, well, please tell me that you don't have plans. I'm expecting over a hundred people at my loft tonight, and you're kind of obligated to be there, since we're best friends, and all."
Bonnie glanced at Damon viciously, before she sighed, and clutched her phone tighter.
"Of course I'll be there, Laila. It'll definitely beat putting together my new coffee table at my apartment with Damon," she said slickly, and he feigned a smile.
"Excellent," Laila said. "Be here by ten, that's when everyone should be coming by. See you tonight- get ready for total alcohol domination!"
Bonnie scoffed as Laila hung up, and she turned to face Damon with a less than pleased expression on her face, and he shrugged his shoulders.
"What?"
"Why didn't you tell me that Laila was having this party?" she asked,as she folded her arms, and Damon pursed his lips. "You've known since this morning."
"Probably because you would've talked her out of it, even though you're the one who wanted to celebrate." he replied, and Bonnie huffed. "It's like your allergic to fun, or something."
"I'm not allergic to fun," she hissed, and he grinned knowingly. "I just... like doing things that are a bit more low-key, is all."
"Yeah, well, I happen to think one hundred people on the guest list is low-key," Damon replied sweetly. "
"Whatever. I don't care; just stay out of my sights tonight. Whenever I'm around you, I end drinking gin and tonic, and manly-guy-beer, and I think I wanna take it easy, tonight."
"Sure thing then, Bon. Me and my 'manly-guy-beer' will stay out of your way," he agreed, and she nodded. "Wuss."
Bonnie scoffed and hit Damon's arm with her fist, and he laughed heartily in return. It seemed as though provoking Bonnie had become his favorite hobby.
"Let's just pay for this stuff and go, okay? I've gotta find something to wear," Bonnie replied.
"I hear your birthday suit is perfectly acceptable."
"You're an ass."
"Oh, don't you know it, Bennett."
xxxxxxx
"So, how do I look?" Caroline asked, as she walked out into the living room, and her black heels clicked against the hardwood floor.
Stefan looked up from his reading, and he nearly forgot what he had been doing before, once he laid eyes on the vivacious blonde.
Caroline was dressed in ruby red, pleated, swing halter dress, and her blonde curls were perfectly layered at her chest. Her pale skin seemed to glow exceptionally well in the light; highlighting her soft makeup, and crystal blue eyes.
He could tell she really went all out for this one.
"Laila said to be dressy, but I hope I'm not too dressy, and-" she began, and Stefan stopped her.
"You look... really beautiful, Caroline," he said, and a warm smile cascaded across her lips. "I mean that."
Caroline bit her lip shyly, and looked to the ground, before back into his perfect, emerald green eyes. Stefan was still watching her, all the while.
"Thank you," she said softly, and he blinked at that. "Really... thanks for... everything, Stefan. For... moving here with me, finding our apartment, putting up with my inability to put my make-up away," she babbled, and he laughed. "You're a great... friend," she said, and he sent her a small smile.
"You are too, Caroline," he answered, and her lights instantly lit up. "A lot better than you know."
There was a long silence between the two, and Caroline sighed as she tucked a strand behind her ear, and approached the mirror on the wall. She pulled her MAC lip gloss and began to apply it, when she heard Stefan stand to his feet, and begin to approach her.
She inhaled a deep breath, and tried to ignore the feeling of her bones tingling as he stood behind her. The burning in his eyes forced her to turn around and face him.
She nearly regretted it when she did.
That chiseled jaw, and that perfect, chestnut flavored, hair; she quickly became enamored by them, though she knew she shouldn't have. This was Stefan, and they were just friends; they always had been.
Too bad that didn't stop her from thinking about him the way that she did.
"Do I really have to go to this party?" he finally asked, and Caroline cocked her head. "And this blazer- is it necessary?"
"Yes and yes," Caroline said, and Stefan groaned. "I already told you, Stefan; we live in New York Freakin' City. You're not spending the night here, sulking alone, when there are drinks to be had and morals to be forgotten," she said, and he laughed. "You're going."
"Fine," he relented, and Caroline smiled. "But can we lose the tie, at least? I think I can go without it."
Caroline grinned as she yanked at the bottom of it, and he stumbled in, a bit closer. She gulped as her eyes averted his, and she began to busily adjust the tie.
"I think the tie looks good," she noted. "I command you to wear that as well," she said, and Stefan smiled as she gave him a strong pat on the chest. "Shall we go?"
Stefan nodded, as Caroline grabbed her purse, and began to make her way across the living room. She let out a mini-yelp when he stopped her in her tracks, just before the door, with emerald eyes glowing strongly.
"Stefan?" she asked curiously, and he let out a sigh, before he placed his hands into his pockets. "What's wrong?"
Everything was wrong.
After what Damon said last week—about Caroline apparently having "feelings" for him, and him being too warped to notice it, because a part of him was still hung up on Elena—he'd been thinking about it every single day.
Stefan cleared his throat, as he felt Caroline's eyes on him. He finally looked up from the ground, and shrugged nonchalantly.
"I… wanted to talk to you, about something," he said, and Caroline cocked her head, as her brows scrunched accordingly. "But I—It can wait."
As he turned to walk away, Caroline quickly grabbed his hand, and he stopped. He looked into her questioning blue eyes, and he felt her fingers trail against his, in an extremely slow, but fascinating way.
It completely ruptured his thoughts.
"You can tell me, Stefan," she said softly, and he licked his tongue across his teeth. "What's on your mind?"
Stefan breathed steadily, as Caroline's glance never dropped from his. He'd made a mistake even bringing this up, right now—or ever. Maybe he was just better off pretending.
Maybe he was better off just not caring.
"We're gonna be late—"he began, as he started to move, and Caroline's strength stopped him.
"Better late than never," she said firmly, and he didn't blink. "Seriously, Stefan—"
"Let's just go, okay? Before I completely change my mind," he answered, and Caroline sighed as he removed his hand from her own, and headed towards the door.
She stood there, motionless for a bit, as she took it all in, before grabbing a light jacket, continuing towards him.
She didn't know what Stefan's problem was, and by the tone of his voice, she wasn't going to find out anytime soon.
This was already shaping up to be an interesting night.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"I've already had five shots of Jack Daniels, and I am not nearly as drunk as I want to be," Caroline muttered to Bonnie, as the two girls stood at the counter in Laila's kitchen, with their drinks, surveying some of the party-goers as they went in and out.
"Yeah, well, I've had three, and I have a feeling I'm going to regret it," Bonnie replied, as she smoothed her hands over her fitted and sleeveless beige dress.
It rose just above the knee, and lay open at the back, with sequins at the shoulders—dressy enough for the occasion, without looking like she was about to step foot into the Academy Awards. She tucked her long, dark hair behind her ear, and puckered her red lips, as she tapped her fingers against the counter anxiously.
She was seeing stars already.
"Well, you know what they say, Bonnie—if it's something you're gonna regret in the morning, sleep in late," Caroline offered, as she opened her second beer, and Bonnie let out a small laugh.
She would never get sick of Caroline's reasoning.
"I can't believe so many people are here," Bonnie said, as she glanced around at some of the familiar faces—others, she'd never seen a day in her life. "Laila knows everyone."
"She sure does," Caroline said, as she sipped the Bud Light, and then turned to face Bonnie. "Speaking of 'everyone,' where's Damon? I'd imagine he'd have to check in with you, by now," Caroline said, and Bonnie scoffed.
"What makes you say that?" she asked, and Caroline rose her eyebrows knowingly. "Oh, no. Laila got to you, didn't she?"
"I wouldn't agree if it weren't true," Caroline replied, and Bonnie rolled her eyes. "You two are like… destined, Bonnie! But you're all content ignoring it," Caroline said, and Bonnie snorted.
"I'm not ignoring anything," Bonnie answered, as her fingers continued to rattle against the counter. "I just… I'm keeping it simple, okay? We're friends—and that's all there is to it."Caroline shook her head in disbelief and let out a sigh. "Besides—what about you and Stefan?"
"What about us?" Caroline asked boldly, and Bonnie laughed.
"Oh, Caroline."
"We're friends," she replied sarcastically. "We're keeping it simple," she added, and Bonnie raised an eyebrow at that.
"That isn't your choice, is it?"
Caroline looked down at her beer and took a long sip, before she gazed back into Bonnie's olive eyes. She finally shook her head, and Bonnie frowned when she noticed the unhappiness in the blonde's eyes. She moved in a bit closer, and Caroline lowered her voice.
"I just… I want to know how he feels, but I'm too afraid to ask him. And I—I think he was going to say something today, but he didn't. He didn't say anything."
Bonnie pursed her lips at that, and shrugged lightly.
"Maybe he's just afraid, Caroline—he's scared he might ruin things."
"And I'm not?" Caroline asked, with wide blue eyes. "I'm terrified Bonnie, that I feel so much for him, and it's like… It's like he doesn't notice, or he doesn't even care. And it sucks—because I know that I shouldn't think that way, but I do. I—I know that he's not over Elena. And who knows if he ever will be."
Bonnie took Caroline's hand into her own, and she let out a sigh.
"You're amazing, Caroline. You are. Because you're beautiful, and strong, and you care, so much, about everyone else around you; even when they don't deserve it. And if Stefan doesn't realize what he has, right beneath his nose, then that's his problem. Because you're amazing, and you deserve somebody who isn't afraid to tell you what they feel for you."
Caroline smiled sadly, before pulling Bonnie into a tight hug, and the brunette sighed as her face buried into her shoulder.
Caroline deserved somebody who wasn't afraid to admit what they felt for her.
Damon deserved that, too.
When the hug ended, Caroline groaned as she placed her empty beer on the counter, and forged a strong smile on her face.
"I think that we need to dance, now," the blonde said, and Bonnie smiled gently. "Seriously—let's just go out to the living room, and dance."
"Okay," Bonnie laughed, as she took Caroline's hand into hers. "Let's just dance."
When the two pushed their way through the drunken crowd, and finally got out to the living room, Bonnie shook her head incredulously at the sight that was laid out before her.
Not only was no one dancing, but Damon was directly in the middle of all of the action, with a plastic guitar in hand, surrounded by Stefan on the fake drums, and two other girls she didn't know, playing Rock Band on Laila's 60 inch television.
The music blared loudly, though Damon's voice outdid everyone's in the room, as he somehow got every person in there singing along with the music playing on the screen.
The song? Bon Jovi's "Livin' On a Prayer."
"They've been doing classic rock for the past hour," Bonnie and Caroline heard, and they turned around to see Laila with a Red Bull and Vodka in hand, before she took a long sip and shook her head. "The Salvatore Brothers are the actual life of the party," she said.
Damon looked completely elated, as he played the finishing chords of the song, and the girls around him erupted into cheers, as he grabbed a beer, and downed in easily.
Bonnie felt the twinge of something swelling within her when one girl, in particular—the one who had been on the mic, actually—wrapped her arms around him, in an extremely lingering hug.
Even worse, Damon was actually smiling at her, too.
Bonnie had seen enough.
"Okay, everyone—time for the D.J!" Laila called, almost conveniently, as she made her way over to the T.V and shut it off. "Time to dance—I mean it."
Bonnie's thoughts suddenly got drowned out as the dance music began to play, and the lights disappeared—leaving only the presence of some flashing strobe ones that decorated the room, almost immediately.
The crowd erupted into cheer and began to dance, without a second thought.
It really was that easy, in New York City.
She watched as Laila and Caroline ran out onto the dance floor, and instead of joining, she walked the opposite way.
She needed a drink. Bad.
Her chest immediately bumped into someone's, and she groaned when she looked up, and she realized it was Damon.
He was smirking, naturally.
"Having fun, yet, Judgy?" he asked, as he placed a glow stick necklace around her, and she sighed as she looked into his eyes.
She didn't know why, but she was infuriated with him.
"I'm great. Move, please," she said, as she attempted to push him out of the way, but Damon stopped her, as he moved into the door way. "Seriously, Damon—"
"Why are you so hostile?" he asked, as Bonnie's green eyes glowed. "It's a party—we're all having fun here."
"Because I need a drink, and you are directly inhibiting me from getting one, right now."
Damon cocked his head at that, and Bonnie watched as he suddenly stopped a girl who was walking by, by the arm, and gazed into her eyes strongly when he caught her attention.
"Sweetheart, I think you should let me have that bottle of tequila, and you can go get another one. Okay?" he asked.
The girl nodded mindlessly, as she handed Damon the bottle, and she walked away just as easily.
Bonnie's mouth dropped, as she hit his shoulder, and he smiled deviously.
"Damon, you can't just compel people here," Bonnie whispered harshly, and he twisted off the top to the bottle, and took back a long sip, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Oh I can't?" he asked, as Bonnie's eyes narrowed. "Hold on—let me test it out."
Bonnie felt her fists tighten, as he pulled the next girl who walked past in towards him, and his eyes connected with hers, in that hypnotic way that Bonnie had seen far too often.
Before Damon could utter a word, Bonnie yanked him away by the hand, and out into the hallway, where she pushed him against the wall, roughly by his shoulders.
"Seriously, stop," she said strongly, and Damon grinned as he took another sip, and his brows furrowed.
"I'm just having fun, Bennett. Relax. It's not like I've fed on anyone, yet."
Bonnie's eyes squinted, as she wondered if she had just heard those words pass his lips, correctly.
"Yet?"
"It's been a really long time since I've had anything live, and I'm going crazy here," he said, and she folded her arms. "So, unless you're volunteering—"
"I'm not," she said dryly.
"Fine, your loss," he said, as he handed the bottle of tequila over to her, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "But a guy's gotta eat. And this is my best opportunity. So, if you'll excuse me—I have a co-ed to snatch. If I get this over with quickly, I won't have to bring her home, and you won't have to see her in our kitchen drinking your orange juice," Damon stated, sarcastically.
Bonnie watched on as he walked away, and she felt her frustration only growing with each second. She made her way back into the kitchen, that was deserted by now, as everyone else was around and about Laila's loft, dancing, drinking, smoking, and having a good time.
She inhaled a deep breath as she paced the floor, and she began to feel a strange feeling of anger surfacing with each passing second.
What was triggering this? Why was she feeling so pissed off?
Bonnie grabbed a clean shot glass off of the counter, and she quickly filled it with a serving of tequila, before she downed it almost immediately.
She did two more shots, before placing the bottle before her, and resting her hand around the base of it.
"Breathe," she whispered to herself, in the silence of the kitchen. "Just breathe."
Bonnie closed her eyes and she inhaled, as she felt the steady rage building within her bones beginning to boil over, despite her best efforts to control it.
She was mad—enraged, even, and she had absolutely no idea why.
Was Damon's behavior really enough to get her this upset?
No, she thought; or at least it shouldn't have been.
For as long as she'd known him, he'd been a vampire, and this was how he did things. He compelled, fed off of, and manipulated people. She never tried to change that, but she was also never the one to let his behavior go unpunished or unnoticed.
But now—after everything that she had become, herself, did she even have the right to judge his decisions or actions? She'd been a monster too—no better than he was—so shouldn't she just chalk this up to the fact that Damon was just being Damon?
She didn't know.
Her attention was disrupted when she attempted to leave, and she bumped into another body; this time, one that housed an unfamiliar face.
"Oh, hi—I'm sorry," Bonnie said softly, and the guy before her held up his hands defenselessly.
"No, excuse me—I didn't see you in here," he replied. "Did you… need some help? You seem lost."
"No, I'm not. Laila's my best friend-I know my way around," Bonnie said, as she ran her fingers through her hair, and shook her head. "I'm just really drunk."
"Tequila does that sometimes," he replied, and she smiled lightly, as he cocked his head. "I've had a few bad experiences myself."
Bonnie remained quiet as she watched him, and her eyes studied him longingly before she finally cleared her throat.
"I—I'm, uh, sorry. But have we met?" she asked, and the mystery guy turned to look up at her.
In all of the minutes that had just passed, she was only now beginning to realize just how striking he actually was.
His green eyes remained focus hers and his dirty blonde hair shone beneath the lights of the kitchen in such an enamoring way. When he moved Bonnie bit her lip when she realized just how tall he was, too.
She liked tall.
"I don't think we have," he said, as he stepped in, and extended his hand, with a warm smile. "My name's Chase; I came in to get a beer."
"Bonnie," she said, with a glimmer in her eyes. "I'm seeing double vision."
Chase laughed gently, as she shook his hand, and he released it just as slowly.
"Don't worry- I won't tell a soul."
She breathed deeply when a strange sense of happiness settled over her.
The fact that she was feeling happy in the presence of some guy she didn't even know was already a tell-tale sign that she was pretty wasted.
She wasn't too wasted, though, to realize that he was also really hot, and extremely sweet. She actually felt sort of grateful.
"Thanks," she said gently. "I guess I owe you one."
Chase smiled as he backed away, and made his way over to the Heineken. The silence that passed between them was electrifying.
He grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator, and tossed her one quietly, as she easily caught it in her hands, and remained with her eyes on his.
"Don't make me hold you to that, Bonnie," he winked. "Enjoy the rest of the party."
"You too," she said softly, though the smile on her lips was completely obvious.
It was much more obvious.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"You're a good dancer," the girl said, as she wrapped her arms around Damon's shoulders, and they moved in rhythm with the song blaring through the stereo system.
The vampire spun the thin brunette in his arms, and she giggled when he pushed her against the wall. Her hazel eyes met his in a strong glare, and Damon immediately knew that he had her exactly where he wanted her.
She was drunk, horny, pretty, careless, and completely reckless—the perfect type that he wanted to feed on. And if he were lucky, he wouldn't even have to compel her to do it.
"Let's go somewhere quiet," the gorgeous brunette drawled, as her hands trailed beneath his shirt, and pulled him in tighter. "Now," she whispered.
Damon smirked at that, as his hand brushed away the strand of her hair that lay on her pale skin, to reveal the vein he'd been eyeing all night.
He turned back towards her.
"You don't wanna do that," he replied, and her nude lips pouted, as her hands rose to his hair. "I'm bad news, my dear," he said, and the girl laughed gently as she shook her head.
"Prove it then," she challenged, and Damon ran his tongue over his teeth. "Show me how bad you are."
He glared at the girl, and let out a short laugh. She remained equally amused as his hand was at her neck again, and she bit her lip. Whoever the hell she was—he hadn't cared enough to get a name—was making it pretty difficult for him to pretend like he didn't hear the faint sound of her blood pumping through her veins.
With every swing of her hips, and bat of her eyelashes, he felt his fangs growing, and his hunger pangs multiplying.
He wanted blood now. He damn near craved it, in fact.
"I have a fetish," Damon said lowly, and her eyes followed his carefully, as he pursed his lips. "I like to bite—hard. I have a thing with… teeth."
Nameless Brunette smiled as she moved in closer towards him, and stroked his hair.
"That's not so bad."
"It's worse than you think," he whispered, and her eyes widened as his slowly flashed to red, and she squinted her eyes.
"How do you do that?" she asked gently, and Damon didn't respond, as his teeth elongated.
Without another word, he placed them to the nape of her neck, and she shut her eyes tightly, as her fingers grasped at his locks, and held his head firmly. Damon's fangs trailed along her skin, and she gasped as they slowly began to pierce her skin.
Suddenly, Damon felt his body being ripped away from the girl's, and he growled when he turned around and the face he saw was none other than Bonnie's, staring at him with angry eyes.
She instantly grabbed him by the hand, and pulled him into a makeshift "dance."
He knew better than that, though; she was about to completely rip him a new one. He could easily make out her enraged eyes in the dark.
"Are you serious, Damon?" she asked angrily, and he smirked as he clutched her hand tighter, and moved with the rhythm of the music.
"I warned you, didn't I?" he said smoothly. Bonnie shook her head in disbelief. "Let's not act like you were surprised, Judgy. You know exactly what I'm about. You're not Elena—you've believed it all along."
Bonnie looked down to the ground, and felt her eyesight dizzying much faster than she would have liked.
She really shouldn't have had all of that tequila.
"You're right, Damon," she said, as she looked back up. "I know exactly what you are; and I've never been fooled by it," she said through her teeth, and his blue eyes glowed, even in the almost pitch blackness, that was only illuiminated by the strobes that flashed continuously. "You're cold, and you're angry. And vindictive. A—And you're an asshole; you are probably the biggest asshole that I know, because you don't care about anything," she accused.
Damon spun her around to face him, and his head cocked.
"And you're jealous," he said firmly, and her brows furrowed. "You're jealous that this cold, angry, vindictive, asshole would even dare to pay any attention to somebody who wasn't you, tonight, aren't you?" he asked, as he moved in towards her, and Bonnie stood tall.
"Why would I be upset about that? We're not dating-"
"You know exactly why," Damon snapped back, and she pursed her lips. "Because it's you, Bonnie—it's always and only supposed to be you. And you're kidding yourself if you think that it'll ever be anybody other than me," he said, and she shook her head angrily.
Bonnie felt the tingling behind her fingers again, as she stared at him, and cursed herself when she could still make out every single feature of his perfect face.
Damon moved in a step closer, and she shook her head, as she backed up.
"Get away from me, Damon."
"Why?" he asked roughly. "Afraid you might do something that you actually want to do?" he asked, and she gulped silently, though the music blared throughout her head.
That's exactly what she was afraid of.
She figured this would be a bright time to tell him that she didn't exactly mean everything she had just said; about him being cold, and careless, and angry. Because she knew him better than that- she knew there much more to Damon Salvatore than met the eye, and if you had asked her on any other day to describe him, those wouldn't have been the words to come to mind, after all that they had been through. Not at all.
He had been right about her, though; she was completely jealous of the girls that he had been talking to and hanging all over the entire night- without a doubt. Because she knew that he was just doing it to anger her, and it had actually worked.
Her pride, however, would never let her admit to that; she could never say that Damon had been successful in making her feel things she didn't want to feel, because in her eyes, that made her weak.
She didn't want to need him, this much. She didn't want to want him, either.
His hand pressed to her waist, and she wanted to singe his fingers off for making her feel such fire beneath her skin. She shut her eyes, and the buzzing within her veins only grew as his hand cautiously slid down her thigh, and comfortably smoothed up beneath the bottom of her dress.
She bit her lip. He was driving her absolutely crazy.
"It's me, Bonnie," he said gently, onto her ear, as his fingers continued to explore her skin, in a painfully slow way. "You don't have to be afraid of me."
Bonnie gulped as she re-opened her eyes and they met his. A shiver ran down her spine when she realized his touch was only rising higher, and his eyes were lingering longer.
"Maybe I'm the one who scares me," she said so quietly, she was sure he was the only one who heard her.
"Well, you don't scare me, Bennett- you never did," he replied, and Bonnie inhaled as he stepped in closer.
His lips connected with her neck, and Bonnie's hands immediately clutched his hair; drawing him in, even further. They continued to move with the rhythm of beat, and Bonnie felt an all new euphoria running through her, as Damon's fangs brushed against her throat.
She didn't know why, but it turned her on.
"Let's get out of here," Damon said, in a nearly inaudible whisper, and Bonnie nodded blankly, as he took her hand into his, and led her towards the door.
She didn't bother to re-adjust herself, at this point, as he led them out of the room, and through the flood of party-goers still dancing in the hallway.
By the looks of it, she was going to be a complete fucking mess before the night was through, if Damon had anything to do with it.
And by the way he was gripping her hand as they walked out of the loft, and almost urgently towards the elevator, he was completely going to have everything to do with it.
She definitely planned on sleeping in late, tomorrow morning.
A/N: Hello, everybody! So, my flight to San Diego out of NY got cancelled because of that nasty hurricane we got here, and as a result, I channeled all my frustrations into a brand new chapter. Yay for having lots of time on my hands! haha. What did you all think about this one? From Bamon banter in the beginning, the flashback, to IKEA, to some unsaid stuff between Steroline, to the party, to BAMON moments at the party? ;) thoughts on what happens next? R&R! & thank you, as always, for reading. I love your feedback!
