Ok, personally, this is one of my favorite chapters. Hopefully it'll be a favorite of yours too!
It had been four days since the incident and Meredith had watched Damon attempt to talk to Bonnie at least twice a day. The night of, Damon had broken down and tried to get in to see her only to be held back by his brother, with the help of Matt. Oh, Matt. She had had to give him that talk. It hadn't gone well, but he had been too weak and, truthfully, a little too frightened to confront Damon again. It had taken him a bit to accept that Bonnie and Damon were a thing, but eventually, he had seemed to accept it only due to the fact that he might have a chance now that Damon had royally fucked up. Of course, she hadn't been able to shoot Matt down because honestly…he wasn't wrong. He might have a shot.
The days had, nonetheless, been agonizing in themselves as she watched Damon try and try to get Bonnie to talk to him only to have her pretend he wasn't there, or slam a door in his face. He had begun yelling at her through the door only last night. He had beat on the wooden barrier as Bonnie screamed at him to "go away," dragging the entire house into their drama. It was pathetically sad watching Damon's attempts, each time she saw him become more broken. She wondered how much he could take. He had barely left the house and seemed more sluggish each time she saw him. Bonnie, on the other hand, had barely left her room. Meredith had often been summoned to bring her meals, snacks, and drinks. It was silly to her, but she understood at the same time. How awful would it be to never be able to escape the ex who hurt you?
Though, Meredith was glad when Bonnie summoned her for food. The petite girl had barely been eating, so she was always eager to provide whatever food Bonnie asked for just to make sure the girl got nutrients. Although they talked, it was short and monotone. Bonnie wasn't laughing or bubbly or spouting the ridiculous but amusing thoughts that ran through her mind without filter. She was just there, with some sort of puffy feature on her face where she had been crying, and a solemn appearance tampering her usual fiery glow. She and Matt were about the only two people in the house Bonnie spoke a word to. Though Elena had attempted to apologize on two separate occasions, Bonnie just hadn't been in the mood to handle it and had shut the lapis-eyed girl out.
On the other hand, though, Elena was working on mending things with Stefan, and all had been going well. There were no more flirtations, no more slip-ups, and no more distractions. Mostly this was because Damon had not been his normal cocky, arrogant, and flirty self. He had barely spoken to a single one of them aside from Bonnie. Otherwise he was writing, locked up in his room, or impersonating a statue in the corner of a room somewhere in the vast house they shared.
Meredith sighed as she looked across the room at Damon, sunk down in his chair and staring out into the void of nothing. His skin was paler than usual, his eyes sunken in a little, and the natural charm in his eyes dulled out. He looked sick, and Meredith had never wanted him to throw a quick-witted insult at her more than in this moment. She wracked her brain, willing any sort of plan or solution to come to her mind.
Damon shot up from his chair suddenly and rushed off to the study. He usually went in there to write. Meredith had kept it a secret when she tip-toed in one night to take a peak at his writings. They were the shattered laments of his soul and excruciating to read. He hadn't jotted down his feelings in some overdramatic, mushy detail. He had written simple sentences in the most elegant handwriting, rehearsing what he might say to Bonnie given the chance. Lines would be striked-through and certain words scratched out only to be corrected just above the scribble. Deep imprints of the pen were visible where he had dug it into the page, and some of the ink was even smudged where past tears had landed. The symbol that had caught her eye, she recalled, had not been a word or a number or even a picture, it was a carefully crafted twist. Having had taken a closer look, Meredith clued into its familiarity. It wasn't just a spiral at the bottom of the page, nor was it a mistake or a mindless drawing—it was Bonnie's hair. A single ringlet made up of a hundred strawberry strands. He had recreated the curl so precisely that it looked as if it could be touched. Meredith wondered what truths could be spilling from his thoughts onto paper tonight.
A loud crash startled her and she flung her laptop shut and shoved it off her lap before speeding toward the study Damon had just entered. Another crash sounded as she got closer. Meredith's concern grew as a conglomerate of noises coiled and reverberated from the room, loudly beating against her eardrums. She quickened her pace and flung the door open as soon as her fingers grazed the cold, metal knob.
Damon growled as he tore down the bookshelves, tossing journals and old scripts in every direction around him, chucking heavy book ends into the walls, tearing thick book bindings apart like the were no more than a flimsy piece of cardboard. Meredith looked around the room and saw the antique floor lamp flickering against the hardwood, the stained-glass shade completely shattered. Ink was splattered against the wall just next to her head where he had thrown the glass container, now broken in shards beneath the dripping black liquid. He was on a rampage as he moved to another bookshelf. A loud crack blasted through her entire body as a wooden shelf gave way beneath his supernatural strength. She flinched.
"Damon!" she screamed, cautiously moving further into the room.
Damon ignored her, hurling heavy decorative globes, and various trinkets at dangerously high speeds. Some of the objects stuck into the walls like a dart while others left massive dents not easily repaired. Meredith kept her guard up as she approached him slowly, ready to duck, dodge, or shield at any moment.
"Damon, stop!" she shouted, trying again to reach the distraught vampire.
Damon continued, moving to the desk where he began to tear his thoughts apart.
Meredith winced as he shredded the paper into miniscule pieces. The tiny veins beneath his eyes pulsed as his eyes descended into darkness. She took a step forward to approach him automatically but then halted.
He's a vampire, Meredith. The most vicious animal…a blood-draining monster in human disguise.
It definitely wasn't smart to approach him. But he wasn't just a vampire, he was a person, her friend. And he was hurt. She could call Stefan home, but no—he was on a date with Elena. She could call Matt for backup, but he was out with a study group, and besides his presence would probably only make things worse. It was just her.
Taking in a brave breath, Meredith steadied her nerves and did what she did best: flung herself into the midst of danger for the people she cared most about. Pushing away thoughts of his primal nature, Meredith handled him like she would any of her friends. She dove for Damon's hands and was shocked when, after a short struggle, the older Salvatore let her stop him from destroying one of his journals.
"Damon…." Meredith breathed through hard inhalations, watching him warily, as if he were a venomous snake that might attack at a moment's notice.
Damon's chest heaved, nostrils flared as he stared at the green-eyed girl through red-washed crystals of his own.
"Come on—let's—let's talk, ok?" Meredith suggested slowly, trying to gauge him at every move as she took the torn journal from his hand and set it back down on the desk.
He was frozen, his eyes still bloodshot as he stared through her, still stuck in his head. She studied him closer, his crimson eyes were brimmed with tears, and she couldn't help but notice how they looked more sunk in than usual. His skin was paler too…and he was colder than she remembered.
A pang of something hit her heart as she realized, he hadn't been drinking.
Moving her hand from his wrist, she took his large hand in hers and gave it a soft squeeze, "Please talk to me?"
Damon swallowed hard as he bowed his head, "There's nothing to say…"
His voice was gravelly, and strained, it held none of its usual sultriness. She pulled him towards one of the couches and he let her, following reluctantly. Never releasing his hand from hers, she dusted off the paper and shards of wood from one of the cushions before leading him to sit down. The slender brunette dusted off the coffee table in front of it and sat on its edge. She leaned forward, propping her elbows onto her knees to get a good look at him. He didn't bother trying to meet her gaze, but she saw how the red that stained the whites of his eyes dissipated and the small creeping veins recoiled.
"What happened this time?" Meredith asked gently, trying her hardest not to upset him. The room couldn't take another Damon outburst.
Damon threw his hands up violently, "What the fuck do you think?!"
Meredith jumped at the barking tone of his voice.
"She won't talk to me. She won't even look at me." Damon met Meredith's eyes, allowing her to see the torture his heart was enduring.
Before she could stop to overanalyze why she wanted to comfort him, Meredith had reached forward and taken his hand in hers again. She hid her shock when Damon tightened his hand around hers. He spread his free hand around his face, rubbing his eyes.
"I don't know what to do." His voice hung just above a whisper.
Meredith sighed, wracking her brain for some sort of plan, or a next step, anything. She sat there, hand in hand with the man she despised only a month prior, wanting nothing more than to mend his heart for him. Sure, he deserved to be broken for what he had done, but it had quickly become clear to her by the way he was so undone, by the way he hadn't just walked away, that it was a mistake. One he would never make again, she was sure of.
"Well, if I know anything about Bonnie, it's that she loves gifts. So, maybe you could try getting her a gift? Maybe that would coax her into listening…" Meredith offered with a small shrug.
A small flicker of hope lit up Damon's dark eyes but then his brows furrowed.
"Why are you helping me?"
Meredith opened her mouth to respond, but faltered. Honestly, she wasn't sure herself.
"I—I don't know. Maybe I want to see my best friend happy again."
Damon looked down to the floor, seeming satisfied with her answer. He stood from the couch and Meredith followed, figuring this was her cue to leave. She gave him a curt smile before heading for the door. Damon watched her leave.
On the way to the door, Meredith fought with herself before practically forcing the next words from her mouth.
With her hand on the doorknob, she looked over her shoulder at him, "Maybe I don't want to see you hurt either."
She huffed and urged herself to turn back. Shaking off any second guesses, she marched over to Damon and threw her arms around his waist in a tight hug. She felt him stiffen and she was certain he was about to push her off. Instead, he relaxed and loosely circled his arms around her thin frame.
A tear ran down Meredith's face as she rested her chin on his shoulder.
"I know you probably think I hate you, but—you're one of my best friends, and I—I care about you." She admitted.
Damon hugged her tighter for a moment before releasing her. Meredith stepped back and gave him a small smile. A very faint half-smile tugged at his lips and she snickered as she wiped the tear trail from her cheek.
She sniffed, "Now," she poked him, "go get some rest. You have shopping to do tomorrow."
Damon snorted and nodded, "Yes, ma'am."
Meredith's smile grew and she let out a small laugh before walking out the door. Taking a few steps from the study, she spun on her heel and poked her head back through the door.
"I'll call someone tomorrow to…" she stuck an arm in and waved it around, "clean."
Damon scratched the back of his head as he took in the damage he had done, "Yeah…"
"Night!" Meredith called and shut the door behind her for good.
Damon let out a long breath as he sat on the floor by the grand fireplace and rested his forearms across his knees. He brain rattled in his skull as he sorted through an agonizingly long list of items good enough to get his favorite red-head. It was no use going to sleep, he would only see her there, plaguing his dreams.
As soon as the light of a new day beamed through Damon's windows he was up, fully dressed in casual black apparel, and hopping into his equally as dark Ferrari. The determined Salvatore drove to the mall and began searching the stores. Clothes? No, too simple. Something scented? No, too impersonal. Jewelry? Nope, trying too hard. Damon was getting more annoyed by the minute as he kept coming up blank and having to ward off random women's advances. He was tired of being there and decided to leave when he passed a cute little gift shop with all kinds of weird gadgets and useless trinkets. He stopped to examine the store, giving it one final try. As soon as he stepped into the small shop he froze. There it was…the perfect gift.
Meredith groaned as she held up her vibrating phone.
Can you bring me a pop tart?
Meredith typed back firmly:
Damon's not here and Elena isn't in the kitchen. Come down and get it yourself.
Bonnie snuck down the stairs, searching every portion of the house for him. When all seemed clear she charged forward into the kitchen and grabbed a pop tart. Quickly unwrapping it, she popped it into the toaster and hurried pushed the handle down. She grabbed a nearby paper plate from the counter and held it as she bounced impatiently.
Meredith rolled her eyes, "Bonnie, you need to talk to him."
Staring intently at the red-head's back, she watched her skinny hand fly up to her face and wipe something away. Meredith sighed to herself as she picked at her waffle. The toaster sprung and she noticed how the small girl trembled as she slowly took the pop tart from the toaster to her plate.
"I'll bring you your dinner tonight, ok?" Meredith told her in sweet tones.
Bonnie's ringlets jiggled as she nodded before scurrying back up the stairs to her room.
The sound of the garage rumbled faintly in Meredith's ears and then Damon's boots clomped down the hallway towards her. She looked back expectantly at the entry archway, waiting for him to appear. Seconds later, he waltzed into the kitchen carrying a huge hot pink bag with a pretty white-stringed handle. He plopped the paper bag onto the island in front of her and urged her to peak inside.
"What do you think?" he asked, looking suddenly concerned over his decision.
Meredith delicately lifted the decorative paper covering the top of the bag and looked inside. A big smile spread across her lips. She sat back in her chair and looked to Damon.
"I think it's perfect."
Damon huffed and rested his elbows on the countertop for support. Meredith could tell he was tired.
"When should I give it to her?"
Meredith shrugged, wishing she could be of more help. She reached across the countertop and patted his hand.
"Whenever you think is best."
What are we thinking the gift is? I'd love to hear guesses! Also, when it's revealed, should I post a link to the picture of the "gift" I used for reference? Hmmm…
Anyways, I hope you all are staying safe, happy, and healthy. Much love to all my readers, you guys are awesome! Thanks for so many reviews!