A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to thank you all so much for reading this and writing kind reviews. These characters are everything to me and I'm glad you're giving the story a chance. I've gotten a few questions about whether Bamon will go in a romantic direction in this version and I can say with certainty they will NOT. I'm attempting to keep it as close to the show as possible while adding some Bamon angsty/sexual tension stuff that everyone knows and loves ;) I apologize for any "OOC moments", but it is fanfiction after all. I hope you continue on this journey with me!
Disclaimer: As always, I do not own these characters. Only the writing.
…
Day Three
"Give those back!" Bonnie shrieked. She lunged for Damon across the kitchen island where he was dangling a pair of pink, dainty panties in her face. She fiercely grabbed the undergarment, stuffing into her pocket. After the exertion of chasing the idiotic male around the kitchen for half an hour, Bonnie could hardly let out breath without panting.
"What," she huffed, "-in the hell is wrong with you?!" she snatched a wooden spoon off the counter and chucked it directly at Damon's head. "Why couldn't you just tell me to move my laundry like a normal person?"
Damon was grinning from ear to ear at her flustered state. She could tell he was practically enjoying seeing her squirm. He caught the spoon, gently laying it down.
"How exactly was I supposed to know you already had your laundry going? I just went to put my clothes in the dryer and found your girly stuff invading my space." Bonnie gasped, eyes going wide. She crossed her arms.
"My 'girly stuff'?" she air-quoted. "Invading your space?"
"That's what I saiddd,"Damon chimed, taking his usual seat at the table while turning around to face her. Bonnie could hardly keep her composure while a smirk spread across his lips.
"I'm pretty sure I'm the one who suggested that I live in another house and you practically begged me to come home with you!"
"Are you kidding me? I most certainly did not beg," he rebuked. "I just thought it would make more sense to live together; considering, oh I don't know, we're the only people here!"
Bonnie pursed her lips, clenching and unclenching her fists at her side.
"Yes, Damon. It would make sense to live together. So, don't you think it would make sense that we have to share some things around here?" she grabbed the underwear out of her pocket and shook it agitatedly. "Like, the laundry?" She jammed the item back into her pocket with a glare. "Why did you have to bring my underwear to the breakfast table, anyway?"
Damon snorted as he removed himself from his seat and went to gather plates of his "reinvented" pancakes as he so called them.
"It's not like I could ignore them! They were on the top of the pile. I couldn't resist." He sent her a wink to break up the tension in the air, placing the food on the table and sitting down. He spread his napkin across his lap, motioning for her to join him at the table. She shook her head in refusal. Damon sighed, slowly pivoting around to raise his hands in defeat.
"Listen, Bon Bon. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you! I thought it was funny." Bonnie paused to mumble something undignified under her breath before she finally took her seat at the table. Damon's blue eyes gleamed as he pushed the pancakes towards her.
"Your definition of 'funny', and mine, are vastly different," she retorted.
"If you're worried about what I saw, don't be. I'm very familiar with women's undergarments, believe it or not." Damon poured her a cup of coffee, which she prepared earlier, and held it out for her to receive.
Bonnie took the coffee, unable to stop herself from cracking a smile. Before she could smooth away her expression, Damon noticed, grinning with delight.
"I knew you couldn't stay mad at me for long. I'm too irresistible! Like one of those TV shows you say you hate but end up binge-watching." She rolled her eyes, quickly bringing the mug to her lips in order to suppress another smile. Damon eyed her with faux suspicion.
"You're not still mad at me, are you?" he questioned. "Are you mad about something else? Like the fact I let you sleep on the floor last night?"
Bonnie sat the coffee down, tilting her head to side with amusement.
"No, I'm not mad at you. Not about either of those things," she replied, cutting off a piece of pancake and sticking it into her mouth. "I just have an intense urge to strangle you."
Damon raised a brow as he dug his silverware into his breakfast.
"Oh, yeah? So if you're not mad, what would you exactly say you are?"
Bonnie hummed with thought, swallowing the not-so-disgusting pancake before giving her answer.
"Homicidal," she quipped, sweetly batting her eyelashes. Damon shook his head, laughter bubbling from his chest.
"Well, I'm afraid to tell you that position has already been filled, ma'am. Try again."
…
After breakfast was finished, Bonnie congratulated Damon on a job well done with the pancakes, in which he wouldn't stop boasting until she informed him they were a tad bit underdone. Then, she excused herself to take care of her remaining laundry while Damon loaded his own clothes into the empty dryer. Chores complete, they both gathered in the living room, Bonnie curled up on the couch and Damon pouring himself a drink at the bar. She sighed, conflicted on whether or not to continue their previous conversation. They hadn't really come to a decision on how to equally share the mansion and split the work without stepping on each other's toes- and she wasn't about to let him get away with it.
"Seriously though, Damon," she announced. "We have to set some boundaries in this relationship. Neither of us has any idea how long we will be stuck here, and I don't know what I would do if I caught you with my laundry again." Damon tipped a glass of bourbon to his lips, sticking his free hand into his pocket. His eyes were whirling with mischief.
"So, we're in a relationship now?" he inquired, eyebrows wiggling. Bonnie felt heat rising to her cheeks, her heart beginning to thud.
"Friendship," she amended. "We need to set boundaries in this friendship." Damon nodded as he finished off his glass and turned his back to prepare more.
"Okay. What do you have in mind?"
Bonnie pushed herself up on her elbows, swinging her legs out to land on the floor. Adjusting her shirt, she took a deep breath and began.
"I was thinking we could come up with a schedule. A way to split work and fun between ourselves without pissing each other off." Damon laughed, spinning back around to meet her gaze.
"What exactly would qualify as 'fun'?"
"I don't know. Anything entertaining, I suppose. Alone time, or when we play board games or watch movies together."
"Yeah. I guess that's sort of fun," he shrugged with a quirk of his mouth. "What would qualify as 'work'?"
"Practicing my magic, cleaning the house, preparing breakfast and dinner, that sort of thing." Bonnie paused, patting the pocket of her jeans, "Also, perhaps, laundry." She smirked, intending the last part of her information to be a playful jab at their prior conversation. Damon seemed to get the message, raising his glass to her with his head bowing in understanding.
"So how do we split up everything? Make a chart?"
"I was hoping we could just remember to take turns doing shifts," she laughed. "You made breakfast today, I make it tomorrow. You made dinner last night, I make it tonight…"
"Wait, wait, wait," he hushed, throwing up his hands, bourbon sloshing over the side of the glass. Bonnie scrunched her brow in confusion.
"What? What's wrong?"
"I like making breakfast, Bonnie. I sort of have a feeling it's going to be…my 'thing'," he explained, waltzing up to stand in front of her. "I don't wanna take shifts on that."
Bonnie took a moment to soak in his concerns, intertwining her fingers while thoughtfully tapping her foot.
"Alright, sure, calm down. That's easy enough."
"Thank you," he nodded, sitting on the opposite side of the couch. "About dinner shifts- technically we prepared it together, I only chose the meal. I like that set up. That way, we can work on our teamwork every night at dinner while we take turns choosing what we're eating." Bonnie intently pondered his words, somewhat surprised she felt the same.
"Wow, Damon. It's scary you're actually making sense." He scoffed, slinging back his drink then gesturing to her with a grin.
"Hey, I get to make sense sometimes. Be fair." Bonnie shrugged her shoulders with a little smile.
"Okay then. All we have to do is take turns with everything else, right? I cleaned the house yesterday, you can today. The laundry is yours today, I'll do another load tomorrow. So on and so forth." Damon was bobbing his head, listening and seemingly agreeing with every word.
"We can even do that 'alone time' thing today too, if you want," Bonnie suggested, propping her head against her knuckle on the arm rest.
"What exactly would we do in this 'alone time'?"
"Anything you want. I am going upstairs to relax and work on my spells in peace and quiet. You can go out hunting for squirrels or something." Damon cringed, finishing off his drink with a look of disgust.
"But I don't wanna do that," he whined. "Their blood is an acquired taste that I simply do not have." Bonnie cackled despite the downcast expression on his face. As she pulled herself away from the couch, an interesting thought popped into her mind. In a moment of quick determination, she grasped the end of her sleeve with her opposite hand and dragged it up- revealing her tantalizing brown wrist. She sucked in her breath, slowing raising her wrist to meet Damon's enquiring eyes.
"If you're going to be a baby about it, just have some of mine." She intended her voice to be thick with confidence, but ended up sounding almost imperceptible. This is totally not a big deal, she consoled herself. Damon had supplied her with his own blood a time before when her life depended on it, and now wouldn't be any different. She was living with a vampire whose needs had to be met whether she enjoyed the procedure or not. Though, in all honesty, she was testing him. Damon flipping out on blood lust wouldn't be good for eitherof them, but especially her. Without her magic she felt unarmed, defenseless, exposed- vulnerable. How could she possibly endure the rest of eternity like this?
After a moment, he cocked his head, lips pursed in his musings. He suddenly smiled.
"As much as I'd love to take you up on that offer- I can't. I wouldn't do that unless I had to. My blood lust actually isn't bad at all." Bonnie's eyebrows raised in speculation. It's almost as if he knew my intention…
"You're sure you don't need any? I don't think I'm going to offer ever again."
"Trust me, Bon. If I was in desperate need I would have lunged the moment you rolled up your sleeve."
"Gee, that's reassuring…" Bonnie sarcastically mumbled, a shiver running over her spine. Damon casually pushed himself off the couch and over towards the bar, sitting his empty glass down. With his blue eyes aglow, he silently made his way over to her, reaching forward to take her presented arm gently between his hands. His smooth fingers glided over the fabric of her shirt, grasping the delicate lace patterns as he pulled with careful concentration across her skin. Once her sleeve had been completely rolled down, he squeezed her tender wrist with a silent 'thank you' mouthed from his lips, before he ambled to the front door. Bonnie exhaled, slowly wrapping her arms around herself. She hadn't taken a breath since she rolled up her sleeve.
"That's really the only good thing about this place!" Damon exclaimed. "I can almost feel human again." He smiled, yanking the door open. Bonnie's senses were quick to recover after being partially stunned by Damon's sentimental gesture.
"Well, uh- that's good to hear, I guess," she hollered back, moving swiftly in his direction before he could depart. She placed her hand on the doorframe. "Where are you going?"
Damon glanced down at his wrist and gave it a light tap. "Judging by my watch, it is clearly my 'alone time,' Bonnie. In which I'm going to go do alone things."
"So you're saying 'alone time' will always be scheduled after breakfast?"
Damon held up his imaginary watch to her face. "That's what the clock says. I'm just relaying the message." Bonnie rolled her eyes skyward, fingers reaching to rub against her temples. His good moments really don't seem to last very long. Turning around, she kicked the door closed with her heel.
"He's a twelve year old, I swear to God…"
"Hey! I can hear you," Damon bellowed from the other side of the door. "You're just grumpy I'm leaving because you secretly realized you love spending time with me." Bonnie was halfway across the room before she wheeled around to stare at the door with her arms crossed.
"Is that so? Then why did I slam the door in your face?"
There was a brief moment of silence before she heard a scoff. "Easy," he replied. "You're just denying your true feelings."
"The only feelings I'm having right now are the reoccurring ones where I want to strangle you!" she exclaimed, stomping off towards her bedroom before circling back to grab his bottle of bourbon. "Now go have that 'alone time' I've heard so much about." She heard Damon laughing as she made her way down the hall.
"Don't mind if I do! Have fun with your spells, Bon Bon," his voice reverberated.
…
"Damn it! God. Damnit." Bonnie heaved an innocent stack of books across the room and flung herself, face down, on the bed. Her eyelids burned, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She wasn't angry, really- just frustrated beyond comprehension. Why in the hell wouldn't her magic work? Was it her fault or was this universe somehow to blame? Bonnie rolled onto her back, head pounding. So many questions, not so many answers.
The moment Damon had left, Bonnie went up to her room to wind down. Consuming a glass or two of bourbon before opting for meditation, she settled herself in to get ready to do some magic. She felt a sense of contentment and balance for the first time in days, her head clearing and heart thumping a regular beat. The fact that the voice of her annoying housemate was absent wasn't too bad either. Everything was going so smoothly, Bonnie should have known it was too good to be true. The instant the first spell escaped her lips and nothing happened, again, her breath caught in her throat. She tried again, again, and again until she was practically yelling at the top of her lungs and gesturing wildly with her arms. After an hour had passed, Bonnie gave up. Mostly because she had exhausted herself, but also because her confidence was shot. What good was she to Damon or even worse, herself, if she couldn't even manage to make an object float? Could she really call herself a witch?
Now here she was. Laying on the bed feeling sorry for herself, three hours gone by. The morning had quickly morphed into the afternoon and Damon still hadn't returned.
"Maybe one of the squirrels ate him," she muttered. "He would probably prefer that rather than being trapped here for eternity." She sighed, grudgingly dragging herself off the bed to retrieve the fallen books. She bent down, slowly gathering them into her arms as a dark shadow rapidly cast itself across the bedroom and over her feet. Bonnie shrieked, springing upward, books clutched to her chest. She was facing the window, deep brown eyes turned to the sky. Oh, she calmed herself. It's just the solar eclipse. A minute or two passed before the rays of sun poured themselves back into the room, its comforting warm light covering her troubled heart. Bonnie laid the books back on the desk and went into the bathroom to freshen up before Damon came home. She already felt bad enough without him letting her know her hair was going in five different directions.
…
Bonnie settled herself on the couch in front of the TV in the living room, awaiting Damon's arrival. She was snuggled up in a blanket, her choice of clothing being a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, left her feeling somewhat chilly in the empty Boarding House. Finally, after another hour, the door clicked- giving way to the obnoxious sound of footsteps and Damon's horrid singing of "Hotel California" filling the room. Bonnie furrowed her brow, whipping her head around to press a finger to her lips.
"Shh, cut that out! I can't hear what they're saying," she chided. Damon smirked, flinging his discarded plaid shirt over his shoulder. He was left wearing nothing but a white undershirt and some jeans. Bonnie quickly appraised his looks before returning to her movie, grasping a pillow to her chest in frustration.
"You might not be able to hear what they're saying but you know," he teased. Damon took his time sauntering over to the couch, he threw his shirt onto a table before flopping down to sit on the opposite side. Bonnie's eyes refused to glance in his direction; she was completely engrossed watching the couple displayed across the screen.
"I'm about to miss my favorite part, Damon! Shut your mouth."
He laughed, jostling the cushions as he shifted his weight. "We literally just watched this last night." Bonnie slowly craned her neck around with a vengeful look in her eye.
"I'm not going to ask you again."
Damon, sensing her blood about to boil over, leaned away to zip his fingers across his lips. She nodded, returning her attention to the movie.
About ten minutes later, she heard him clear his throat.
"So, are you going to be a good roomie ask me about my day?"
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
"No thanks."
"Oh, alright, I'm sorry. How was your day?"
Bonnie rolled her eyes. "I don't wanna talk about that right now, Damon." She could almost feel his eyes boring a hole into her back.
"Okay…what about dinner? I thought you would be getting stuff out for that before I got home."
"I'm not really hungry. You can go ahead and eat though." The room filled with silence, other than the muffled dialogue coming through the speakers. She heard Damon taking a deep breath then releasing it. Suddenly, he hopped off the couch and headed in the direction of the kitchen.
"Hold on, I'll be right back!" he called over his shoulder. Bonnie shook her head, readjusting the pillows behind her and the one in her lap. What could he be up to?
After a minute, Damon reemerged from the kitchen with a plate in each hand. Bonnie leaned her head backwards to see what items they contained.
"Peanut butter and jelly. Bon appetite'," he grinned. She sighed, although she hated to admit she felt a smile tugging at her lips. Damon placed the sandwich in her lap before settling down beside her again, this time, a little closer. His body was pressed into the pillow against her back; she could feel him propping his elbow near her shoulder. A second later, she covered her nose with her blanket in disgust.
"Oh my God, you reek," she complained. Damon's full mouth let out a garbled chuckle.
"See, you would know why I smell if you would have asked me what I did today." Bonnie took a small bite of her sandwich before reluctantly indulging him.
"You are unbelievable…Okay, Damon. What did you do today?"
"Wow, Bonnie. Thanks for asking! That's so kind of you." She groaned, fiercely elbowing him in the stomach. He choked, laughingly pleading her to forgive him.
"Well, since you asked so nicely," he continued, "I spent the entirety of my day running the track at the high school. Then, I helped myself to the fully stocked bar at the Mystic Grill. 'Alone time' was really, very magical for me." Bonnie nodded her head.
"That explains the stench," she mumbled. "You better take a shower sooner rather than later for the sake of our health." Bonnie popped the rest of the sandwich into her mouth as Damon sent her a wink before he quickly swept the plates away, heading back towards the kitchen. She was left alone for hardly even a moment as Damon jumped back into the spot he had assigned himself on the couch.
"I can't believe you skipped your turn on dinner! You messed the whole schedule up just because you're in a mood."
"Pfft! I am not in a mood. You're the one who decided to check out for four hours instead of cleaning the house like you're supposed to."
"Okay- I admit I screwed up on that one. But I wasn't aware 'alone time' had a time limit?"
"It doesn't," she replied. "Just as long as you get your other work done as well."
Damon took a beat, crossing and uncrossing his legs while exhaling a breath.
"This roommate thing is tricky stuff."
Bonnie ran a hand through her short, brown locks. "No one said it would be easy," she stifled.
An extensive moment of silence carried throughout the evening, until Bonnie felt a finger poke square between her shoulders.
"Now that that's behind us- are you gonna tell me what's bothering you?"
Bonnie pressed her lips into a thin line, eyes locked onto the television screen. Her fingernails forcefully dug into the pillow.
"I know you Bonnie, but I don't know you that well. Despite what you think of me, I can't read your mind. So tell me what's up." To emphasize his point, he poked her between the shoulders again. But this time, with an increase in pressure.
"Knock it off, Damon," she growled, swatting behind her shoulder. "There is nothing up with me."
"Oh, really? So this whole 'grouchy, not hungry' thing is typical Bonnie behavior? You were already grouchy before I left today!"
"Don't even start with that 'typical Bonnie behavior' crap again!" she fumed, whirling around to face him.
"I was not grouchy, I was annoyed," she corrected. "I am not grouchy now, either. Just tired, is all." His scrutinizing ocean blue eyes scanned her face.
"I believe you," he replied. "I just don't think you're telling me the whole story." She gave an exasperated sigh, turning around to gaze at the television once more. She laid her head against the back of the couch.
"How did practicing your magic go?"
Silence.
"Well, I'm gonna take that as not so good…"
"It didn't work. Again," she whispered, giving in to his suspicions. Damon clasped a supportive hand on her shoulder, slightly shaking her.
"Hey, at least you're trying! That's a whole lot better than not trying at all." She disappointedly shrugged.
"You tried the bourbon/meditation/yoga combo though, right?"
"No," she laughed. "I left out the yoga." He released her shoulder to tap her on the head.
"See, that's the problem. All you gotta do is tweak your methods and next time you'll be fine!"
"Yeah, I guess so. I just don't feel like I'm doing enough. Like I'm the most useless Bennett on the planet…"
"Hey. You're not useless, Bonnie," he consoled. "I think you've proven that plenty of times." She felt Damon shift away from her, leaning into the pile of pillows. She briefly turned around to display a teasing grin before resuming her position between her pillows and blanket.
"Wow, who knew Damon Salvatore could be such a softie?"
"Me? I'm sorry Miss, clearly you've mistaken me with someone else," he snorted, with a playfulness to his voice. "Though, I've heard his jawline was sculpted by heavens angels themselves- so I'll take that as a compliment." Bonnie busted out laughing, covering her mouth before she could stop herself. The mood in the room noticeably lightened.
"Anddd, there he is," she bantered, slightly turning around to jab him in his own shoulder.
"The one and only," he smirked.
…
The pair once again found themselves lounged before the TV, the night slowly dragging its way into the morning. They watched movie after movie until they were practically delirious. Then, they fell into a content silence. Damon widely stretched his arms above his head, a deep yawn escaping his lips. Bonnie subconsciously did the same, reaching her arms high into the air with a lengthy yawn. Their heads were nearly touching, Bonnie's against the back of the couch while Damon's was propped alongside a pillow. He struggled to open his drowsy eyelids, this vision of Bonnie's hair blurring the images playing across the television. Damon had to admit the day had been rather taxing- his limbs were sore to the bone and his mind had turned to a pool of mush. He ran his tongue over his dry lips.
"Bonnie," he uttered, barely above a whisper. "Are you awake?"
There was a long pause before she stirred, faintly tilting her head towards his voice.
"Mhm," she breathed. Damon wasn't really certain if he imagined her reply or not, but nonetheless, he continued.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Okay." Her voice was no more than a murmur.
"When the Other Side was collapsing, and we were just standing there waiting for the end to come, what made you hold my hand?"
The silence that followed seemed to last forever, reassuring Damon that he was positive he had imagined the whole conversation. He must have been dreaming. Unexpectedly, he sensed movement in front of him as pillows began to flop out of place, the couch slightly rocking. From what he could tell through heavy eyelids, Bonnie was nestling the blanket underneath her chin while pulling pillows beneath her head and stuffing some behind her back. When she was contented, he heard her let out a sigh.
"I was scared," she mumbled. "Weren't you?"
Damon was speechless for a moment. He couldn't tell if she was actually awake or just talking in her sleep. Either way, he wasn't prepared for an answer.
"Yeah," he softly replied. "I guess I was afraid."
A smile ghosted across Bonnie's lips before quickly disappearing.
"It's okay to feel afraid sometimes, Damon. That means you'll do anything to fight to stay alive."
Post A/N:
So a LOT of stuff happened between Bamon in this chapter which is definitely setting some stuff up working towards the end of this series, and I'm excited for you guys to see! Will Damon truly have patience while Bonnie works out her magic or will everything blow up in his face? You will just have to wait and see… a lot can happen in a week.
(I hope you appreciated Damon's song choice "Hotel California" by The Eagles :) I feel like that song perfectly describes the situation they're in- if you're not familiar you should take a listen. Some of the lyrics include "we're all just prisoners here…", "last thing I remember I was running for the door, had to find a passage back to the place I was before", "you can check out any time you like but you can never leave.")
Thanks for reading!