A/N: …Hello? Is anyone there? If you're getting the notification for this story update you're right- it's been almost 5 years since the last chapter! I can't really say what happened, but it was a mixture of writers block and disappointment how Bamon ended on the show. I had no intention of finishing this story until I got a notif saying some favorited and followed this story the other day. Naturally, it caught my attention. I quickly read through the chapters and BAM I thought of an ending. Even with the bittersweet ending of the show, my love for Bamon and stanning them never faltered. To this day I believe Bonnie Bennett and Damon Salvatore are soulmates. They are the perfect yin and yang, lightness to darkness, etc. I think you can see a real maturity develop between the two in this chapter that will set the tone for their relationship beginning to grow in the weeks that followed. Of course, nothing obviously romantic occurred between them in this series, but that doesn't mean what happened in their first week couldn't blossom into something more. Anyway, I hope this is an ending you enjoy. If you want me to write something new let me know! I started this story as a teenager and finished it as an adult. It's definitely full circle. Here are days 6 & 7. Thank you so much.
Edit: So, I got bored during the quarantine and decided to make a quick bonus story! It's entirely Bonnie's POV. Pretty much my version of her figuring out she caught some feelings! Hope you all read it and enjoy. Maybe I'll make more bonus stories in the future? Hm…
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Please Review.
…
Day 6
She was falling…
One moment Bonnie Bennett was staring down a dark hole and the next she was tumbling, head first. She screamed as she clawed at the dirt walls surrounding her. Briefly, she held onto a root of a tree to slow the trajectory of her fall, but to no avail the root slipped through her grasp. "Is this how Alice felt when she fell down the rabbit hole?" her mind pondered. Any minute now she knew her body was going to collide with the earth. Perhaps, splitting a bone or two. It was too dark to tell how much longer she had left, and tears began to bubble. Why was this happening to her? Why was she here, in the first place? Weren't her friends coming to save her? "Help me!" she yelled out into the nothingness. "Please! I don't want to die!" Suddenly, from the darkness, a voice whispered back. "It's up to you how this ends, Bonnie," it said. "Hold out your hand and make it stop. You are the only one who can save you." Bonnie sniffled, eyes searching for the owner of the familiar voice. It was the voice of a woman, someone who sounded eerily similar to her own. "You're running out of time. Reach your hand out and make it stop," the voice insisted. Bonnie took a deep breath and did as instructed, firmly holding her palm outward. "Stop!"
The witch sucked in the air around her so quickly, it was as if life had been breathed into her to revive her. Bonnie sat straight up, eyes as wide as saucers. Faintly, beads of sweat rolled down her cheeks. Bonnie unclenched her fingers which were dug into her sheets, and pushed back the layers cocooning her on the bed. Her clammy hands traced her body from her feet, all the way back up to the matted hair on her head. She was here, alive, laying in Stefan's bed at the Boarding House. Quickly glancing at a clock she saw the time was one-thirty in the morning.
"It was all a dream," she breathed. "Wasn't it?"
Bonnie had spent nearly a week in this broken record of a hell hole, and distinctly remembered she hadn't had one dream since. Not even a daydream. But, maybe what she experienced wasn't a dream at all. Maybe it was a vision. Bonnie had been known to concoct those out of body experiences a time or two when she was first coming into her powers. It always happened when she was at the brink of disaster, sadness, or depression. The voice she heard always sounded like the universe speaking to her on a personal level. In a subconscious way Bonnie was speaking to the present Bonnie. How, after all this time, could she make that happen again? With seemingly no powers to speak of at the current moment?
"It's a sign for the future," she mumbled, as if her subconscious self fed her the answer.
She was right. No one was coming to save her. No one was coming to the rescue. Bonnie could waste days, years, on the thought that she was worthless and powerless. But what good would that do? Bourbon wasn't doing the trick. Not yoga, not mediation. It got to the point that she made her own body contract an illness as a form of punishment. The only thing that could bring her powers back into fruition was her and her only, and the hope that they could come back. Bonnie spent hours doubting herself, day after day, and the flame within her grew dimmer. That couldn't happen anymore. She wouldn't allow it. The vision was too powerful itself to ignore. Then, the other matter at hand to be dealt with was-
"Damon."
Bonnie swung her legs out of bed and headed for the door. As her fingertips grazed the doorknob, she winced, remembering their fight that happened over five hours ago. The last thing she told the vampire was to leave her alone. Bonnie opened the door to the bedroom and swiftly made her way across the hall and down the stairs to the living room. At the time, she meant what she said. But now, after the vision, she realized that couldn't be so. Whether they liked it or not, the pair needed each other. Bonnie felt what it was like to be alone in such a darkness, and she didn't want that emptiness to consume her again. Even though Damon acted selfishly most of the time, she didn't want that for him either. She shivered at the thought. They were probably the oddest pairing on earth, but damn it, they were stuck.
"Hello? Damon, are you home?" she called, meandering around the living space in search of clues of his whereabouts.
From what she could remember, the living room was just as intact as she left it with Damon staring blankly at her retreating figure. The pillows on the couch were askew, the newspaper with the crossword puzzle was laying front-side up on the floor, and the vacuum cleaner was shoved away in the corner were Damon heaved it in his manic state. Suddenly, her eyes caught a glimpse of something sitting on top of the bar. She quickly made her way over to the suspicious glass of bourbon sitting plainly in the middle of the counter. The bottle was missing.
"How thoughtful," she scoffed, a weary smile on her lips. "He leaves me a glass but takes the whole friggin' bottle!"
She shook her head, swiping the glass into her hand and plopping down on the couch. She swirled the dark liquid in rhythmic circles for a time, then took a sip. Judging from the serene silence engulfing the Salvatore Boarding House, it was clear its master was currently off property. She pressed the cool glass against her cheek with a sigh. Their first huge fight as roommates may have officially been their last.
"God only knows where he's gone, and what he might be doing to get his mind off things…"
What if he came home and told her it was best to go their separate ways? What if the pressure got to be too much for him and he's destroying the entire town? What if she was forced to stay in this afterlife- alone?
"Okay, that's it," she growled at herself, jumping to her feet. "Enough with the hypotheticals. You are going to go upstairs, take a shower, get dressed, and get out of here for a minute. Clear your overactive imagination. Hell, maybe go for a run. That seems to work pretty well for Damon in the stress reliving department."
Bonnie hurried up the stairs before she could change her mind and took the quickest, hottest shower of her life. The steam reinvigorated her senses, and the fragrant soap sent a pleasant smile to her lips. This was the most optimistic she felt her entirety of her time here, when frankly she should be feeling the opposite. She and Damon's existence hang in the balance of time, and now their friendship was on equally shaky ground. The only thing she could do was hope for a resolution by the end of the day, one they both could live with.
After thoroughly drying herself off, the witch slipped on pair of sporty black shorts and a tank top. She pulled on an oversized sweatshirt over the ensemble, and slipped on some socks and tennis shoes. With her hair being slightly damp, and too short to secure with an elastic, she opted for a cotton headband. Charging down the stairs, she burst through the front door and out into the night. Well, early morning if she was being specific. As she had tied her shoes upstairs, the clock rang three in the morning. If this were present day, and there was actual people living in the town, a young girl such as herself going for a run in the cloak of darkness would be unthinkable. Luckily, the only predator that could stalk her in the night was her roommate, and she was fairly sure Damon wasn't in the mood to take a bite out of her.
Her heels thumped against the pavement, one pounding after the other. Right, left, right, left. The air was cool and tickled the back of her throat as her lungs demanded more oxygen. She breathed in, and out. The wind would slightly pick up, here or there, causing stands of her hair to dance in the corner of her eyes. After an hour, the heaviness of her legs became light as a feather. She soared down the street, around sharp corners, and in-between trees. Bonnie felt free. She hadn't noticed the shackles she had placed on herself until she finally let go. A laugh escaped her lips as she pushed onward, passing houses, stores, and more light posts. It was as if they were guiding her way. Aware that her legs were slowing down, she braced herself and leaned back, placing her hands on her hips to steady herself. With her feet still, Bonnie's heart raced a mile a minute, the blood pounding in her ears. Raising an eyebrow, the witch took in her unfamiliar surroundings. The sun hadn't began to rise yet, and it was difficult to decipher exactly where she was in Mystic Falls. More importantly, how would she return home?
"Well, now you've done it," she rumbled. "Great idea Bonnie, you're lost!"
All she could think to do was sit next to one of the light posts and rest. The sun would be rising in a couple hours, and with the newfound light everything would become clear. She sat down unceremoniously and nestled her back against the post. Arms crossed, she sighed. She wondered what Damon had gotten himself into in the hours they spent apart. He was so wound up when they parted ways, they both were. I think they underestimated exactly how hard it would be to not only be dead, but companions in death. No matter how much they could try to make light of the situation with movies, and dinner, all in all it was just plain freaky. Unnatural. Who could blame them if they got drunk every once in a while? Lost their heads a time or two? This wasn't something that was meant to be rationalized, but nonetheless, Bonnie was trying. Damon too. She rubbed her hands across her face, the visual of her vampire friend doing the same motion washed over her mind.
"I hope he's safe…" she murmured, swallowing hard. "Please be safe."
…
"Cheers!"
Damon held out his bottle of bourbon to his imaginary friend in a toast, then tipped the bottle to his lips, taking another swig. By now, the alcohol had managed not only to numb his senses but his taste buds as well. Regrettably, the vampire wished his drink of choice was doing a bit more. He thought the quicker he downed it, the quicker he would become drunk and forget this night had even happened. His plan actually backfired and he felt more sober after every passing minute. He gave a low snarl, hurtling the expensive booze a foot away from him until it left his sight and crashed somewhere in the distance. He chuckled, though not in amusement.
"What is with you and your temper, Salvatore?" he asked aloud.
Damon had left the Boarding House around eight-thirty and quickly found himself in a predicament of where to go to. It's not that he actually wanted to leave, but the witch gave him no choice! Her normally light-hearted deep brown eyes had turned sad and hurtful. Her tone was nothing short of banishing him from where he stood. Not that he blamed her. For the millionth time in his life, his temper ruled his words. Damon bit his lip as he wracked his fingers through his thick black hair. He drew himself to his feet, hands in his pockets, as he gazed up to the night sky. It was a rooftop he was standing on. Probably the third one he leaped onto in the past hour. He was outside of his neighborhood, probably a few miles away in the least. With his vampiric speed, a casual walk could lead him into another town in a matter of minutes if he wasn't careful. He didn't want to stray too far. Even though Bonnie demanded to be left alone, he wasn't going to let her out of his sight that easily.
"She'll be fine you lunatic," he chided, offhandedly scratching his chin. "She's Bonnie freaking Bennett. She can handle herself. She doesn't need me. All I do is make things worse."
He nodded as if he were in agreement with himself. As if he were a leapfrog, Damon shot from his feet and landed on the driveway beneath him. Maybe if I stay away she'll get better. Maybe her powers will come back and we can go home.
"I'll check up on her every couple days or so. Mostly so I know she hasn't burned the damn house down or something…"
Damon strolled across the vacant homes' lawn, his jaw tight. Why had he said what he did? Why did he feel the need to tear her apart like that? He picked at the zipper on his jacket, eyes unblinkingly staring into the trees around him. A shiver crept its way up his spine. Cold, and unnerving. Damon had felt that feeling more times than he care to admit. It was fear. Damon Salvatore was afraid. God, he was afraid of everything. First, it was death. Then, it was the thought of never seeing his friends and family again. Elena. Now, he was afraid of something new. He was afraid he might have lost Bonnie, too. But when did Bonnie Bennett, of all people, end up being someone who meant something to him? Maybe it was because in this world she was his lifeline. Without her, he was floating in space for rest of eternity. Maybe it was more than that. The realization hit the vampire like a gut punch, and he staggered, bracing himself against a tree trunk for support. He actually liked the girl. Romantically? He didn't think so. Friendship wise, family wise? Of course. In a way, Bonnie was always the one who could sear a hole through his heart and cut her way to his soul. In the best and worst ways possible. That's why their relationship has always had a complexity to it compared to others. It was raw. Damon could say without a doubt he didn't feel comfortable being exposed that way to a person, much less a woman. A woman who wasn't Elena. Damon always preferred to hash out tough circumstances by either punching a wall or having sex against a wall, and living with the witch like they were had sent him into a state of confusion. He had buckets of pent up energy he couldn't release, and preferred not to spend the rest of his afterlife drunk off his ass to cope with it. Being domestic wasn't his thing. It's a Stefan thing. It's gross. He didn't mind hanging out, eating, watching movies, but when things become complicated- Damon just wants to run. He didn't want to clean the house or make a damn chore schedule. He wanted Bonnie to figure out her magic and send them back home. But, once again, Damon was putting himself first. He knew Bonnie wanted to go home just as much as him even though he accused her of the opposite. Clearly, her powers were doing a slow process of recharging. Yelling at her wouldn't speed things up. If Damon could chalk everything up to being a strange, unique sort of circumstance, he could live with himself. It's not like they were a freshly married couple who moved into their new home. They were dead, in a collapsed Other Side realm, and stuck in 1994. May 10th, 1994. Damon swore under his breath and wished he hadn't chucked his bottle of bourbon. Sooner or later he was going to have to explain that one and he wasn't looking forward to it. What if Bonnie decided to leave him behind? What if she didn't want to talk to him anymore?
"She may already be gone before I get back."
Those words spoken aloud did nothing to brighten his spirit. The only hope he had now was a truce- and an apology. Damon had a feeling he would be apologizing quite frequently if necessary. He felt his pace begin to quicken and the wind was soon whipping his cheeks as he flew through abandoned streets and woods. Saying the words "I'm sorry" always tasted bitter on his tongue, but for Bonnie, he would do it. He cursed underneath his breath once more as he rounded a corner on Main Street. He would never understand the effect the witch had on him. He could never understand how her mere presence could twist his insides. He hoped by the time they were headed home he would have more answers.
In a matter of a few minutes he was standing in front of the Boarding House. Its curtains were open and lights were bright. Bonnie was home. He tentatively approached the front door, playing the conversation he wanted to have in his mind back again. He stopped, the words in his head disappearing completely. The door was unlocked, and standing open slightly. What the hell?
"Bonnie! Hey, Bon are you here?" he yelled, pushing his way into the living room. His eyes were immediately drawn to the empty glass left sitting on the bar. He was holding the glass in his hand in less than a second, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply. It was covered in her scent.
"Bonnie I know you were down here! Stop scaring me, okay? I'll leave you alone if you just answer me!"
Silence.
Damon zoomed up the staircase and burst through Stefan's bedroom door. The bed was neatly made. Bonnie was nowhere to be found. Just to make sure, he poked his head into the bathroom only to find the shower wet and towels on the floor. He raised a brow. Alright, so she had a shower. Drank the glass of bourbon I left her. Then what?
Damon came to apologize, not to go on some warped scavenger hunt! Bonnie had never left like this before. He glanced at the clock on her dresser and saw that it was nearly four in the morning. He sighed, scratching his head. There was only one thing left to do and he knew Bonnie was going to punch him again. He opened every drawer in her dresser and rifled through. He gulped, looking over his shoulder as if she were going to nail him in the head any second. He knew they only went shopping once and he had a good idea of what they brought home on their haul. A sweater, plaid shirts, shorts, sweats, a couple blouses. He sucked in his breath, narrowly avoiding some undergarments. Where was that hoodie? I could have sworn she got a hoodie that was too big for her.
"The hoodie is missing. Okay, what about shoes?"
Damon didn't waste time neatly organizing the drawers and slammed them shut. Bonnie had a line of shoes against the wall. Boots, sandals, a pair of sneakers. A gap was open where another set of shoes used to be.
"Christ, she really left," he boomed. "Where would she go?"
Damon was downstairs before a second could tick by. He started for the door, but stopped himself. What if she left to clear her head? Blowing through town guns blazing might not be the best idea in the world. Damon decided he would give her one hour. If she wasn't back before then, he would go on the hunt to retrieve her. Decidedly, he removed his jacket and flung it across the couch. He would shower, have a snack, and hopefully his misplaced housemate would be safely back in their home. Our home? Damon shuddered. For better or for worse, this home and a shell of a town belonged to them and them only. With one of them missing, it was a painful absence. Now more than ever the vampire knew the passage back to their present day lied in the hands of a witch whose trust he had broken. He was hoping she would give him a chance to fix things before it was too late.
…
Sunlight had broken on the sleepy town nearly two hours ago. Bonnie had slipped in and out of a grocery store and was now slurping a protein shake. The run had completely zapped any sort of energy out her and she was desperate to refuel if she were to return home before afternoon hit. I hope Damon won't be angry with me. She knew how the vampire felt about extended leaves without the other person tagging along. She imagined him either in a drunken stupor snoring in bed, or eyes aflame flipping over cars until he found her. The witch didn't mean to stray so far away, but her feet took her to where she needed to go. Her spirit had lifted considerably, and moreover she was sure she could feel power prickling beneath her fingertips.
Bonnie smiled when she saw the sign for the library coming into view. Absorbing herself into a plot of a good book was her only escape from reality, and this particular reality was one she knew she would need escape from quite often. Finishing her shake, she discarded the bottle and excitedly entered the library with the prospect of nabbing at least ten books to add to the Salvatore library collection.
After the bookstore, Bonnie went into a boutique. She had a good time choosing a few necklaces, a bright red dress with spaghetti straps, and other odds and ends. Pleased, she stuffed her treasures into a backpack. This field trip turned out to be one of great value, not to mention self-discovery. If she could talk Damon into having a civilized conversation, this might turn out to be the best day of being dead yet.
…
Bonnie tensed as she finally approached the Boarding House. The eclipse had engulfed the sky nearly an hour ago as she retraced her steps to find the route back home. How did the time fly by like that? This wasn't going to be easy to explain. She reached forward and gingerly turned the knob, the door loudly creaking open as if it were scolding her itself. The first thing she noticed was the newspaper that she left lying on the floor was gone. The couch cushions were rearranged, and a leather jacket lay thrown over the back side. The television had been turned on at one point. The low static hum reverberated as she walked in a circle. Her eyes swam over the kitchen, the bar, and the upstairs landing. The house seemed quiet. Peaceful.
"Damon? Are you home?" she called, expecting him to come flying out of his bedroom.
When nothing happened, Bonnie nervously tweaked her mouth and headed upstairs. Going into her own room, she tossed the backpack of stuff onto her bed and crossed her arms.
"He's really been out this whole time?" she whispered, mechanically removing her shoes and socks. Next was her sweatshirt. He must be off the deep end. Bonnie refused to believe that but could come up with no other alternative. She flopped backward onto the bed with an unsatisfied sound. Bonnie wanted nothing more than to hop into action and set out on the search for her missing roommate, but at the current moment, her bones were mush. Unable to focus, the witch sat up slowly and massaged her aching neck. Suddenly, an interesting idea dawned on her. If she thought about it any longer she might come to her senses and change her mind. Smirking, she tucked a fluffy towel underneath her arm and plucked a bottle of lavender soap off her bathroom counter. With prowess she stalked down the hall until she stopped in front of Damon's bedroom door. As if there were an impenetrable force, it took several seconds for Bonnie to muster the courage to cross the threshold into the unknown.
"A vampires lair, huh?" she softly spoke, eyeing the dark drapery and gothic furniture. The sheets on his enormous bed looked to be silk. It was unkempt as if he had just crawled out of bed.
With Damon gone, Bonnie thought this might be a good time to soak her bones in her roommate's infamous bath tub. She nearly gagged at the thought of how many women had inhabited it at one point. Huffing, she stomped her way into the bathroom as if she owned it and flipped on the light. There it was. A simple eggshell white tub off in the corner by a window. A candelabra was set on a nearby table, and Bonnie took the opportunity to locate a match and light the candles aglow.
"Should have brought up some wine," she sighed, turning the handles on the tub. With a stopper securely in the drain, Bonnie let the gushing water fill the tub. The lavender scent from the bubbles wafted through the air. Stripping off the rest of her dirty clothing, she carefully stepped into the tub and sank into the hot water. A content sigh sang from her lips as her chin lay just above the water, bubbles tickling her ears. The witch blissfully stretched her toes out and moved the water to and fro with the back of her hand. As time went on and her skin began to prune, she held her nose shut as she lay back and dunked her head. Sitting upward, she spit away excess soap bubbles and slicked her short brown hair away from her forehead. The water was just about lukewarm an on the verge of becoming unpleasant, as if to say it was time to say goodbye. She nodded in accordance, gripping the stopper with a harsh tug. The drain gave a loud cry as the water swirled into a tornado, slowly escaping down the hole and through the pipes. Bonnie smiled, reaching outward to snag her towel. She sat naked, wringing out her hair. Yawning, she titled her neck side to side, pleased with its fluid movement. The hot bath was a success. Standing, she wrapped the towel around herself and secured it with a knot. In the next second, eyes wide, Bonnie was hoisted in the air.
"Oh my God," Damon cried.
It took Bonnies' brain several tries to figure out was going on in coordination with her physical body. Vaguely, she could feel her chest pressed roughly against another. An arm had snaked itself under her left, and the other was holding her tight, fingers laced through her hair.
"You're alive, you're okay," he muttered as if he were talking to himself.
"Damon? What the hell is going on?" she squeaked, finally realizing whose arms she was in.
"I don't know Bonnie, I've only been looking for you for hours," he replied, voice snapping somewhere between agitation and worry.
The witch looked down to see her toes dangling. Damon Salvatore was standing in the middle of the bathtub, clothed in jeans and a t-shirt, holding her.
"First of all, I'm technically dead," she pointed out, squirming. "Could you please put me down?"
"Oh." He coughed, slowly lowering her as he took one leg out the tub to make room for her two. He had a hand on her wrist. It was almost as if he let go he thought she would disappear.
Bonnie awkwardly tucked a stray hair behind her ear, splaying a hand across her bare chest as if it would change the fact that she was nude underneath that towel.
"I would love to have a long conversation about the past day, but I'm sort of- you know," she trailed.
"Naked and in my bathroom? Yes, I can see that," he smirked, shaking his head.
"Yeah, well. You weren't using it," she grumbled, her cheeks reddening.
"Why don't you find a change of clothes and we can talk downstairs when you're ready?"
"Really?" she blinked.
"Really. It's been an insane day and I don't want to fight with you anymore. Agreed?"
"Sure," she nodded. "Thanks."
"Okay, I'll uh- see you downstairs when you're decent."
Damon hastily exited the bathroom and left Bonnie alone, knees slightly wobbly. She gulped, her mouth feeling dry.
With a clean pair of clothes, Bonnie left her hair damp and cautiously joined Damon in the living room. He had removed the t-shirt which he had on due to the soaking wet hug moments earlier. He brandished a white tank top instead. Bonnie sat herself at one end of the couch. He was at the other.
"I'm sorry, Damon-''
"Stop," he interrupted. "Enough with your apologies. I'm the idiot that needs to apologize for once."
Bonnie smiled, cocking her head with amusement. Damon shifted uneasily.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"It's funny. You look Damon Salvatore, but you don't sound like him. Did you bump your head or something?"
"Cut it out, Bon," he scoffed. "I'm actually trying to be a grown up here and you're making fun of me!"
"Okay, okay. My bad. Continue, please."
"I said some horrible things. I said things I should have never said," he sighed.
"You've really been beating yourself up about this, haven't you?" she asked, voice soft. She could see the conflict in his stormy eyes.
"Of course I have. Hours here feel like an eternity…"
"What did you do when I was gone?"
"Naturally I took a bottle of bourbon with me and set off to get shit-faced," he said, shoulders dropping. "I can tell you that plan didn't work out."
"So what happened then?"
"Well, Bon. I took a metaphorical look at the man in the mirror. It wasn't a pretty sight."
"Listen, Damon," she pacified. "We both flew off the hinges. It escalated to a point neither of us had a right to be at."
"Even so, I had no right to put all the blame on you. I just took all my anxiety and dumped it on you. You were sick for God's sake."
"I was sick because I wasn't being true to myself. I hadn't got to the point where I could reconnect with my powers, until now," she smiled.
Damon's eyes widened. "You can do magic now?"
"Not exactly, don't get too excited. I just had a powerful vision after I went to sleep. I can almost feel my power reawakening within me."
"I could tell you had a little color back in your cheeks," he smiled. "That's good to hear, Bon."
"Don't worry, I'm gonna get us the hell out of here soon. I promise."
"That's another thing I wanted to mention," he sighed. "I'm not going to be breathing down your neck every second of the day. It's not going to make things happen any quicker. Take your time."
"Seriously?" she asked, eyebrow raised.
"Hey, like I told you, I had a lot of time to think about this."
"Anything else you want to throw in?" she laughed, playfully tossing a pillow his direction.
Damon turned serious, contemplating his biggest confession yet.
"Damon?" she coaxed, voice concerned. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Yeah. I'm fine. There's just so much I need to say-''
"And a lot of time to do it. Don't sweat it, okay?"
"Okay." Damon studied her face. "What exactly did you do when I was gone?"
"I went for a long run. Rested. Got a protein shake, went to the library, shopping."
"You had a girl's day out after our fight?" he laughed. "Wow."
"What did you think I would do?"
"Honestly, I thought either you would have your bags packed or I was going to!"
"Oh. Is that what you want?" she asked, voice suddenly hurt.
"No, no. That's not what I want. We need to stick together," he said.
"That's what I was going to tell you," she smiled. "It would take twice as long to get out of here if we separated."
"Agreed. Then it's settled, roomie," he winked.
"Also, as far as chores, I kind of want to throw away the whole schedule thing."
Damon looked aghast, leaning forward to lay the back of his hand on her forehead.
"Are you sick again? Did you bump your head?" he joked, eyes glinting.
"Shut up," she laughed, pushing his hand away. "It was causing the majority of our problems. We don't need added tension."
"You're right about that, Bennett."
"That doesn't mean I'm going to live in pig sty either," she warned, finger pointed.
"I hear you," he said, hands up in surrender. "Scouts honor I'll do my best."
"You aren't a scout."
"Fine. Vampires honor."
"Deal," she grinned.
"Well, now that the heavy stuff is over, are you hungry?"
"Famished."
"All we have is toast and cereal at the moment."
"I'll take it," she shrugged.
Damon prepared them two bowls of Froot Loops and a plate of toast. Bonnie brewed the coffee and retrieved jam from the fridge. They sat at the dining table silently eating.
"You probably want to hit the hay early tonight, huh?" he asked, mouth full.
"Yes," she nodded. "This was far enough excitement for one day."
"What do you want to do tomorrow?"
"Who knows," she laughed. "It's never a dull moment with you. I won't worry too much."
Bonnie felt eyes heavily laying on her, and turned to meet his gaze. Damon was a second quicker and looked away, gazing out the kitchen window. She shook her head, crunching colorful loops with her spoon.
"Next time I hope you give me a fair warning before you use my bathtub. That could have gone all sorts of wrong."
"No kidding?" she huffed, smacking him in the arm.
Damon grinned widely. He held the smile so long his cheeks hurt.
…
Day Seven
"How can someone cheat at Candy Land?" Bonnie remarked, snatching the board game off the floor. Damon bellowed with laughter.
"I swear I didn't cheat! I'm sorry to break it to you but you suck at this game."
"Fine, we'll play Scrabble next time. Or is that too intellectual for you?" Bonnie stuck her tongue out and smiled.
Ever since their conversation the night before, things had considerably cooled off between the pair. The tension that was there before was lifted and they hadn't raised their voices all afternoon. Evening was beginning to fall onto the Salvatore Boarding House and the witch was growing hungry.
"When are we going to eat?" she asked, placing the game in a cupboard. "Should we try our hand at something new or break out the pizza rolls?"
Damon didn't answer right away, his hand finding its way to his hair. He looked around the room with a distracted expression.
"Damon? Did you hear me?"
"Yeah. Mhm," he nodded. "I was just sort of thinking of something. Well, I mean I thought of something, earlier today."
"What's with the cloak and dagger?" she teased, arms crossed. "What do you want to do?"
"I'm not gonna tell you," he smirked. "It's a surprise."
"A surprise?"
"Did I stutter?"
"Damon you know I hate surprises!"
"This one will be good. Give me a chance."
Bonnie furrowed her brow, her foot nervously tapping.
"Alright, I'll give you a chance. This is freaking me out."
"Don't be freaked out Witchy, this is supposed to be fun. Are you familiar with fun?" he gleamed, standing to put his hands in his pockets.
"I suppose," she grumbled.
"Great. All you need to do is go upstairs and get ready," he announced, turning her shoulders in the direction of the stairs. He gave her a gentle shove.
"What? Get ready? Like change my clothes and stuff?"
"Sure. Brush you hair. Do your make-up. Do whatever you women like to do."
"Damon!" she screeched, craning her neck to see him. "You're not taking me on a date are you?"
"God no, are you crazy?" he laughed. "Just be quiet and go get ready."
Before she could protest further, Damon opened the door to the bedroom and shuffled her inside.
"Come downstairs when you're done."
He shut the door as Bonnies face drained of color.
…
Damon checked the clock and noticed nearly an hour had passed since he left a bewildered Bonnie Bennett in her bedroom. He took a swig of something at the bar, wondering just how long she would make him wait.
"I feel like I'm over-dressed!" a voice called. "I wish you would tell me what's going on!"
"Why don't you come down here and I'll tell you?"
"Fine. I'm coming. I swear to God Damon, if you laugh I will stay in my room for the rest of the night!"
"Okay, okay. Let's see it."
He could hear Bonnie clearing her throat. Her bedroom door clicked. Damon could sense her heart rate was slightly elevated. The scent of vanilla wafted down the hall. Before he could picture any image in his mind, the witch stood at the top of the stairs. She stared down at him, awkwardly clasping her hands behind her back. Damon raised a brow at her appearance. Bonnie had decided to wear a brightly colored red dress with thin straps paired with sandals. Her neck adorned a beaded choker. Her usually straight hair was styled with loose beach waves.
"You're looking at me weird," she called. "Should I change into something else?"
"No," came his overly quick response. He shook his head as if to shake his thoughts away. "It's just- different seeing you in a dress and not jeans or sweatpants."
"I bet," she laughed. "I have a wide range of style you haven't seen. This is one of them."
"It looks nice." Damon sent her an encouraging smile.
"You don't look too shabby either."
Bonnie slowly descended the staircase, appraising the vampire before her. Damon had on a baby blue, long sleeve button-up shirt and dark wash jeans. Black dress shoes were his choice of footwear.
Finally the odd couple were face to face. In closer proximity, Bonnie found herself examining strands of his blue-black raven hair. Eyes wandering from his collarbone and downward, the buttons fastening his shirt together had a pearlescent glow. She inhaled, causing scents such as mint and pine to mingle, coming together as one to delight her nose.
She almost didn't have the courage to meet Damon's speculative eyes, who by her regard, were stripping her apart.
"What are you looking at?" she demanded, her voice coming off shaky rather than stable. "You're making me nervous."
Damon wanted to shrug and deny he saw anything at all, but that somehow wasn't the case. Strangely, he was closely inspecting the colors cascading through her hair. At first glance it appeared to be a flat brown color. But inside the brown were red, and gold. Her cheeks were brushed with deep rouge and her lips were glossy. Damon didn't understand why he was so fascinated with the witch. Yet another item to add to his list of anxieties.
"Nothing, don't worry about it," he sputtered, taking her by the arm and guiding her to the door.
"Uh huh, right," she snorted.
The clock struck eight as Damon laid a hand on the front door.
"Are you ready to see the surprise or not? Close your eyes."
"Damon, this is ridiculous. Is it a new car?"
"Do you wanna hurt my feelings?"
Bonnie rolled her eyes with annoyance as she clasped her hands over her face to block her vision.
She heard the doorknob twist and click, the door opening for the night air to ruffle her dress.
"Okay. Take a look," he said.
Bonnie lowered her hands and let out a gasp. A large quilt lay out on the grass. On top of the quilt was a spread of food. Finger sandwiches, salads, a cake. A lantern sat glowing in the middle of the display.
"We're having a picnic on the front lawn?"
"It's corny, right?" he scoffed, tugging at his shirt collar. "While you were doing a crossword puzzle today, I picked all this out at the grocery store. If I'm correct, I'm pretty sure you like corny stuff like this."
Bonnie hit him on the shoulder, grinning.
"I do! I really do. This is fantastically so un-Damon of you."
"I have been known to have my moments," he smirked. "I think this should last me a hundred years or so."
"What's the occasion, might I ask?" she smiled, dropping to her knees on the quilt. Bonnie didn't hesitate to grab a plate and utensils and dive into the potato salad.
Damon twitched. "Just trying to be a good roomie. Want some wine?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.
"Sure. Pour yourself a glass as well. Maybe I'll get the truth out of you with a little liquid courage," she winked.
Damon uneasily nodded, but obliged nonetheless. Popping a cork from a bottle that was so old its label was worn away, he poured them a hefty amount of red wine.
Four drinks later, the sandwiches had been all but devoured. Most the salads had been picked over, and the couple was digging into the chocolate layer cake. A soft melody played from the stereo positioned by a nearby tree.
Bonnie stifled a hiccup, giggling as she stuffed a forkful of the dessert between her lips.
"I can honestly say this is the most fun I've had in a long time. Thank you."
Damon was nowhere near an inkling of being buzzed, and smirked at his friends' demeanor.
"You're welcome. I'm glad you're having a good time."
Bonnie snatched the wine bottle that was nestled next to his side, and topped off her glass.
"Wow, this stuff is nice. Smooth as butter. I hope we have a few more bottles of this somewhere."
"Not that one in particular, but several others."
"Yay," she chimed, raising her glass. "Here's to making death as good as life."
Damon's expression became downcast unknown to Bonnie who was now rising to her feet and stretching.
"I don't recognize this song," she mumbled, swaying to and fro, occasionally bringing her glass to her mouth.
Damon sat there, mesmerized once more at the electricity she generated. It was nearly impossible to tear his eyes from her.
Bonnie grinned almost as if someone had whispered a secret in her ear and looked toward the vampire on the ground. She held out her hand.
"Dance with me."
Damon looked behind him as if she were addressing another man. Looking back, his chest tightened at the sight of her outstretched hand awaiting an answer.
"I know you're a little tipsy right now so I won't hold it against you, but really Bon? I don't dance."
"Liar. I know you dance," she smiled, fingers wiggling. "You're too old to not know how."
"Gee, thanks," he pouted.
"If you dance with me I'll do a favor for you. Anything you want- within reason."
Damon pondered the proposal and nodded.
"You can do the housework for a week, then. I hate that stuff."
"Easy," she agreed, eyes twinkling. "Now dance."
"Damn, I should I have thought of something trickier…"
"Damon."
"Alright, alright. Sheesh."
Grudgingly, the vampire surrendered his hand as Bonnie pulled him to his feet. With her wine glass in her left, she wrapped that arm to rest around his shoulder. The other grasped his hand and intertwined their fingers.
"See? This isn't so bad," she laughed, lightly rocking back and forth, their feet working together to turn them in a circle.
"If our friends saw us doing this they would think we're off our rocker," he whispered, head turning away to avoid her gaze.
"It's really not a big deal. This is what normal people do. Don't you want to feel normal for a minute?"
"You have no idea," he replied, subconsciously tightening his grip on her waist.
She laughed again, oblivious to his internal conflict. She rested her forehead on his shoulder. Damon slightly recoiled at the contact.
"I know you said this wasn't a date, but this is better than any date I've ever been on."
Damon could feel her breath puffing against the fabric of his shirt.
"That's because we actually know each other. Also, I'm not trying to get into your pants."
"I appreciate that," she chuckled, lifting up her head.
The magnetic pull of her eyes was too much, and Damon had no choice but to stare right into them.
They were chocolate, and melting. The little creases in the corners told him that she wasn't just smiling with her mouth, her whole face was happy. His stomach turned at the thought of ever making her upset again.
"You look sad," she remarked, the dancing slowly to a stop. Her hand remained in his. "What's wrong, Damon? Why are we really out here?"
Once again, the witch could see through him like he was a sheet of paper. Damon took an abnormally long breath.
"I want to tell you why I think we're stuck in my personal hell. I want to tell you what May 10th, 1994 means to me."
"You had to put together a picnic to do that?" she baffled, eyebrow raised.
"This isn't funny, Bonnie," he frowned, unwinding their fingers and pulling away. The absence of her body heat made him shiver.
"I don't think it's funny," she said, sitting her glass down. "I'm confused."
"I wanted to do something nice for you because after I tell you, you'll probably want nothing to do with me. Ever."
Damon's words hit her like a ton of bricks.
"That's not fair," she replied, voice rising. "You don't get to decide that. I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions. Why didn't you just tell me that was on your mind?"
"It's not something that just rolls off the tongue," he mumbled. Damon wracked his hands through his hair until it stood up on end.
"We were having fun, Damon." Her voice had gone soft. "I don't think that's something we need to discuss right now."
"It's not something we need to discuss?" he yelled, eyes wild. "Haven't you been badgering me about that ever since we got to this place?"
"It's important, I won't deny that," she nodded, unfazed by his tone. "However, I know that it won't change how I feel about you."
"How can you say that, Bonnie?" his voice now rising several notches. "You're living under the same roof as me and you don't want to know what I've done?"
"You're Damon Salvatore," she said, arms crossed. "Your past isn't picture perfect, I know that."
Damon let out a low snarl of frustration and flew towards her, taking her shoulders in his hands.
"I've killed people, Bonnie. A lot of people." His voice was low, and dark. She stared him square in the eye.
"If you're trying to scare me it isn't working. If you're trying to tell me you're a murderer, then don't waste your breath. I know that."
"Bonnie, I'm a monster…"
"Monsters don't feel remorse, Damon," she soothed, breaking his grip on her and placing her hands on his cheeks. "You can tell me whatever confession you have another day. The fact that it's eating you alive is enough for me."
Damon's mouth hung open, a dumfounded expression on his face. Bonnie sent him a sad smile and gathered him in for hug. His body grew rigid as her hands snaked their way into his hair, the same affection he had showed her when he recovered her in his bath tub.
"You're cursed, Damon. You're a vampire. You will spend the rest of your life making up for what comes along with that. The Damon that you were decades ago isn't the man you are now. All you can do is be better every day."
His body went limp at her words, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
"What if I can't?" he whispered, more to himself than to her.
"The fact that we're hugging on top of a picnic blanket says otherwise," she quietly laughed, releasing him. "I believe in you, Damon. You just gotta believe in yourself."
He was silent. The wind whipped the edges of the quilt and the oil in the lantern was beginning to run low.
"Thanks, Dr. Phil," he smiled, straightening his posture.
"Any time," she nodded. Bonnie took the lull in conversation to scoop up her forgotten wine glass and finish the remaining contents. "Should we call it a night and go inside?"
Damon thought carefully before giving her an answer. His eyes went skyward, observing the stars. Here lately he was preferring to look out to escape the chaos within.
"Maybe in a minute. I haven't star-gazed in a century or so."
"Damon Salvatore star-gazes?" she quipped, pushing food and the candelabra off the quilt.
"Hey, why is Stefan the only brother allowed to be sensitive?"
"You're right, I'm sorry," she said, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
With the Technicolor quilt bare, the two of them took a seat. Bonnie, not missing a beat, laid back and clasped her hands on her stomach. Damon saw her demonstrations and followed.
"How is it even possible to have stars in the Other Side?" she questioned.
"Or a sun or a moon," he added.
"Are you saying there's some wacky kind of solar system, or something?"
"We're dead in an empty town in 1994, Bon," he shrugged. "Anything is possible."
Bonnie accepted that as the most logical answer. The witch and the vampire laid there for what seemed like hours until Bonnie relaxed and laid her hands out at her sides. Damon's irises flicked toward the movement and then began to lazily inspect the dips and curves of her fingers, the smoothness of her skin. Without thinking, his digits moved on their own accord, fingertips navigating their way on top of hers. Their hands now lay in the center of the quilt between their bodies, chaining them together, like an anchor holding them steady.
"Are you scared?" she spoke barely above a whisper.
Without hesitation he answered, "Not anymore."