1 / chai person
The morning after he apologizes, he's at her door with two tall coffees in a beverage tray and she's left wondering who is even responsible for letting visitors into the dorms at Whitmore and how long have they been trying to function in society after their lobotomies?
So briefly is she given proper time to react before the words begin tumbling out of his mouth—"Hey, sorry about last night, can I come in?"—as he brushes past her into her room without a millisecond of hesitation. He sets the coffees on Caroline's dresser and puts his hands on his hips, so chipper, so expectant.
Enraged beyond the physical capacity of her own body, she twists her wrist in the effort to make good on last night's threat—only to find her magic stunted in her skin.
"Yeah, sorry about that, I sort of siphoned you in your sleep earlier because of the whole I'll melt your face off if I ever see you again thing, just precautionary. I didn't wanna do it, but, self-defense, you get the gist. Speaking of, I had no idea it was possible to do it nicely? Siphon, I mean. I half expected you to wake up and lob my head off just like that, but you didn't even flinch. How have you been sleeping by the way? I mean since you got out. Because, boy, the world is noisy. I know you were in my prison world for a long time, but sheesh, try nineteen years of total silence and then coming back to this. Doesn't feel like the world was always so loud, was it? Or am I just—"
"Oh my god, shut your mouth."
He raises his hands in surrender but the cocky smile is still there.
"I brought you coffee."
He holds out one of the cups from the paper tray, an offering. "Dirty chai, right? I asked Damon what your favorite drink is but I wasn't sure I should trust him to help me gain your trust, I mean what a helpful pal he was last night, right? so I went with my gut and thought, Bonnie seems like a chai person."
With the back of her hand, she smacks the cup out of his grip and the drink explodes on the dorm room floor.
"Get out," she growls.
Visibly deflating, Kai ignores the mess and shakes the splashed liquid from his hand. Bonnie braces herself for his retaliation, then follows his eyes as they land on her bed. Her duffel bag is there, needing only to be zipped to secure the entirety of what she wants to keep.
"Going somewhere?" he asks, that familiar suspicion creeping back into his eyes. He wants her to trust him now, but he doesn't seem quite there yet himself.
Bonnie crosses her arms. He really isn't going anywhere until she humors him, but she isn't feeling humorous. She wonders if she can fake it until her magic returns, endure him, share the space of a single room with how her skin tightens and crawls with anticipation, violence always just underneath the surface of each moment. Kill him when he's caught off guard. Deeply, she inhales, and tells herself to stay calm.
"I've been back for two days," she begins, her legs, her voice, shaking. "One of my friends just turned her humanity off and doesn't even care that I exist. Everyone else is just worried about bringing her back. I'm expected to drop everything, drop myself, and help. And I want to."
Eyeing him every second, she kneels and picks up the paper coffee cup.
"But see, that's the problem," she says, rising and edging her way to the trash can on the other side of her enemy. "Because I'm not back. I'm back, but I'm not back. You know?"
Her eyes water but she swallows the tightness in her throat and keeps going because something about just saying it out loud feels necessary.
"It's just becoming clear that I'm not the same person they think I am. And I need some time."
It occurs to her that what she's saying about herself is what he's trying to say about himself. As she drops the cup into the trash, she watches the look in his eyes shift from suspicious to sympathetic to angry to confused. Maybe Damon isn't totally mistaken. The merge has really done a number on him. While she won't be bullied into giving him another chance, she doesn't fully recognize this version of him.
"So you're feeling...tired," he guesses.
"I'm feeling irrelevant. And overwhelmed. And tired. Sure."
She wipes chai from her fingers on her jeans and shrugs, and goes to zip up her duffel bag, all of it with hyperawareness of him, his position in the room, his every twitch and shift in energy.
"Where are you going?"
"That's not for you to know."
What he says is both the last thing she's expecting and the worst thing she could've anticipated.
"I'm coming with you."
She scoffs, "Yeah, right."
"Why not?"
"The fact that you have to ask is abysmal. You did this to me!"
The sudden rise in her voice is unintentional. She finds herself expecting the lights to flicker or burst in accordance with her anger, but nothing happens. Her magic isn't back yet. Maybe it's a good thing. She can't predict herself lately.
"Bonnie, please. I've changed."
"You killed your family. Even if you are different, I can never forgive that part of you."
"I'm not asking for that."
"Doesn't matter what you're asking for. You took my blood. You took time out of my life when you left me there. You can't have any part of me ever again. You coming with me is the last thing I need."
"What you need is to spend more time around other witches, not these...vampires. I can give you that. Let me show you—"
"Let me show you," she says, cutting him off, and because she can't inflict pain on him without her magic and doesn't want to recycle the tit-for-tat violence that was their way in 1994, she lifts the hem of her shirt and reveals the pink whirl of marred flesh beneath her ribs. The scar he gave her, before he left her alone.
"I'm sorry," he says, and again, it sounds like he means it. It looks like he means it. But she knows that trickery is one of his best weapons. He can't even seem to make full eye contact with the scar, just gives it a glance and turns his head down and to the side like a scolded dog.
"Look at it," she orders.
He hesitates. His eyes seem to squint meanly as they shift from her scowl to her scar, the meanness in them taking a step back. For a second, he looks like he might cry.
"If any part of you actually feels now, I hope it feels pain."
She rolls the blue fabric of her top back down.
"What can I do? What can I do to make you believe me?"
"Leave me alone and never come back."
"Anything but that. Please. This might sound crazy, but I have this feeling that I'm supposed to help you. Or maybe you're supposed to help me. One of the two."
"You're right, that does sound crazy."
A tingling in her skin lets her know that her magic is on its way. She hopes enough of it will return in time to teach him a lesson.
"I—I have access to coven archives."
This catches her.
"Mostly Gemini ones right now, but there's some Bennett history in there too. Spells. Recipes. Our families were allies. I know I don't know you that well, but I know you've been saving everyone's ass in Mystic Falls single-handedly, without family, without guidance. You're like the strongest witch I can think of, well, maybe besides me, but—"
"Test me."
A playful glint in his eye is the only indication that he considers this and doesn't hate it, but he goes on. "How much stronger could you be if you had knowledge? If you had community? Support?"
"You mean if I had you."
He shrugs, some hint of a conceited smirk returning to his lips.
"You're lying to me," she says. It isn't a question.
"I'm manipulating you. But I'm not lying."
"And what do you get? What's at stake when I leave here without you?"
He takes his own latte from the drink carrier and takes a sip, seeming to mull this one over, whether to tell her the truth, or anything at all. You, is the answer she knows is on the front of his mind, and perhaps even on the tip of his tongue, but it isn't what he says.
"I'm pretty powerful now, but...like, I never really learned how to do a lot of spells. Or how to process emotions. Like, I can't even identify them all. A few weeks ago, I bought this plant but I forgot that you're supposed to water plants, and I wasn't doing that. Yesterday I noticed it was all brown and droopy. And lifeless." He zones out. "I felt...something."
"You mean guilt?"
"No, different. Because I was like, why did I even buy this if I didn't know anything about plants, and it goes and dies on my watch when I was supposed to be taking care of it? I took responsibility for a small life and I failed."
"So, shame?"
"What's the difference?"
Bonnie slings her duffel bag over her shoulders, quite ready to leave. Her magic is tingling stronger in her fingertips.
Kai has closed his eyes and taken a second to sigh before he looks to her again. He seems very dismayed about the plant.
"I hated teachers when I was in school, but in retrospect I probably should've paid more attention, starting with the day they match words for feelings with pictures of kids like, having those feelings? And also the magic thing. Growing up siphon didn't really give me any practice actually doing magic, so I'm thinking...I need a teacher."
This truly does surprise Bonnie. She knows she shows it on her face as he gauges her level of investment.
"Plus my baby sister keeps trying to kill me, which I honestly deserve but if she succeeds she'll kill herself, too. And Jo, and Jo's baby, and every other poor lunatic who hasn't already cut ties with my coven since I took the reigns, so...yeah, I kinda have to get out of here. Before I do something bad. And I mean, really bad."