It is sad, he thinks, to observe such an absence of curiosity in the minds of the generation he must claim to belong to. Stefan is quite sure no one has ever heard of Sergei Saltykov before, but he doesn't mind because the sharp instinct of the girls around him – or maybe something else – makes them glance in his direction as walks about, slow and careful like a predator.
He never went so far as to say Saltykov was a man he admired – that preference has always been declared by Damon, from what he can remember – but tonight he feels like he can't be anyone else.
Sergei Saltykov was a Russian officer, his family descended from a sister of the first Romanov tsar. He had had the bad luck to fall for the Empress Catherina the Great, whom was constantly watched over by reliable servants by her jealous husband Peter III. Catherina was isolated, unloved and incapable to change her condition, so Saltykov took upon himself to play the role of her romantic savior, carrying out the most dangerous, reckless ploys for the sake of seeing her and showing her his affections. To her hostility he responded with tenderness, and he was bold where she was fearful, welcoming a death warrant if that was what it meant to court her. He managed to be her lover for two years, under the nose of her husband, to the point of being the real father of their heir.
Their passionate affair ended when Peter III, strangled by doubts, sent him away to Sweden, where Saltykov's reputation had forerun him and every noble woman longed to be his next lover.
He grins, thinking how oddly fitting that role is now.
#
Caroline is the first to enter the hall, and because every girl has at some point wished to be a princess – and she more than anyone – she's dressed like Alexandra Romanov. Tyler has lacks the bearing of a royal as he accompanies her by holding up her hand, but she doesn't. She's all grace and knowing smiles, like she's rehearsed the role before – he doesn't doubt she has. It's part of her charm, he thinks with a light grin.
Alexandra was more than a little fanatic and to all intents she bullied her husband – which he would like to see now, actually.
More than a few heads turn as they pass. Caroline's look is so rich, her dress so perfectly sewn, that he can hear the awe around him from girls that are surely sadly reconsidering their own attire at the moment.
He'll steal her for a dance later on, before he leaves, just so he can compliment her on how beautiful she looks.
Elena and Damon enter the room arm in arm. She looks confident and ready to take over the world with the power of the innocence Anna Boleyn could so skillfully fake to lure the eye of her future husband, future judge, future widow, Henry VIII. From the strained smile on his brother's face he can imagine the idyllic life could soon come to an end, and Elena might find herself brutally cut out of it – pun fully intended.
It's another fifteen minutes before he catches Matt's figure smiling warmly to those that turn to look at him with a perplexed look on their faces. Someone laughs watching him walk around with a big rug rolled on his shoulders, as he carries it carefully to the centre of the dance floor.
When he puts it gently down people automatically steps back to make space because he looks like he is about to unroll it before their feet. Stefan can hear them asking, "What is he doing?", "Is he part of the decorating team?" Someone actually comments on his ass when he bends to untie the rope and take the edge of the carpet, but then the music lowers – surely because even the DJ is actually confused about what's happening – and Matt pushes the rug forcefully, unrolling it to reveal the golden, surpassing beauty of Cleopatra VII Thea Philopatore.
This is the way the Empress entered the graces of Julius Caesar – rolled in a carpet that Apollodorus the Sicilian was carrying – instantly enchanting Caesar with her grace and her boldness, appearing like a Venus arising from the waters.
Bonnie manages to still herself in a pose worthy of a true dancer, elastic and graceful, standing with no hustle while boys turn to her like they just witnessed a divine vision. Stefan knows they did.
She smiles, half flirty, half shy and accepts Matt's hand when he extended it to her. She shines in gold, walks barefoot and her dress is see through at the bottom, revealing nothing but her ankles and the toned shape of her calf muscles and yet it infinitely more suggestive then the square, large neckline many girls are sporting.
He can't help but think how easy it would be for her to grab on to him and wrap those fine legs around his waist as he carries away to a more secluded area where he can melt away the gold barrier and kiss the skin that hides.
Stefan glances away to find Jeremy standing like an idiot, mouth open, gasping like a fish out of water, while his date tries and fails to get his attention.
He turns to find Damon with a serious look on his face, eyeing Bonnie like she's a ticking bomb and gulping down a drink from the hip flask he has brought with him. He never meant to open his eyes about the true nature of his feelings for Bonnie – it all worked like a chain reaction and he wasn't able to control the damage. In fact, he is about to be the willing victim of his own doing, and yet, looking at her feminine, sensual figure he can't really complain about that.
Truth is, they are all doomed.
#
She says she's not in the mood to dance, but she does so with the prettiest smile, and she chats with any boy who will gather enough courage to speak to her. She doesn't pretend to not see the effect she has on them but she's equally gentle to everyone, unless they act too rashly, because she doesn't like to give away her power just because someone finds her beautiful. They should, unless they were born both blind and stupid.
They fill her paper cup and she lets them, has them do anything that pleases them except letting them touch her –she's a fantasy just come to life, but elusive and distant. And the frustration grows, as does the myth of her.
Caroline compliments her with a rush of words that has her laughing genuinely – making her appear more human, warm and approachable, reinforcing the desire and the hope of those around her. Elena manages a smile as she admits her defeat with a look that actually resembles constipation. Stefan watches it all from afar.
She only dances with Matt, who instantly becomes the envy of the boys and the new object of female fantasies. He has promised Bonnie to dance only with her – he apologies to the girls asking him – but he's regretting it now, he says to every girl he has to reject so that it will not sting as much. He was always popular in school, but now he is a super star. The only sad thing is that he will never take full advantage of that – but maybe, he can still get his fun out of it – Bonnie thinks with a grin.
Her phone vibrates in her pochette and she takes it to read the text. I've enjoyed seeing you tonight, it says. Bonnie looks around but cannot see him. It's not a surprise. Stefan won't be seen if he doesn't wish to, and it seems like he doesn't, much to her displeasure.
Are you leaving already? She writes back.
New lesson in seduction, he says, if you're aiming to enchant you can't stay under scrutiny for long, or the magic will inevitably disappear. Always leave when you're at the peak so that your sudden absence will become an obsession and the memory of you will glow in their minds. She doesn't know if he's talking about himself or is actually suggesting her a strategy, but it all makes sense and she's obtained what she came for, after all.
"I think I'll go now," she says, turning around to speak to Caroline only to find Damon sporting a bored expression. Still, she's too satisfied tonight to let it rub her the wrong way.
"Donovan is collecting the fruits of his hard work," he jokes, directing his look to Matt, who's talking to one of the prettiest girl in school. "They're actually getting in line for him," he explains, "I think they could get aggressive if the enchantress of the night tried to cut in." He grimaces and she's left wondering if he truly just paid her a compliment.
"I can ask someone else," she says, uncaring.
"Who?" he asks, amused, "The drooling ex-boyfriend? Or one of those idiots that would really love to take your desire to leave as your desire to leave with them?"
She likes to flaunt how wrong he is; just, this time around, he's not. It's a hateful experience, agreeing with Damon Salvatore. She loathes when that happens.
"You have that face," she says, making him grin, "That face you have when you just came up with a plan I'm not going to like."
He shrugs and the corners of his lips go down as he casually says, "I'll give you a ride." To her surprise he doesn't make it sound dirty – she's almost disappointed.
"Exactly," she deadpans.
"Or you can pick whoever you won't mind having end their night in a police station for sexual assault. Your choice," he says, raising his hands like he's surrendering to her will, which is something she would like to see, actually.
"This is new," she says, scrutinizing him, "You managed to look like the lesser evil."
"I'll try not to take offence to that," he replies with a grin, leading the way with a gesture of his arm.
She can feel his presence behind her, strong, heavy, and towering above her petite figure but not intimidating at all. In the large hallway the voices resound, bumping from wall to wall. The lights are low and she can't tell where the sounds come from. A couple is pressed against a wall, heavily making out without any sense of decency or shame. It's embarrassing to witness that while she's leaving with Damon. She has no doubt people seeing them now think they're probably trying to find a private spot to do the same. It makes her shiver, but she's not entirely sure it's only with disgust.
She's so deep in her thoughts she doesn't realize two boys – already drunk – are cutting in front of her and Damon pulls her back with his hands on her shoulders.
He doesn't ask if she's alright but his hands stay on her and she looks up over her shoulder to find his blue eyes darkened. She nods instead of actually thanking him and he lets her go, following her once again.
In the car Damon doesn't say a word, doesn't even look her way, or at least she never notices that he does. The quietness makes her realize he actually looks horribly dashing; the muscles of his shoulders and arms look tense and she wonders what has him so worked up, if he and Elena had a discussion. Still, she's not going to ask because they don't have that kind of relationship.
When his car approaches her house, she looks down to unhook her seatbelt and she doesn't see Stefan on her porch. Damon does.
She's about to open the door when the older Salvatore stops her, "Wait," making her look at him.
"In case I forgot to mention it," he says, before looking away, "I think you broke more than a few hearts tonight." His included, if he were suicidal enough to admit it, he realizes meeting her sweet green eyes.
She smiles at him, leaving him dazed for a moment, so much so that it takes him longer than necessary to understand what she says to him – Thanks for the ride – as she gets out of the car.
He stays still, watching her move onto the porch, the lights of his car illuminating her steps. Stefan isn't there anymore.
#
She pulls down the straps of her dress, breast spilling free from the tight model she's wearing, and pushes it down to lay in a white pool at her feet. She takes off her jewels without looking, letting them fall on her dresser. She doesn't touch her hair, kept up by pins, so that they won't get wet as she takes her shower.
She hums a song that comes to mind suddenly, a sad one that clashes with her good mood. Samson came to my bed, she sings, told me that my hair was red, told me I was beautiful and came into my bed. Oh, I cut his hair myself one night.
She can easily keep the tune and she looks the way Eve probably did when she asked Adam to sink his teeth into the apple. He could never tell her 'no,' he realizes as he looks at her through the glass of the window.
Bonnie walks past the mirror and stops to look back at herself. On her shoulders there are the marks of Damon's hands. Her skin was warm because of how crowded the ambient was and the gold had softened.
She takes off her panties and steps into the shower. The hot water easily melts away the gold from her skin. The air fills up with the scent of her shower cream, a blend of incense, rare spices and acacia flowers. The glass door is covered in vapor and he can hardly make out the shape of her body and but still she is everything he wants to possess. A hunger so great it tears him apart from the inside, knowing well he's not supposed to be here, taking advantage of his vampire powers to spy on his obsession, entering the bathroom soundleddly to watch her and inhale her scent.
She starts to hum again, she seems to remember what the other words of the song are because she sings, "A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light and he told me that I'd done alright, and he kissed me 'til the morning light, the morning light."
When she turns around and opens the door glass he's not there anymore.
#
She pressed herself back against him, feeling the shape and thickness of his manhood against the curve of her ass, at the base of her spine. It's such a lovely feeling she feels like crying. Her hands are open on the wall and she can hear him moan against her ear as he takes her lobe between his teeth.
"Please, please," she begs, strangely feeling empowered by the recognition of her own desire. Bonnie spreads her legs, feeling the warm proof of her arousal leak against her skin. He sinks his face against the curve of her neck, and she can feel him nuzzle at her with sharp teeth but doesn't fear him. He growls like a wounded animal, like she's actually the one with all the control, and she feels like she is.
Like she's going to receive it all, but give only if she feels so inclined. One of his hands moves to the front of her body, cupping and squeezing her breast while the other goes south to find the place where she's empty.
Two fingers slip inside to find a gorgeous rhythm that has her pushing against his hand, her hip undulating so that at the same time she rubs her roundness against him.
"I want you," she moans, and his hand leaves her breast to reach hers, pressed against the wall. She can see his large, beautiful hand, the ring with the lapis lazuli but her sight is clouded with pleasure and she can't read the letter on it.
His other hand holds her by the waist and he enters her with one deep, smooth trust, which has her shuddering. His breath comes in short gasps and he thrusts into her with dedication, his body strong and hard against her as he confesses, "I want you more, so much more."
The pleasure of having him filling her up and the blood pumping so loud inside her ears won't let her recognize his voice; but still, he's giving her what she wants and she's going to take it.
She's going to take it all, she thinks again, as her eyes snap open in her vacant bed and she catches her breath. She is.
#
Note: It will never be revealed who the one watching Bonnie is, nor who's the one with her inside her dream. You can chose to believe whatever it fits/pleases you the most, I will do exactly the same (but please review and tell me who you picture in those scenes, I wanna know so bad). Since I barely waited a day to update again I think it will take me awhile 'til the next update, but I hope you enjoy this chapter, I had fun writing it. The song Bonnie sings is "Samson" by Regina Spektor.