Damon raises his hand, holding the glass half full with Elijah Craig, 18-years old, single barrel bourbon, his favorite, to press it against his forehead like the freshness of the glass can give him some relief from the horrible pressing of his brain against the walls of his skull.
Everything is a freaking mess and he can barely hold his rage.
Elena is a whining vampire and Bonnie is… The news report flash through his mind: just outside the confines of Virginia, the police found a scalped body; all that was left intact of him was his blond pigtail, visible from under the plastic sheet that covered the body, and his motorbike; and the thought of Judgey doing that just threatens to suffocate him.
He snaps, throwing the glass against the wall.
He hadn't gone back to Elena's place and had just called Stefan to let him know that she couldn't have the ring yet. He had hung up on his brother as he asked why, because what could he tell him? Yes, Bonnie is busy doing her nails and looking like one good fuck. Oh, did I tell you she probably scalped a biker? It will be a great story to tell during holidays.
When Stefan arrives Damon's sitting on the sofa, bent over his knees, holding his head in his hands.
"You were strange over the phone," Stefan tells him, entering the room, "Is everything alright?"
Damon's reaction is a bitter laugh as he raises his head, "Just peachy, little brother," he says letting himself fall against the back of the sofa, "If you don't count the fact that Bonnie is high on black magic and she-" he stops, not ready to say it out loud; the moment he'll say it, it will become real and he can't do that.
"She what?"
"She refuses to make a ring for Elena. Something about not let us use her as handyman or whatever."
Stefan nods and then turns, smelling the wasted bourbon.
"If you waist a glass Elijah Craig it must be serious," he says.
"I think she could hurt someone," Damon continues with a low voice, like he can't bear to say the words.
"Maybe I can talk to her or we could let her see Elena and-"
"I assure you, it won't work."
#
It doesn't work.
Elena's eyes fill up with tears when she tells Bonnie, "I thought we were friends," even more so when Bonnie answers her, "I am your friend. You seem to have an odd concept of friendship, though; because it seems to me that I'm your friend only when I do what you want me to do. Which usually means I am invited to parties only to play the target or to take down someone."
And her, "Don't cry, Elena. You know I love you," does no good because the love doesn't reach her eyes anymore.
Stefan doesn't say anything. He looks at her, she looks back at him and he simply knows her mind is stuck somewhere dark and he cannot reach to her.
Jeremy seems to do the trick for a short moment. She looks like something is faltering; she remembers coming back from the dark because of him, because his life was in her hands and she wanted to save him; save the boy she had loved so much and let herself wish a future with, maybe not a happily ever after, but still days to come and kisses and warm embraces.
None of it reaches her when he talks to her with his boyish voice. She can't even pay attention to him and leaves him standing outside her door.
#
Damon closes his eyes, while he stands a few steps from her house. He stays still while he hears her steady heartbeat; it's different than usual, there is a sharper timbre to it but all the same he can tell she is asleep.
That's good, because if she knew what he wanted to do, she would set him on fire, and not in a fun way. He's agile and he places himself on the biggest branch of the tree that allows him to look into her bedroom. His eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness inside the room and the moon helps him make out the contour of her body under the blankets. Again, he closes his eyes, reaching for her mind. It's like a foreign place, he doesn't know where to slip, where to go, where to find her real self.
The little bird he knows is asleep in a dark mist and he can't do much but watch from the outside. He knows he cannot call to her without the dark rising, so he comes up with the only other option, but to make sure it will actually work he needs to be near her; the glass of the window is a barrier, even for how mediocre it is.
Damon slips inside and towers over her, trying to not make a sound. When she shifts in her sleep he freezes on the spot, fearing she will wake up and ruin all his work, but she just moves making the blanket slip down a bit, just enough to reveal naked shoulders and the beginning of her round breast.
"Fuck," he mouths.
Seriously? He asks himself. Does she sleep in the nude now? It's really a shame he must take her away from the dark side. They truly have such delicious habits on the dark side.
After all, he is the bad guy, he cannot be expected to have white pure intention toward this creature that revealed herself so good at giving him sinful wishes, yet he is there in her bedroom doing his best to not take advantage of the situation, not look at her naked skin, not watch the rise and fall of her chest under the blankets. Trying to be honourable with her.
Because he respects her.
The very idea would bother him to no end if he hadn't other things in his hands right now.
He just swallows and bends over her, trying to reach her subconscious while he feels a cold aura coming from her, and her scent reaches his nostrils.
This better be working.
#
When she opens her eyes she does not stir, does not turn to look at her clock, but just gets up, letting the blankets fall from her and walks naked to her closet. Dressing is the last thing she does, after packing her bag. She does not really knows what she is doing because she is thinking of nothing; there's just this idea in her head of needing to pack and go out as soon as she can: which is twenty minutes.
She gets into her car and drives, and then she parks and goes inside the Salvatore mansion without even knocking because she must be there, needs to be inside and she really wants to know why now.
"What the hell am I doing here?" she asks to a smiling Damon, letting her bag fall to the ground. He looks like the cat that's eaten the canary, so to speak.
"You mean in general, as 'why am wondering the earth, what's the meaning of life in the-"
"Stop playing games, Damon!" she is angry and she looks at him with a scowling face, and then she looks very surprised.
"It's not nice of you to try and give me an aneurysm, you know," he scolds her, pointing his index finger toward her, "But I will not hold a grudge, you see? I am definitely the mature one in this relationship."
"My powers!" she says "They're gone!"
Bonnie brings her hands to her chest, and then to her neck, like she's checking herself, yet, there's no trace of fear on her face.
"Now, don't be so catastrophic, your powers are not gone," he says, "You just conveniently forgot how to use them. Conveniently for me, of course," he clarifies, "See, I paid you a little visit last night. It comes out that our little mental connection works splendidly when you're asleep too. That's good because I'd hate to end up scalped. I have such a beautiful skin and we've been together so long that it would hurt me to be separated from it."
Her smile is sinister and he wishes he could just ask her if she did it. Just, he's not sure if he wants to hear her answer.
"I learn fast," she says.
"I enabled your mind," he says shaking his head "You cannot use your power until I let you."
"We'll see," she says, turning to leave, only to stop at the doorway. She can bring herself to put her hand on the knob but not to turn it. She just stays there, stupidly holding the knob for long seconds, every muscle of her body tense 'til it hurts, until he tells her in his most innocent voice, "Oh, did I forgot to mention, you can't leave the house either?"
Bonnie turns around to look at him, and he just slaps himself on the forehead "Silly me!"
She licks her lips and takes a breath, going back to him. Closer this time, so much that he can almost smell her.
"You're fun, in your own way," she admits.
"I feel myself blushing all over," he answers and she holds his eyes.
"I bet you do."
He forgot that this one is not the Bonnie he is used to: the one who would call him names when he embarrasses her; this one does not get embarrassed.
"I am having fun too, you know. And I was so boring, wasn't I?" she asks him, getting near. Her chest is almost brushing his and he can't back away without accord some sort of defeat, so he stays still, while she speaks with a very suggestive tone, "This is the new me. Wouldn't you like for us to be close friends?"
He ignores the question. "There was nothing wrong with the old you," his voice low, like he's revealing himself a secret.
She's not pleased by the answer but doesn't give up because she expected a little resistance from him, if anything, to save his face.
"Oh, com'on Damon," she says, letting their proximity work on his nerves, "You could stop being Elena's loyal dog and be mine instead. I don't wanna hurt you, but you know you'll always get the crumbs. And even if I'm always scratching," she says with a hot look, "I'm sure I can make you like it."
Well, he is sure too- if it makes her feel better.
Damon holds her eye and bends his head to reach her mouth. He then stops inches away to spell, "I'm not letting you go," and it makes her mad enough to push him away with all the strength of her seventeen years old body, which is funny, considering that those are the words Bonnie had always wanted for someone to tell her.