Hey guys! Im still alive!

45th Bite

"I didn't know you could draw." Damon said as he leaned over Bonnie's shoulder. He just drank from her neck and was in higher spirits because of it. How many times has he bitten her by now?

It was a warm and sunny afternoon in the woods. Bonnie had decided to switch up their routines since it felt like they only left the house for food. Meditation is always nice but she craved being outside just for the fun of it all. It didn't take much effort to convince Damon to come along.

"Actually," Bonnie raised her drawing high and eyed it. It was only a slightly crude drawing on the woods around them. "I didn't know either. Jeremy drew all the time, maybe some of that rubbed off on me."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Yeah right, because Jeremy was such a great artist. Cat scratches on a piece of paper don't count as art, honey."

Bonnie laughed despite herself. "It wasn't cat scratches!" she defended. "It was good art!"

"No, no, no," he shook his head.

"He was an artist. He was good!"

"Nope!" Damon made the 'P' sound pop on his lips.

Bonnie shook her head. "Well he's not around to not care about your shitty opinion anyway."

Damon faked a gasp. "Bonnie, my pocket sized friend, how could you say that?"

"Because you're—wait—pocket sized!?"

It was Damon's turn to laugh. "If it weren't for those shoes you wear, I'd lose you."

Bonnie glared at her friend. "Are you calling me short?"

"Easy, Napoleon, being short is nothing to be ashamed of."

Bonnie gripped her pencil. "You know this is made of wood right?" She twirled the pencil in her fingers.

"You wouldn't dare."

Bonnie smirked and flicked the pencil into Damon's face. "Ouch!" he said. Quickly, she grabbed her bag and started to run away.

"There's no use running Bon-Bon! What if you ruined my face?"

Bonnie chuckled but continued to run. Damon took a deep breath and flashed forward to her, tackling her to the ground. They rolled around for a moment before Damon got her pinned her underneath him. Her hair was a mess but Bonnie's entire body vibrated with her laugh.

"Got you," he grinned.

"You're so lucky I don't have my powers right now or I would have flipped you on your ass by now." Her expression matched his perfectly. It was another thing about her that thrilled him.

"You've been a hothead lately, Bennet. Maybe you need meditation after all, calm that raging beast inside you."

"Shut. Up." She made the 'P' sound pop has she unsuccessfully tried to pinch him enough to gain her freedom.

"Oh Bonnie, you don't want to mess with me," he threatened but secretly wanted her to push him, push his buttons, get on his very last nerve, because it was the only calm he knew. Bonnie Bennet is nothing less than a hurricane and Damon was over trying to escape it. He'd rather drown. It wasn't just that they were stuck together in this prison word, or that they only had each other, Bonnie is the fiery comet in a black sky, gravity, the sun and the moon.

But this was death.

Damon pulled Bonnie from the ground and threw her over her shoulder.

"Damon," she squeaked. "Let me go!"

Despite her protest, Damon carried her all the way home in that position. The pencils and paper were forgotten in the woods.

Damon couldn't figure out Bonnie's obsession with "The Bodyguard." If you watch something enough times, you start to pick at little things that shouldn't even matter.

The 90s had just as bad a fashion sense as the 80s. Kevin Costner is definitely replaceable. Why didn't they stay together at the end? He couldn't love like that. It was all or nothing. They too easily accepted that their lives had two different paths for him. How did you really know unless you tried?

He looked over to Bonnie, her green eyes set on the TV screen. How was this movie still so interesting to her?

"And you're ready to die for me?" Bonnie mumbled at the screen. "It's the job. And you'd do it? Why? I can't song."

"Really?" Damon snapped. "You're going to go ahead and remember every line from this movie?"

"It's not that I'm trying to remember—I just do! Besides, what do you care?" Bonnie grabbed the couch pillow near her and hugged it.

"Why do you think Frank and Rachel don't stay together at the end?"

Bonnie sat back, unintendedly landing under Damon's arm that stretched across the back of the couch, but not bothering to move away either. She was too focused on the question Damon had asked to notice that this position was actually some form of cuddling.

"I think they always knew that it wouldn't be forever. Once the feelings were there, it must have been hard fighting it. But their lives were always on different tracks. Just because those tracks crossed paths doesn't mean it would be forever, they had to get back to their own lives eventually."

Damon hummed but said nothing.

"I like the way they came to love each other. It's enough, even without them walking into the sunset together."

Again, Damon didn't respond. They watched the rest of the movie in silence.

Damon had a life to get back to but this universe sure as hell felt final. Without her magic, Bonnie's train ends here, in this world. He wasn't even sure if she was actually getting older or not.

This was it, Damon knew it.

Bonnie sighed once the move was over. She got up from the couch and Damon grabbed her hand.

"What if this is forever?" Damon asked. They argued about this often, she had hope and he didn't. But the fact is that they've been there for months with no sign of getting out.

Bonnie tensed. "It isn't."

"But what if it was?" Damon stood. "What if this is the next 50 years? What if this is the hell I keep telling you it is?"

Bonnie ripped her hand from Damon's. "Can we end one night without you pissing me off?"

"Bonnie," Damon's voice, wretched with grief, stilled the witch. "One day, it's going to kill you that you never made it back. One day you're going to be so sick of this place, of me, of these routines."

Bonnie's eyes stung. "So what do you want me to do about that?"

"Let's make a pact. When we've had enough of it all, we'll drink the oldest bourbon in the house and we'll have a proper—real—death."

Bonnie inhaled sharply. "You're out of your mind."

"It'll be our plan b," Damon offered.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

Bonnie put her hand on Damon's shoulders. "But we're not going to need a plan b. If agreeing to this helps you sleep at night then fine. I'm a hell of a lot stronger than that though."

Damon nodded. "Fine."

"Fine," Bonnie shrugged. "Goodnight, Salvatore." Her expression softened. "Meet me for breakfast tomorrow?"

Damon half smiled. "It's a date."

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