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After the breakfast table was cleared, Katherine had suggested they forego their morning stroll along the river bank for a game of Spider and Fly.
He and Stefan were to be the monstrous spiders, and her, the innocent fly.
"What will be my prize when I catch you?" Damon smirked.
"You will never be able to catch me, Damon," Katherine intoned, running in her heeled slippers, never minding the dirt and debris the hem of her skirt picked up with each foot fall as she dashed out of the garden into the surrounding woods.
Stefan beamed at him and said he knew her hiding place and briskly headed towards the direction of the creek, but Damon didn't follow.
Damon had been chasing her for weeks, not just in their impromptu morning game, and he was weary of the chase and the competition; and he decided it was time for her to make a choice and she had to make a choice that morning and not a minute more after, because he was sure he would go mad if she evaded his embrace any further, for the more she refused him, the more he wanted her, yearned for her, obsessed over her.
He followed his hunch of where she might hide, bounding into the woodlands, headed for the graveyard, and he yelled out for her, "Why must you tease me so?"
When he did not hear her laughter or the rustle of her dress, he thought maybe she had run off to this supposed hiding place that Stefan had gloated about so his brother would be the one to find her.
He muttered a curse word hoping for a sign of her through the dense fog.
And then right when he was about to give up, to concede, and was furiously planning to ignore her existence while they shared a roof. She simply appeared. It was if she had been hiding in the heavy dew, masquerading as the misty air itself.
He pinned her against a tree before she could taunt him again, covering her red mouth, his hands twisting her slender wrists behind her as he crushed his body into hers.
"I'm claiming my prize." He panted with his hands pulling up the length of her dress. And she slid her lips down the length of his neck, sucking and tugging at his skin between her teeth, ending all of his frustration as he melted into a singular need to belong to her.
And then, she bit down.
Hard.
Incisors pierced through the thin flesh of his collar; the hungry suckle and grunt filling his ears, and there was a sound of terror caught in his throat as she pulled her bloody mouth from his neck and laughed, showing him that he had been the fly all along.
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Bonnie isn't startled out of her sleep for the first time since acquiring Damon's many memories, not even when her own neck feels like two needles have punctured through her as she caresses a phantom wound at her bare collar.
Cold sheets are tangled in between her legs, butterscotch thighs over white cotton.
Her eyes adjust to the dim room and the way the world looks upside down.
She is naked and alone.
Damon left her a message written in black magic marker over a page torn out of the phone book; he had scribbled that he had gone out, but not to worry, he wasn't going to be gone forever.
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"I got coffee and donuts, Bennett."
He clears the laminate table, pushing the cards and the bottles aside, glaring at the empty bed and the tousled sheets and listening to her heartbeat quicken in the restroom from the sound of his voice.
Speaking to a locked door, he rambles, "I drove around and asked where I could find a decent breakfast and Sammy-Rae from the closest gas station told me this place has the best damn glazed donuts this side of the Mississippi."
She emerges from the bathroom, skin red and steaming from a scalding shower with the towel clasped together in her tight fist. And he feels that alien emotion again, the one that drove him to rise before daybreak and escape the honeymoon suite before she woke and decided their fate.
He rode around the sleeping city and thought about draining his anxiety out with blood or booze. Sammy-Rae was an intended victim, he even went through the trouble of compelling the middle-aged woman behind the counter after she had given him the breakfast recommendation, but all he could wonder about as he hypnotized her glassy grey eyes is if Sammy Rae's family was waiting for her to get home from her night shift, and he became peculiarly disgusted with himself and decided to pick up the donuts instead.
Bonnie sits at the edge of the bed, the bath towel edging up her thighs, "We need to talk."
So this was to be the conversation, he thought, the dreaded discussion about what was going on between them, what did their lovemaking mean, what were they to each other now.
He turns a chair around and straddles it with his styrofoam cup in hand, "I'm listening."
They meet eye to eye for the first time since falling asleep in each other's arms and she squirms under his icy blue stare.
Biting the edge of her mouth, she frets and he knows she wants to rub her palms together but that would require for her to let go of the towel she is clinging to for dear life.
And he buckles under the confusion radiating from her, especially because he is so clear in what he wants. He abruptly stands and offers her a weak smile, "Look let's not ruin what happened between us last night by overanalyzing and picking apart something that some might consider beautiful and what I definitely consider lots of fucking fun. From what I can remember, Elena chose Stefan, so I'm a free agent, and you and baby Gilbert are on the outs, so as far I'm concerned we were just two single, consenting adults who decided to ravage each other over and over last night."
"Is that how you feel?" She questions him with fear in her voice, throwing him for a loop because that isn't how he feels but he had been preparing for the worst all morning.
"No," he says honestly staring into her mossy green eyes, "I thought I'd save you the trouble of saying it was a mistake."
And she offers him a coy smile and says, "I gave what happened between us some serious thought and firstly, I think it's best if we keep what happened between us, between us. Do you understand?"
He nods and she continues, "Secondly, if you are wondering if I regret it, I have be truthful and say I don't."
And he narrows his eyes at her, surprised and wanting to pull the towel free from her hands.
But she finishes, "But I don't know what that means or even if I will still feel that way when the bond wears off. So I think it's best if we work at rebuilding our relationship as friends before we define and explore this bond as something romantic. Does that make sense?"
It made perfect sense to Damon. And he regrets that he didn't drain the gas station clerk.
"Understandable."
She is taken aback by his one word answer. "So we agree to pretend it never happened?"
There is a moment, a pause, where she notices how his eyes have darkened to a shade of blue that only exists at the bottom of the ocean, and there is a pulsating heat between her legs as he closes the space between them.
"Is there anything else you wanted to discuss or tell me," He asks, wondering if there was a chance she had heard what he said as she drifted to sleep last night.
She shakes her head, grabbing her clothes laid out on the bed; "I don't remember much of anything after we played cards." She lies, avoiding his stare.
And Damon's lips crawl up into a familiar smug smirk and he says, "Then I guess there isn't anything left to discuss," and he flips the room key in his hand and tells her he is going downstairs to check them out and to hustle with the dressing because they needed to be on the road in fifteen.
The professor was expecting them.
Author's Note
I've received several requests recently to update this story. I haven't touched this story in a year or so. Please bear with me while I try to get back into writing this piece and let me know how I'm doing. Thank you for caring