Elena shifts in her chair and looks at Bonnie through her huge brown eyes, widening when Bonnie pauses.
"Wait-" She interjects, and Caroline looks as if she will shush Elena, leaned forward in her chair to hear the story as she is. "You're telling me you think Elijah wants to marry you?"
"I didn't say that," Bonnie mutters, but Caroline shakes her head and shifts again on the chair, full of nervous energy.
"You implied it," Caroline huffs, pushing her straw more firmly into the strawberry milkshake. "And you know we're not stupid enough to let comments like that fly by."
Bonnie taps her fingers on the counter, scrubbed clean of ice cream stains, and looks round as if she is waiting for him to come in. "I keep...it sounds stupid, but I keep bumping into him in so many odd places."
"Elijah's never had a girlfriend," Elena interjects helpfully, "Although Katherine had a crush on him for two days when she was eighteen, she says she's never even heard of him being linked to anyone, guy or girl."
"He's too careful. Elijah's basically an old man in a young guy's body." Caroline wrinkles her nose, distaste for the Mikaelson's present in the gesture. "I can forgive you being friends with Klaus because he's not really one of them, but please don't marry Elijah. He's pretty much destined to take his father's place in life."
Bonnie's mind wanders for a moment, and she imagines marriage with Elijah. She can't imagine anything but the most proper courtesies, separate beds and the obligation to give birth to a child, but she can't imagine him raising a hand to her. Then again, she doubts Esther imagined what a bastard Mikael was when she married him.
Matt comes out of the back room and sets up the till, and Bonnie and Elena watch with interest as Caroline tries to stab her strawberry milkshake and ends up stabbing the table.
"He's looking at you," Elena tells Caroline, and sure enough Matt is staring at Caroline from his place at the front of the parlour.
"Okay," Caroline says, glaring at the wall. "Let him stare. I won't talk to him."
"What happened?" Bonnie asks, watching as Caroline steadfastly refuses to meet his eyes. "Caroline, I think he might be coming over."
"Well he can't!" Caroline's voice cracks a little, and Bonnie shoots a sharp look at Matt which stops him in his tracks. "He can't come over because I don't want to talk to him."
"What's wrong?" Elena rubs a soothing hand over Caroline's back. "I thought Matt was a good guy."
Caroline shakes her head and pushes her strawberry milkshake away from her. "He is a good guy. Apparently I'm 'not right' for him."
Elena shrugs and forces a comforting smile. "Hey, there are other guys. And if he doesn't see how great you are he doesn't deserve you."
"I liked him," Caroline wails, and Bonnie winces. "And now the only reason he wants to talk to me is because he feels bad."
She heaves a great sigh and puts her head in her hands.
Bonnie and Elena share a look over the top of Caroline's head and Bonnie forces her to look up. "Let's go back to mine. At least you won't have to see him."
Caroline threads her hand through Bonnie's as they walk, and Bonnie's thoughts wonder to Stefan and whether she will ever be able to confront him.
Elena squeezes Bonnie's arm and shakes her head. "Don't worry about it," She says, and Bonnie feels her heart swell and thanks god for her friends.
X
Marcel accepts a glass of champagne offered to him by one of the waitresses as he enters the hall, slipping a hand into his pocket and ignoring the stares he receives.
He's too used to commanding attention wherever he goes, probably because of the air of power he has learnt to carry around his shoulders like a shield. He turns to the side, careful to look nonchalant as he scans the room for Rebekah.
She's standing in the centre of the room, holding her father's arm and making polite conversation with someone he recognises as a leading arms manufacturer who made his fortune during the war. Rebekah's blonde hair falls in a sleek waterfall over one shoulder, and her dress is emerald silk, colour changing as it catches the light from the chandelier.
Marcel grins as he thinks about what it would be like to snatch her from under Mikael's very nose.
And then he makes his way over, catching her attention over the shoulder of her suitor.
"Rebekah," He cuts in, placing his half empty champagne flute onto a passing waiter's tray. "Dance with me."
She narrows her blue eyes but allows him to kiss her hand, ignoring her father's enraged splutter as she leads him out to the polished dance floor.
"Is it about Nik?" She asks, and although her face is carefully controlled as her breeding demands, Marcel notes the panic behind her eyes.
"Klaus is doing fine," Marcel says smoothly, elevating her tension. "In fact, he's rising faster than I expected. Seems to have quite a desire for blood."
Slowly, deliberately, he runs a finger over the smooth skin of her back. Rebekah rolls her eyes and presses the edge of her heel slightly into his foot.
"So why are you here?"
Marcel knows that most of the couples dancing here are trying to listen into their conversation, and that any minute now her father will storm the dance floor and separate the two of them politely as he can. So he focuses his eyes on the flower display over her bare shoulder and speaks with the kind of unhurried grace of someone with all of the time in the world.
"Klaus expressed concern over you. And I've got a free position if you're willing to work."
Rebekah exhales tightly and Marcel knows that she is having a fierce internal debate with herself. And that her doubts will pile onto the welfare of her siblings and she will turn him down if she has enough time to think.
"You can let me know by tomorrow," He drops a quick kiss to her cheek and leaves her there on the dance floor, looking back to catch the sharp smile she throws him over one shoulder.
He loves a lady who knows how the game is played, Marcel muses as he slides into his car and drives away from the event.
X
It's still light outside when he pauses outside Bonnie's door, and the sky is only just beginning to bleed into an orange. Stefan looks at the door and balls his fingers into a fist, trying to summon the courage to slam it against the painted wood.
He is pretty sure Bonnie will understand. At least, that is what he has spent the last week telling himself. It's the longest both of them have gone without speaking to each other and Stefan has been telling himself that she's just busy.
She moved her stuff from her office the very day of her confrontation with his father, and he's heard the staff talking about how much they miss her, and how she's currently in the process of finding a new job.
Behind him, someone clears their throat gently and he pivots on his heel to find Klaus there, looking as if he's been watching him. Stefan blushes the slightest bit, then wonders if the reason Bonnie's been so absent recently is because she's been off with Klaus and finds his rage growing at the thought.
"Don't let me stop you," He says bitterly, and moves back in the general direction of his house. Klaus' hand on his arm stops him in his tracks.
"You had her," Klaus is quiet when he speaks, but Stefan knows the weight he gives words and understands that Klaus has thought this very carefully through. "You had Bonnie and you let her go and you're an idiot."
Stefan's face contorts in an instant and the muscles in his body tense as he waits. "Bonnie's not a prize, Klaus. You can't win her off me. She's a person."
Klaus shrugs. "You know what I mean. You and her are over, Stefan. There's too much between you now."
In the moment, Stefan shrugs the words off his shoulders like water off his back and resolves not to dwell on them, although they will come back to him much later, when he is alone in his room.
"So what are you trying to say?" Stefan fights now, to keep his voice controlled and Klaus stiffens in response. "Because I want you to know, what Bonnie and I have is love. It's the kind of love we spent building, that is going to take years for you to even think about breaking. And even after everything, it will still be us. She chose me, remember?"
Klaus snarls and grabs Stefan by the collar, slamming him straight into the paint of the Bennett door with a crash that Bonnie hears at the other end of the house. "Your mother killed my brother!"
Stefan stills under the grab of his hands, and Klaus moves away, face pale and drained.
"It wasn't me in the car-"
"The only reason your mother was in that car that night was because of you, Stefan. You killed Henrik." Klaus' sags against the wooden doorframe and when he speaks next, his words are so full of hate that Stefan recoils. "And she still chose you."
Stefan is grateful that Bonnie chooses that moment to open the door, because he's not sure how things would have escalated had they been left alone. He takes her in and does his best to pull himself together, noting that her green eyes seem exhausted.
"I wanted to talk to you," Stefan sidesteps Klaus and prays Bonnie will let him in. Her eyes shift straight over to Klaus, still slumped against the brick of her house.
When she speaks her voice is quiet, and her fingers are soft against his shoulder. "I'll come by tomorrow, Stefan."
Stefan watches the door swing shut as Bonnie leads Klaus into her house from the doorway and wonders whether this is the end of them.
X
In the nights since she finally got hold of the house once more, Bonnie lies awake in her bed at night and tries her best to sleep. In the shifting hours between dawn and day where the sky is trying to decide what colour it will be that day, she gives up and rises from her bed with a huff.
Klaus and Stefan have been on the back of her mind since yesterday, and her fingers itch as she runs a quick brush through her hair. She would give anything- anything- for them to be friends again, to break the mould as both their mothers would have wanted.
There is the glimmer of an idea, that if she hadn't showed up here their friendship would be fine, but then she thinks of Henrik and Stefan's mother and grimaces, shrugging off the thoughts of the dead as best she can. Her fingers move to her throat instinctively, closing around Stefan's key. Bonnie will have to take it off soon, she knows.
She makes her way downstairs, sliding her fingers over the cold metal vines of the banister and closing her eyes.
Bonnie grew up here. She's found herself, more often than not stopping to take in the scent of the place she has now called home (so different from scented lavender) and sending a quick thankful prayer that she still lives in this place.
When she finally takes a seat at the kitchen, her dad has two cups of coffee waiting instead of his usual one. It's a routine they have developed since Bonnie's new sleeping pattern has taken hold of her.
"You've become an early riser," She accepts the coffee cup he slides over to her and takes a sip, grimacing.
"You always forget to add sugar."
"Sugar just masks the taste of the coffee, Bonnie. You've got to learn to like the taste or there's no point in drinking it."
"It wakes me up, doesn't it?" Her dad merely shakes his head and heaves a mock disappointed sigh.
"I can't believe I raised a daughter who doesn't like coffee. Shame on you."
Bonnie laughs and watches as her father's expression grows more serious, the smile playing on the corner of his lips disappearing.
"About the house, Bonnie. Your Grams doesn't know. I know she told you she could handle stuff, but her heart isn't doing great at the moment. And she's got to take it easy with the stress, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell her about the mess you got us out of."
He waits for her to nod, then drains his coffee cup, squeezing her arm on the way out.
X
"I'm not coming back there tonight," Katherine spits and downs the liqueur shot she'd poured herself from the open bar. Elena looks pained as she shades a hand over her eyes and Katherine feels a pang of pity for Elena, so bogged down with duty and responsibility that she's working herself to the core.
She'd better be careful, Katherine thinks wryly, fingering the costume jewellery hanging from her neck and flashing a smile to the middle aged heir sitting across the bar, or she'll have nothing left.
"Please," Elena begs and Katherine raises an eyebrow and shrugs off her sister's hand from her arm. "Please Katherine, Jenna's started worrying already."
"It's not going to happen," Katherine snaps and taps her nails onto the bar surface, waiting with a cocked head for her to disappear. "Tell Jenna I'm safe and I'm happy."
Elena looks as if she might cry, standing there all weary and stressed in her work clothes and Katherine wants to bundle her up in her arms and tell her to get some rest. Instead she shrugs off the emotion, and pushes Elena towards the door. "Go on," She tells her, and Elena does as Katherine tells her (she has always done as Katherine has told her) and makes her way to the door, biting her chapped lips.
It's only when she's gone that Katherine can breathe again and pour herself another shot, the alcohol helping to burn her freezing stomach. Jeremy went without food two nights ago, she remembers as she surveys the room with a critical eye. It can't be allowed to happen again.
She'll find a job, Katherine promises herself, the liquor casting a warm glow over her. A proper one.
In the meantime, a man with a Rolex clasped firmly on his wrist is making his way towards her. They'd gotten electricity much later than everyone else on their street, Katherine remembers, and she remembers sitting by the light switch once it had been installed and flicking it, on and off and on and off.
Katherine sends him her most alluring smile, pursing her lips and praying to god he isn't drunk.
"He's twice your age," Rebekah Mikaelson slides into the stool beside Katherine and she has to stifle her groan. Everyone seems to be expecting her company today, she thinks.
Rebekah's in a deep emerald gown, the colour bringing out the ice blue in her eyes perfectly. That and the three pounds of makeup she wears plastered on her face, Katherine thinks, raising her glass with a false smile.
"I like my men old."
"You like your men any age," Rebekah corrects, leaning against the counter. "Only, you prefer them rich."
Katherine stiffens for a moment, then shrugs, watching as Rebekah takes a sip from the brandy she is nursing. "I'm finding men a little boring at the minute," Katherine admits, locking eyes with Rebekah and smiling a slow smile. "I seem to have sampled them all."
"You won't make a good marriage here, Katherine," Rebekah says. "Your name is far too famous in London."
"Do I look like I want to be a docile housewife?" Katherine spits, arching her neck and trying to search for a familiar face. For a Thursday night, the place is relatively empty, and what little guests there seem to be are already occupied. She might actually end up at home before two in the morning, Katherine thinks with a grimace.
Rebekah shrugs. "You've still got the family name, you know. You might get a good package out of it if you marry below your station."
Katherine shoots her the most withering glance she can muster. "You know, I don't remember asking for your opinion." And then she glides off the barstool and leaves Rebekah there with a swirl of her silks (out of fashion, out of date silks, but the lowlight dims that well enough) making her way out with a wave to the bartender.
Rebekah has a point, Katherine thinks as she makes her way home, clutching her wrap to her chest. She's never held the kind of romantic ideals that Elena did- she'll marry for money and station, not love. If she finds a man rich enough, she can settle her family into relative comfort.
But still, she grimaces, she can remember a time where she wanted nothing more than to travel the world. Katherine pauses for a moment, squinting through the night fog as she sees a figure in front of her, liquor bottle clasped in one hand. She'd recognise the breadth of those shoulders anywhere. "Damon?"
Ahead of them both, the yellow headlights of a car begin to bleed through the dark.
"Hey, Kat," Damon says, and he hasn't called her that since she was a child and they both used to play together, before her parents died and her world collapsed. Before Damon came back from war with lines around his face and a sudden inability to smile. Before-
Damon smiles like he used to, fine lines bracketing his face disappearing. Then he steps into the road.
A/N: sorry for the cliffhanger! It was just a natural break in the story. Do you guys wanna see more klonnie or stefonnie or bonlijah? or maybe katherine/bekah because I love love love the thought of them being friends. And bonnie's family obviously because they're pretty central to the story.
Anyway, next chapter we meet Stefan's 'fiancee'
Thank you so much to star palace, nethy, leni18, bluemagicrose, nickinarcissitxoxo and anon for your lovely reviews, they really motivate me to keep writing. And maybe next chapter will be a little happier...maybe ;)
