A/N: In a bit of creative slump and just wanted to write something fun so hi… this is the final instalment to 'Little Witch.'
Bonnie wakes to the vampire staring at her. A blink, then he's frowning out the window, embarrassed, obviously, at getting caught. Damon Salvatore embarrassed. She folds away her smile.
"You're awake," he says from the window, "Finally."
"What's the time?"
"Seven am."
"Damon."
He shrugs, hair all ruffed up from lying on the pillows. "Breakfast finishes at eight. I checked."
"Wow. Didn't realise you were such a pancake fanatic."
His mouth twitches at her comment, like some secret she doesn't have access to. "You sleep okay?" he asks, and again, she's startled at his ease, the… kindness? It isn't an adjective she ever expected to attribute to the vampire but his gaze, and it is a gaze, possesses a dewiness in the waking sun. It's unnerving how… pretty he looks in the morning. "Yes, no? Not hard."
"Er, yeah. Surprisingly."
Damon picks at a wonky strand of hair, curls it with his thumb. "Good."
And Bonnie's suddenly very aware that she's lying in a bed – and that he's leaning against the window just watching her. She tugs at words, tries to string a comment, but her unlikely roommate has coherent thought held captive. Get it together, idiot.
"I can hear your heart. You scared?" She touches her chest and of course, the betrayer. Damon pushes from the window ledge and for a moment, it's as though he's going to walk over to the bed, to her, but he turns to the understated vanity in the corner, continues arranging his hair. "By the way Elijah's not going to be a problem anymore. For now, at least."
And now her pulse freezes. "What!?"
"He called me last night. Was all 'My brother, I must be duteous and save my family'," he says nonchalantly, butchering the Original's English drawl.
Bonnie sits up, enlivened. "And you were going to tell me this when!?"
"Over pancakes." He throws a glance over his shoulder, chuckles at Bonnie's disbelief, "You were asleep. I didn't want to wake you."
"He's just leaving? No consequences."
In the mirror, Damon gives her a pointed look. "They're the Original's. First vampires ever aka the most dramatic," he lifts a brow, "I know what you're thinking and yes, more dramatic than me. They'll come back guns blazing-"
"Fangs thrashing."
"Huh?"
Why did I just say that? "I just… trying to make a joke," she trails off.
Damon looks genuinely perplexed. "I didn't know you did that? Made jokes."
The smile bounces back, flirting with her mouth. "I guess it's just the relief of imminent death being … less imminent."
"Noted," He folds his arms, leaning back against the dresser, surveying her, "It suits you."
/
The time is 9:05am, they're half an hour into their road-trip, heavy with pancakes and – Damon glances to the witch in his periphery – they're happy. Well, as happy as one can be with a brother trapped in a tomb, a family of vampires coming for blood and the best friend of the girl you're in love with as passenger who, just earlier this week, was a particularly prickly thorn in your side. Bonnie begins to hum along to the song he's got coming from the radio, pitchy, (he plays with something witty to say) and against all odds, pretty damn happy.
"So… frenemy," he says, enjoying the sound of it in his mouth. Something about her name – Bonnie – is so unsatisfactory on its own. He likes nicknames; he likes her nicknames.
"Hmm I think the enemy side is pretty lacking. You rescuing me etc."
"Oh, I'm sure that can be arranged," he says casually, beaming internally at her acknowledgement. He's not a saviour, far from it, but doing the Right Thing™… he's starting to understand why his brother abandoned head ripping. Kinda. "I guess Elijah channelled all my anger."
"True. Or you've just got tired of being an ignorant asshole."
"Ouch."
She smooths her grin into indifference. Not fast enough. Damon drums on the steering wheel, ignoring what her comment did to his… everywhere? He's always taken a quiet pride, or pleasure, or both, in being called an asshole by Bonnie Bennett.
"I see what you like about her, by the way. She's… vibrant."
Fuck off Elijah. "Okay: Man-witch or Little Gilbert. Which one?" He asks over the Original's insinuating comments.
"You're obsessed," she groans.
"And you're blushing."
"Focus on the road, Damon."
"Come on, we've bonded now. You've discovered I'm actually quite charming and I'll even go as far as to call you tolerable." He smirks, unable to suppress the glee at her discomfort.
"Believe it or not, I wasn't weighing up their strengths and weaknesses whilst fearing for my life."
"Bullshit. Girls always think about a guy before they go to sleep. Who was it?"
Bonnie looks oddly uncomfortable. "No-one. And they don't."
"You're lying, little witch."
"Were you?" she throws back, irritated.
"Thinking about Jeremy. Guilty. Couldn't help myself."
"You know who I mean."
Elena.
"Yeah, I guess," he lies, because saying actually I was thinking about you could easily be mis-interpreted.
The car fills with the radio, like there is nothing else that needs saying.
/
Elena is standing on the porch, arms wrapped around herself in the chill. Jeremy stands beside her, grinning at the Camaro, at Bonnie.
"Home sweet home," Damon says softly and she doesn't check to see who he's looking at as he says it. Elena's there, that's all that matters now.
Bonnie pushes on the passenger door and raises her hand in an awkward wave, unused to a homecoming party. Jeremy moves first, reaching to pull her frame into his, his hands, splayed over her back, say you're not disappearing again. It's nice, he's nice, so why is she looking at them, Damon and Elena, watching as she stands a breath away from him, watching as she reaches to touch his cheek, watching him completely, captivated, watching her. She has his whole heart in that touch.
"You're okay, right?"
Jeremy re-centres her focus. She smiles up at him (because she will feign content until she is). "I'm okay."
"Good," his hand is in her hair, "I'm… that's good."
"Okaaaay, let's break out the scotch," announces Damon loudly. "None for you Little Gilbert, it's a school night," he remarks, pushing past them, Elena in tow.
"It's midday, Damon," Bonnie goes to say but Elena beats to her to it. Earns the smirk, the wink.
Jeremy puts space between them, cheeks tinged red. "After you," he says.
…
Damon pours Bourbon into several glass tumblers, an extra for himself, and pushes them across the table. Bonnie catches hers in cupped hands; something flickers in the vampire's stare, a victory, and she lifts it to her lips, inhaling the bitter tang.
"To Bonnie." He raises his glass, "Our little witch."
"To Bonnie," the Gilbert's chorus and she allows herself, for a moment, to feel loved, to feel seen.
Then Damon places the Moonstone on the table and the moment collapses. "Spell-breaking take two." She stares at it; Damon drums on the table. "Bonnie."
"Damon, patience. Do you think you can do the spell?" That's Elena. Soon it will be Jeremy, soon it will be the whole damned world.
"Now," she says, defeated. It doesn't need to be posed as a question.
"Do you need your books?"
Bonnie looks at the vampire, hoping foolishly to find something other than function in his eyes. Just this morning was… dewiness, fresh, wondering.
"No, I think I've got it." She stands, picks up the stone, and exits into the corridor, throat tightening. It's pathetic, it is, wanting to cry when really, why should she ever have expected anything less? This is who she is. Who her Grams was.
"Bonnie?" It's Jeremy, kind Jeremy: with his palms in his pockets he looks about as unsure as she feels.
She turns away from him, re-adjusts the mask. "Can I use the living room? I need space to-"
"You know you don't have to do this right now."
And she laughs, a little broken. "It's Stefan. Of course, I do."
"I know but…" His words dissolve, "Yeah, it's… You can use whatever room you'd like." He hovers in the doorway, Elena and Damon's chatter – "Did you annoy her?" "Oh, only about as much as she annoyed me" "You're too hard on her, Damon" "Don't I get hero points though?" – smothering. He looks like he wants to say sorry but Bonnie's never been one for pity so she smiles, sucks it up, and promises she'll save the gentlemanly Salvatore.
"The living room will be fine. Thanks."
She yanks on the curtains to make an artificial night, scrambles in the drawers for matches, and, placing the Moonstone on the coffee table, sits cross legged on the carpet. Bonnie breathes and the candles light themselves. Magic is fuelled by emotion and she's vibrating with it. Eyes closed, she begins the incantation, chanting softly. When she holds the stone in her palm, it's so cold it whispers to her.
"How much longer?" Damon speaks from the doorway; her eyes fly open.
"Are you fucking serious?"
His eyes enlarge. "What?"
She wants to control the emotion in her voice, bury it like always, but she's hurt and thrumming with magic and Damon, Damon- "So we're back to this? You treating me like I'm not a human being."
"Are you- are you crying?"
Bonnie stands, the stone enclosed in her fist. "I actually thought – stupidly – that I was becoming more to you than just an accessory."
Damon goes to speak but Elena's voice freezes the thought.
"Go," she says coldly, "Elena's calling." She chucks him the stone, his reflexes receiving it effortlessly, if not a little taken aback, "It should work. If not, you have my number."
/
It's only when the front door slams shut that his brain kicks his ass into gear and says go after her, idiot. Pocketing the stone, he yanks, rather dramatically, on the door, ignoring Elena's confused demands regarding the commotion because fuck, he's confused too. All he knows is that Bonnie's upset and he cares about stuff like that now.
"Wait, Bonnie! You don't have to go."
She pivots, eyes dark. "I did my job. Working hours are over."
"Look," he begins, descending the porch steps, "I'm sorry you feel you've been treated like-"
"How can you know what I feel?" Her voice layers, "No one's ever bothered to ask," then halves, "I lost my Grams because of you." He's hanging off the bottom step, halted. "And you know what's the really shitty thing?" She almost smiles. "I'm no-one's first choice. You're all always going to choose Elena, Jeremy included."
"That's not true."
"Of course, it is. I'm not even my own first choice."
Damon moves at this, her pain, it draws out his honesty. "I chose you."
"Please," she lifts a hand, as if to stop his motion, "don't pretend like saving Stefan wasn't the first thing on your mind. I get it – he's your brother –"
"Actually, the first thing on my mind was that I really, really didn't want you to die." He steps forward, undeterred. "Not for the spell, not even for Elena, but for me. Selfish Damon." She's gone quiet; her stare burns. Damon continues, he has to, "And I did choose you. I had the moonstone. I do have other witches in my life, you know," he swallows, "Just none as… important as you. You're… vibrant."
Bonnie's eyes narrow, disbelieving. He cringes. "I'm… vibrant?"
"Yeah, you're - fuck you, Elijah - vibrant and it's addicting and scary and I don't know what to feel around you anymore." How the hell did it get to this Damon? Bonnie of all people.
Because she is all people. He feels uncharacteristically nauseous.
"What are you saying, Damon?"
Nothing. Everything. Why do I keep moving closer?
Her eyes are fixed on his, a determination, he's always liked that: he should speak again. "You deserve more than how we've treated you. And-" He thinks of Elena in the house just behind him, the thrilling pain of loving her; he looks at Bonnie and feels a warmth vampires aren't supposed to feel anymore, something quietly human, still fluttering. Terrifying.
Bonnie softens, the fire about her lessens. "I think I know what you mean. It's…"
"Damon!" He'd been so focussed on the witch he hadn't registered Elena's presence on the porch. She rushes forward. "Is everything okay? Bonnie… what's wrong?"
"Nothing." It's scary how easily she fakes a smile, "I've finished the spell. Damon has the stone."
"You're amazing," Elena tells her and he sees it, he does, the way the light in her eyes goes out at the empty affirmation. "We'll go and get him now won't we Damon? Damon?"
"Yeah," he speaks to Bonnie, "You coming?"
She shakes her head. "I'm pretty exhausted after the spell. You go. Tell Stefan I said hi."
And again, as she walks away, his brain, damn, even his heart, say go after her, idiot, but Elena's hand has found its way into his and that's all he's ever wanted, right?
/
Stefan calls her at three in the morning. She answers immediately, thrusting the phone to her ear in a whisper.
"Stefan! Is everything okay?"
"Bonnie, wow, I didn't think you'd be awake but I just had to try."
She pulls at the zip of her hoodie, "Yeah I… haven't really been able to sleep."
"I heard about what happened with Elijah. That must have been scary."
Bonnie nods, then remembering she's on the phone says, "A little but you know, just another day in Mystic Falls."
He chuckles, "That I do. I, er, I just wanted to say thank you. For the spell… We do appreciate everything you do for us."
Ah. Bonnie fights the eyeroll. "Did Damon put you up to this?"
"What? No. I wanted to say thank you."
"But the other bit…" she draws a pattern on the covers with her forefinger, "We do appreciate everything you do for us." Stefan stalls. Busted. "Tell Damon, it's cute, but he can do better than getting his younger- AH!"
She drops the phone, the vampire's tinny, "Bonnie! Are you okay!?" reverberating from her pillow. Damon Salvatore, the dick, twinkles his fingers out her window. Bonnie presses against her heart to calm it down and brings the phone back to her ear: "Hi, sorry, I just saw a… cat."
"A cat?"
"Yeah. It's three a.m. – I'm delirious," she glares at Damon through the window, "Sorry. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for calling."
Hanging up, she marches to the glass and pushes hard on the window, nearly sending him flying off the tree he's perched on – good. "What are you doing here?" She hisses.
"Good evening, Bonnie. What did my brother want?"
She folds her arms, feeling suddenly stupid in her old pink zip-up and Monsters Inc. pyjama pants. "To say thank you. It's rude to eavesdrop."
Damon flings her a lazy grin. "Can't help it," he flicks his ear, "vamp-hearing."
There's a beat; Damon re-adjusts his balance on the branch. "Do you want to come in?"
"Really?"
"Don't make me change my mind."
In a blink he's standing in front of her, surveying her childhood bedroom with amusement. His stare lingers on her bed. "So, this is where the Bonnie Bennett magic happens," his mouth curves, "Don't give me that look – I meant real magic. Your magic."
Your magic. The warmth returns.
"You came to my house at three in the morning just to see my bedroom?"
Damon brings his eyes back to hers. "No," he says simply, "I came to your house at three in the morning to see you." He smirks. "We spend one night together and now I can't get enough."
Bonnie ignores that. "I'm glad the spell worked... and Katherine?"
"We can deal with her." A pause stretches and Bonnie looks around the room, catches herself in the mirror, cringes. Damon clears his throat. "I thought about what you said. In the car. About Elena. You asked me why I'm waiting for," his tongue wets his lip (because she's back to him again), "And I'll admit I may have got a bit defensive."
Her pulse is loud. "Shall we sit down?"
Damon glances at the bed, "No… I need to say this standing." He weaves a hand through his hair, ruffling it up like it was in the motel room. "I've been a dick to you."
Her pulse is loud, louder than her voice even. "Not… all the time."
"You're right," his eyes glint mischief, "Sometimes I was victim." He reaches for her arm, playfully, yes, but there's that shock again. The one she'd felt in the motel.
"This is strange," she says honestly.
"A guy in your bedroom? I'm sure."
Familiar territory, banter: she relaxes. Almost. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"
"Never. I did say you were addicting." Bonnie swallows, a little electrified. Damon steps forward, his height distracting, thrilling, Bonnie stop. She leans back but he catches her arm, keeps her upright. "I'm usually very impulsive but I can't do that with you," his voice is breathy, a murmur, for her, himself, them, "As much as I want to."
And her own breath reaches for him. "Do what?"
Damon pushes his mouth into a smile, she feels the effort, the tension, taut, as he pulls away. "Goodnight, Bon-bon. Can I call you that?" The smile slips into a smirk, teasing, dangerous. "I'm going to call you that."
The vampire winks and jumps into the night, just like that, ever the dramatic. She falls back onto her bed, heart leaping, a smile too, ridiculously, unfolding across her whole face.
Bon-bon.
A/N: I'm going to leave this story here because I have a few other one-shot ideas I'd like to get started on. If people want, I might re-upload as a separate story (flesh it out a bit etc) and continue for a few more chapters but that probably won't be for a while – university and all lol.
Please leave a review. I've been feeling a little bit disheartened about writing lately and your comments are really so appreciated. Also, if you would like to support my writing, you're always welcome to buy me a coffee! There is a link in my tumblr (perpetualimaginings) or just type wavesketcher in on ko-fi.
Most importantly though, thank you for reading. I'm so grateful for a place to share what I love to do.
