Day Two (Continued)
The sweet sound of a rhythmic melody drifted through the walls and caressed Bonnie's sleepy senses. She yawned, stretching out her sore limbs while willing her heavy eyelids to pry open. The intense light of day shocked her pupils, making her groan and cover her face with a pillow. Weren't the curtains shut before I went to sleep?
"Good morning, Sleepy Head," an amused Damon chimed. "Or, should I say, afternoon?"
Bonnie nearly screeched, throwing the pillow away from her face and aiming for her current agitation which was pleasantly leaned against her doorway. Damon swiftly caught the pillow with one hand.
"Damon," she seethed, "Get out of my bedroom before I do something I'll regret." He gave a sly smile, casually walking toward her bedside.
"First of all, this is my brothers' room," he began, sitting softly by her feet. "Secondly, what do you have in mind?"
Bonnie threw a punch to his shoulder with a scowl. He grimaced.
"That's what I have in mind." Flustered, she nearly pushed her covers back to get out of bed before she felt her thin, lacy underwear rub against her fingertips. She gasped, practically grabbing enough of the comforter to hide everything up to her chin. "How long have I been asleep?"
Damon crossed his arms, giving her question some thought. After a minute he shrugged.
"It's two o'clock, so at least eight hours." Bonnie nodded, satisfied with the number of hours she contributed to rest. The tasks the pair had ahead of them would be nothing less than difficult and rest would be crucial in getting anything accomplished. Damon stood up, lazily stretching his arms over his head. He was, unsurprisingly, still shirtless and wearing nothing but the black sweat pants from the previous night.
"I was kidding earlier, you know?" he stated, grabbing his discarded plaid shirt from her dresser and sauntering over to the open doorway, "When I said 'What do you have in mind?'"
Bonnie awkwardly gulped, unsure of his meaning.
"Even though I'm dead, I'm still in love with Elena," he continued, noting her confusion. "I would never put any moves on you, Judgey. Don't worry." With an unabashed wink, he slipped on his shirt and exited the room.
"Come downstairs and get some breakfast when you're ready!" he called, his voice fading away against the stream of music. Bonnie was lost in thought as she could vaguely feel herself sliding out of bed and into her jeans. She finally decided to shrug away his words with a confident lift of her chin.
"Well, guess what Damon Salvatore? I expect nothing less," she absentmindedly mumbled as she went into Stefan's bathroom to freshen up for the day.
…
Bonnie almost felt at home when she stepped into the warm, cozy kitchen that smelled of breakfast food and hummed with 90's music. She smirked as she observed Damon swaying through the kitchen, flipping pancakes with one hand and tipping back his bourbon with the other. The music was coming through an old stereo positioned behind him on the counter and she couldn't help but go over and check it out.
"Oh my God, where did you find these cassettes?" Bonnie marveled, flipping through the box of tapes next to the stereo. Damon flopped a few pancakes onto a plate and walked over to place them on the large kitchen table next to the fireplace.
"I didn't need to find them, they were already here. Stefan and I had a collection." He motioned her to sit at the table with a tilt of his head in which she complied.
"So you're a big Pearl Jam fan?" she smirked, poking at her plate of strangely looking pancakes before cautiously taking a bite. "And since when are you into cooking?"
"Most of those are my brothers," he confessed, "But the Salt N Pepa ones are all mine." A bubbly giggle slipped from Bonnie's lips which made her quickly cover her full mouth with the back of her hand. Picturing Damon Salvatore getting down to some Selt N Pepa was enough to make anyone laugh. He grinned in her direction, seeming somewhat pleased that he could get a rise out of her. He noticed her anxious behavior ever since their arrival and was glad she was relaxing a little. He placed his bourbon next to the sink for later. Taking a seat across from her, he continued. "I used to cook all the time, Bonnie, I assure you. My skills are just a bit rusty." After a moment, Bonnie suddenly cringed as she hurriedly brought a cup of coffee to her ailing taste buds which, unfortunately, only made it worse.
"Just a bit? These pancakes taste like a mouthful of flour," she mumbled, fiercely reaching for a glass of water. She drank it down in one long gulp while Damon concernedly watched her demonstrations. She then pushed her coffee mug towards him with a disgusted expression. "That coffee tastes like dirt. I don't know how you could even manage that, Damon." He pursed his lips, shifting his crystal blue eyes from her plate of pancakes to her coffee then back again. After a quick moment he shrugged, shaking out his newspaper.
"Well, I admit I was a tad distracted. Waking up in the 90's while simultaneously being dead was kinda getting to me this morning," he rambled, failing to make her feel better. "I didsay I was rusty. So technically, I warned you."
"You "warned" me while I was eating," Bonnie glared, "So, technically it doesn't count." Damon grinned at her remark as she scooped up her plate of defective pancakes and drink glasses. "Next time, I'll be doing the cooking."
Bonnie sent him one last annoyed look before she took the liberty of washing the dishes and cleaning the rest of the kitchen. After the chore was complete, she glanced over at Damon who was skimming through the paper. She crossed her arms, thoughts whirling through her head.
"Is that the same newspaper from last night?" she asked as she strode over to lean against the fireplace.
"Nope. I took a walk through town before you woke up and found this one." Bonnie glanced at the date over his shoulder and couldn't help but feel confusion.
"It says, May 10th. Wasn't that the date it showed yesterday?"
If she didn't know any better, she could swear she saw Damon begin to fidget. It was hardly even noticeable except for the fact that his eyes were darting across the page and his mouth began to twitch.
"Yeah, I guess it did," he replied, almost inaudibly. Bonnie uncrossed her arms, placing a hand on her hip.
"Mhm. So you're telling me you don't think that's strange, Damon?"
Before she could blink he swiftly closed the newspaper and slid it away.
"I don't know, Bonnie. Obviously the universe is playing one big joke on us, right? I mean, we're dead huh? Living in the 90's for God's sake," he exclaimed as he quickly stood and walked in another direction. "Let's just say this place is my hell and leave it at that."
Bonnie couldn't believe the defensive tone in his voice and had no idea what he was keeping from her. What does "my hell" supposed to mean? She shook her head, clearing her thoughts away. For now, she decided to leave the subject alone. After all, she couldn't really go anywhere to escape an angry Damon.
"Okay, Okay," she surrendered. "Though, I'm pretty sure this isn't exactly my idea of paradise either." Damon was facing away from her, posture stiff and rigid while he stared out the kitchen window. After hearing her words of defeat, his body slowly began to relax as he swiveled around to meet her gaze. His smile was soft but his eyes were troubled.
"Well, anyway, I will do my best to get better with the cooking," he promised. "However, you should just take over doing the coffee- I'm more of a blood, guy." Bonnie rolled her eyes as he dramatically widened his baby blues when he emphasized "blood". Gee, looks like normal Damon is back.
"Speaking of 'blood'," she mimicked, eyes popping out of her head, "Are you going to go find some this afternoon?"
Damon smirked at her actions, running his fingers through his hair.
"Since you're a meany and won't lend me yours, yes, Bonnie. I'm going on the hunt for a friendly woodland creature." Damon began to button up his plaid shirt until he stopped in the middle of his chest. He glanced up at her as he smoothed the fabric. "Will you be okay while I'm gone?"
Bonnie was taken aback by his concern for her wellbeing. She knew Damon cared about her but was also surprised when he chose to make it evident- especially when there was no one to hurt her in this new world. She nodded, slowly rubbing her bare arms in up and down motions.
"I'll be fine. I was going to start my day off with some yoga, anyway. Thought it might clear my head to do some magic." Damon laughed, raising a brow.
"Yoga? Since when do you do yoga?"
Bonnie grinned as she swept out of the kitchen and towards the living room. When they arrived, she stopped and turned around to face him.
"See, Damon? This whole journey of ours will end up teaching us a lot about each other," she chimed, patting him on the shoulder. A smile still remained on his lips as he shook his head. "Truthfully," she added, "I bought some instructional yoga DVD's off an infomercial last month. I don't know a lot of positions yet." Damon's eyes lit up with mischievous intent as he took a few steps back and began to stretch his limbs.
"Well, Bon Bon, it so happens you're in luck," he announced, "You'd be surprised how many positions I'm familiar with." It only took her a few strides to swing a punch directly into his arm. He frowned, intently nursing the sore spot. "Hey, quit it with the punching!"
Bonnie scowled. "No, I'm actually not surprised. You're disgusting. Can you ever not be sickening, Damon?" she scolded as she grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him towards the door. "We were having a nice, normal conversation until you always find a way to include something slimy and inappropriate. Why is that?" she continued, finally pushing him out of the doorway. The moment his lips parted to answer she quickly held up a finger and shook her head. "Never mind. I don't wanna know."
"But it's for your magic," he implored, trying to get a word in before the door could slam in his face. "Working on your magic is the most important thing we can do," he held up his palm as if he were swearing an oath, "I was talking about yoga positions, I promise." She narrowed her eyes at his unsuitable explanation.
"Whatever, Damon. My magic and I will work with the positions we know." She turned to walk away but before closing the door she added, "When you get back we're going shopping."
"Food?" he asked.
"Clothes," Bonnie replied. "I don't plan on wearing the same outfit for the rest of my afterlife." Once she saw Damon nodding in agreement, she shut the door and walked back towards the living room to do warm-up stretching.
"But we can stop by the grocery store before we head home, right?" he yelled on the opposite side of the door. "You're not going to take the rest of the day for a shopping extravaganza are you, Bon?"
When she didn't answer, he continued. "I was thinking maybe you could make spaghetti tonight- or I guess, we can make spaghetti tonight," he shouted, "Is that okay? Hello?"
Bonnie was on the floor stretching her fingertips to her toes with her eyes practically rolled in the back of her head with her lips pressed tight. She let out a heavy sigh.
"Yes, Damon! It's fine! Now get the hell out of here before I blow this house off the earth."
There was a moment of silence before Damon's lowered voice came whispering through the door as if he were talking to himself.
"Well, we're not really on the earth. And your magic isn't working so…"
"Damon!"
"Okay, I'm leaving," he hastily replied, zooming away with vampire velocity. Bonnie groaned as she flopped down on her back, her arms spread over her head. Screw yoga. How is she supposed to clear her head when there is a huge chance that she could be living, alone, with Damon Salvatore for the rest of eternity?
"Like I said- Notmy idea of paradise," she muttered. Instead of doing the responsible thing, like Bonnie Bennett was always supposed to do, she walked her pretty butt to the kitchen and snagged Damon's bourbon off the counter. She wasn't aiming to get drunk, but she was definitely looking for a release. Without a moment's hesitation, she threw back the bottle and let the alcohol burn a track down her throat. I'm sure Damon wouldn't mind, she thought. It's about time he learned how to share anyway.
…
Damon had snacked on a few innocent squirrels before he came home and accompanied Bonnie to a local clothing store. It wasn't as dumpy as the Thrift Shop but not as fancy as some in a mall. They were walking in circles around the store, checking rack after rack for the perfect clothing choices.
"At least it isn't winter here," Bonnie sighed. "That would make it seem even more hellish." She pulled a pair of overalls off a hanger and held it against her body. With a nod of satisfaction, she turned to Damon. "Is this okay? I mean, for a 90's outfit?"
"Uh- yeah. Sure, I guess," he uneasily replied. Damon had never really even shopped with Elena so he had no idea what to say. The whole situation was entirely unfamiliar. "There's uh, long-sleeve purple shirt over there that would look good with it." He pointed at the wall across from where they were standing.
Bonnie turned to look in that direction and went over to grab the shirt. She placed it inside the overalls and smiled at the outcome.
"You're right, Damon," she called, "It works. Thank you." He nodded, running his hand over another plaid shirt he found. Maybe having one in red wouldn't hurt.
"I'm about done here," Bonnie relayed. She was moving carefully towards him with a pile of clothes in her arms. "Please tell me you found some clothes too." He shrugged holding up a couple pairs of jeans, socks, shirts, and some shorts for bed.
"What is it with you and plaid?" she laughed, eyeing his stack of shirts.
"You said it yourself- it's the 90's."
They walked in content silence with their new clothes in hand. Damon glanced at her from the corner of his eye, noticing that she was far less wound up than when he left her to go hunting.
"So," he began, "The yoga went okay? Did it spark anything?"
Bonnie tensed, eyes averting his gaze. "No, nothing sparked yet." She adjusted the clothes in her grasp, finally willing herself to look at him.
"I'm sorry, Damon. I'll try again tomorrow. It's only the second day, you know." He nodded, briefly feeling the pang of disappointment in his stomach. He tapped her on the shoulder when he saw the grocery store come into view.
"I'm gonna go grab some stuff for dinner. Just wait here, I'll be right back."
Bonnie quickly grabbed his wrist. "I can push the cart if you want," she offered. "That's my favorite part of grocery shopping." Damon grinned, patting her delicate hand before removing it from his wrist.
"Well, it just so happens that's my favorite part as well." Bonnie sent him a look.
"Don't worry yourself, Little Witch. You can help another day. I'll be like five seconds, hold on." In a flash, Damon placed his clothes on top of hers and flew into the store. Bonnie barely had any time to complain before he was back with grocery bags in hand and his clothes removed from her pile and slung over his shoulder. He smirked as he urged her to continue walking back home.
Bonnie shook her head at his cheeky vampire behavior. Glancing at the sky, she noticed the afternoon was nearly drawing to a close. She gasped at what she saw next. The moon began to pass between the earth and the sun, causing a shadow to cover Mystic Falls in a solar eclipse. Again. Were they actually reliving the same day?
"Damon!"
"What? Are you still mad I didn't let you push the cart?"
Bonnie harshly exhaled. "No. Why aren't you paying attention?Look at the sky!"
A questioning look spread across his face as he turned his head upward but was soon erased as he viewed the unbelievable sight. His eyes grew wide, mouth dropping open.
"What the hell?" she could hear him murmur. The pair stood stock still in their tracks until the eclipse had passed, the shadow it created evaporating with it. Damon finally peeled his eyes away and looked over into Bonnie's fearfully unsure ones.
"To answer your previous question- Yes, Bonnie. I think it's very strange."
…
The rest of the day wound down as normally as it could. They played a few board games until the evening rolled around and then made their way to the kitchen to prepare dinner. They came to an agreement that Damon would make the spaghetti sauce while Bonnie cooked the pasta and set the table. The pair were still a bit shaken up over the fact that they were destined to relive the same day over and over again until they could find a way to escape. If escape was even possible. Bonnie, even more concerned, because Damon refused to divulge any information on the reason why. She was winding her spaghetti around her fork, silent and deep in thought. Absentmindedly, she heard Damon clear his throat.
"Do you like it? I think it turned out pretty good."
"Yeah, it's delicious," she softly replied with a smile. "I'm somewhat relieved we can handle teamwork." He returned her smile, finishing his plate of spaghetti and retreating to the sink.
"Of course we can handle teamwork, Bon Bon. All we have to do is not kill each other."
She laughed despite her uneasiness, getting up from the seat and sliding her plate in the sink next to his.
"That's easier said than done."
He winked, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn.
"Hey, why did you want spaghetti for dinner anyway?" Bonnie asked, grabbing their drink glasses off the table and brushing away crumbs. He shrugged.
"Because I like Italian food. Is that a good enough reason?"
She rolled her eyes. Finally finishing up the kitchen, she grabbed her pile of clothes that she left on the floor when they returned home.
"Fine. Tomorrow I get to choose, so don't get any ideas."
"I wouldn't dream of it, Bonnie dear." He gave her a grin before he retrieved his own clothes off the floor and walked towards the direction of the living room. He abruptly stopped, spinning around to gaze around the kitchen.
"Have you seen my bourbon anywhere?" he asked. "I swear I left it in the kitchen." Bonnie could feel her face flush and she was certain Damon noticed it as well. She firmly pressed the pile of clothes into her chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable.
"Um. I haven't seen it…lately."
His eyes narrowed as he slowly made his way back to the kitchen. He pursed his lips as he began circling around her like a lion trapping its prey.
"Lately?"
"Yes. Not since this afternoon."
Damon suddenly stopped directly in front of her so they were eye to eye. She gulped. This is exactly why I needed a drink!
"Where is it Bonnie?"
She pointed to the cabinet under the sink in which Damon swiftly flew over to and flung open, revealing the elusive bottle of bourbon. Almost empty.
"Ha! I knew it!" he amusedly shouted, pointing his own finger back at her like a little boy in grade school. He grabbed the bottle and danced around the kitchen with clothes in hand, laughing like an idiot. She stomped her foot.
"So what? I had a little drink after you left. You were driving me crazy!" she defended, one arm flung up in the air. His dancing ceased to a halt as he eyed her again, a smile playing on his lips.
"You never did any yoga at all, did you?"
She huffed. "No. I'm sorry! I know practicing my magic is important but I had to take a break. It was basically your fault."
Damon let out wild laugh again and Bonnie couldn't help but become even more defensive.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you keep laughing?"
Damon wiped the tears from his eyes and walked past her with a shake of his head.
"Because it's funny. I knew you seemed too relaxed by the time I got home. You weren't exhibiting your typical- 'Bonnie behavior'." She groaned, gathering the clothes close to her and following him out of the kitchen.
"I thought you would be mad!" she kicked his heel, "You know, typical 'Damon behavior'?"
"Please, Bonnie," he stopped walking so he could easily elbow her, "As long as you're working on getting us out of here and drinking simultaneously, I don't care." He winked, turning to leave the room. "And don't flatter yourself. The bottle was more than halfway gone when I left. No one can outdrink Damon Salvatore." Bonnie's level of annoyance was continuing to climb as her new housemate continued to chuckle his way to his bedroom.
"Next time you want a drink," he yelled, "Just help yourself to the bar and stop sneaking stuff around. I'm definitely not campus security."
…
For the rest of the night and into the early morning, Bonnie had been taken several of her clothes to the laundry and folded the rest into neat stacks atop her dresser. She wasn't quite ready to sort it all into drawers yet and it was nearly one o'clock in morning, so she decided to go downstairs and pick a movie to watch until she fell asleep. The choices were endless- rows of VHS tapes lined the shelf next to the television and she was somewhat indecisive. Suddenly, one particular movie caught her eye and she couldn't help but feel excited that it was actually here. Running her finger across the spine, she pulled it off the shelf and out of its case.
Sooner or later, she got the tape working and didn't even have to rewind it. She sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV and after about an hour felt herself slowly descend into sleep.
"The Bodyguard, huh?" a voice called from behind her. Bonnie jolted forward, involuntarily grasping her shirt over her heart. Craning her neck around, she sighed when she saw Damon standing there in nothing but a pair of his new shorts he had picked that day. He was smiling as he messed up his dark locks with his long, tender fingers.
"It's my favorite," she shrugged in reply. He nodded, running a hand over his face as he meandered over to sit next to her.
"I've seen it a few times, myself."
Bonnie eyed him suspiciously through the darkness. He was innocently sitting to the right of her with his knuckles beneath his chin. The streams of light from the TV cast a glow over the both of them, illuminating his bright blue eyes. After a moment, Bonnie came to the realization that he was actually watching the movie and averted her stare back to the television.
The last thing she remembered before drifting off into the weightlessness of sleep was Rachel leaping into Frank's arms as they pressed a passionate kiss against each other's lips, the feel of a soft blanket being drawn over her skin, and a soothingly familiar voice whisper, "Good night, Bon."