Bonnie herself felt like crying. As she heard the door click into place as
Elena stepped out into the hall, she wanted to get up and run to her
friend. But again she stayed. Even as she heard her crying, as she walked
down the dimly lit hall. She knew she needed time alone. As for Stefan….
She heard the downstairs door shut. Bonnie heard no movement from the room next-door. She sent her mind out, reaching for his. She wanted to know what he was thinking.
When she made contact and picked up his thoughts she knew he was trying not to show his pain, but with Elena gone and still not giving any sign that he knew she had heard the whole thing, his resolve was braking. The full impact was settling in. He'd lost her. Again. Twice to death and again to his brother.
How much more could one being take? The death of his mother, the guilt of Katherine, the hate for his brother, the self-condemned feelings for himself, the sole feeling of utter and complete abandonment. Alone. He was alone. He'd lost everything, and everyone.
Right now he needed someone. And the only one there was herself.
Finally Bonnie got up. She moved to the door, opened it slowly and stepped into the hall. She didn't knock, just opened the door. He was standing by the window, very still, very silent.
The feelings she picked up were a blur of pain, hurt, sadness, and anger. All jumbled and undecided. He was rigid, tense. He felt like dying, and she knew it.
Bonnie stood in the doorway, watching him. His eyes were closed, as far as she could tell from the reflection in the glass. There were things strewn about the room from when he had his fit. His hands were shaking, and when Bonnie looked at her own gripping the molding of the doorframe, they shook as well.
Drawing herself up to her full, rather short, height, she thrust her chin out and stepped into the room.
She heard the downstairs door shut. Bonnie heard no movement from the room next-door. She sent her mind out, reaching for his. She wanted to know what he was thinking.
When she made contact and picked up his thoughts she knew he was trying not to show his pain, but with Elena gone and still not giving any sign that he knew she had heard the whole thing, his resolve was braking. The full impact was settling in. He'd lost her. Again. Twice to death and again to his brother.
How much more could one being take? The death of his mother, the guilt of Katherine, the hate for his brother, the self-condemned feelings for himself, the sole feeling of utter and complete abandonment. Alone. He was alone. He'd lost everything, and everyone.
Right now he needed someone. And the only one there was herself.
Finally Bonnie got up. She moved to the door, opened it slowly and stepped into the hall. She didn't knock, just opened the door. He was standing by the window, very still, very silent.
The feelings she picked up were a blur of pain, hurt, sadness, and anger. All jumbled and undecided. He was rigid, tense. He felt like dying, and she knew it.
Bonnie stood in the doorway, watching him. His eyes were closed, as far as she could tell from the reflection in the glass. There were things strewn about the room from when he had his fit. His hands were shaking, and when Bonnie looked at her own gripping the molding of the doorframe, they shook as well.
Drawing herself up to her full, rather short, height, she thrust her chin out and stepped into the room.