Damon turns his head looking over his shoulder at the trio sitting at the table and playing cards. Elena is protesting because Stefan can always tell when she's bluffing and even if he let it slip half the time, Bonnie can recognize the soft look he sends her way when her inability to deliver the part makes her endearing in his eyes and so somehow she always ends up leaving the cards on the table.
Elena sounds like an innocent, happy child when she whines on purpose because she's losing. Stefan is all bright eyed now that everything seems quiet.
And Bonnie has a smile that could make people blind. Damon never knew she could smile like that.
Never knew he could feel bad stealing glances her way either, since he did things way worse than this.
Stefan fixed his eyes on his when he suggested he and Elena needed to come more often to distract Bonnie, and he waited for a moment, probably to ask him why all of a sudden he was eager to play the gracious host since he was never a fan of big reunions, but he just said "Sure," and from then it's been days and they are both in the boarding house every night, and Stefan himself spend half the day with them.
Damon is blunt and shameless, but to confess his dear brother he doesn't want to be alone with Bonnie would sound ridiculous. He would probably laugh in his face, and he'd have any reason to.
If Stefan guessed what was happening in his mind – or in the lowest region of his anatomy - at the moment, he was merciful enough to give him a free pass.
All the mistrust he gets from people is nothing serious since right now he can't trust himself to be alone with her.
It's not that he's suddenly whipped or anything. He loves Elena, he'll always love Elena. It's just that he woke up one morning to find himself with a Bonnie he never knew before; one that calls his gaze whenever she's around, whenever she bites her lower lip between her perfect teeth as she concentrates on something. One he's not prepared for, yet.
He's a man and there's only so much platonic he can do before throwing scruples away. But she's not some girl he picked up at the bar. He can't play her, nor does he want to.
He won't fuck it up. No fucking of any sort will be involved here, period.
So the point is that he is a man, and he has needs, and she's attractive and there's no need to make a mess out of a situation if it was already quite a catastrophe to start with.
And if Stefan and Elena are around he will not have a chance to screw it. Screw anything at all, really.
Well, there's even the fact that Bonnie is the only female in Mystic Falls population that was never tricked by his charms too, but he's not trying to split hairs here.
His brother and Elena will be around some more, he won't have deliciously dirty thoughts about Bonnie anymore and everything will go back in place.
It's a lot easier to feel more like his usual self when Elena is around. He can look at her and feel all the strength of his purposes coming back to him.
And if he turns around to steal a glance at Bonnie when she laughs it's only because he's not used to that sound. Because she was never like this with him, and he needs to know more about her if he wants to help her out, that's it.
Damon turns his head again; Elena is the picture of loveliness itself even when she pouts, maybe more when she does. He will never get tired of fighting for her.
Bonnie is shaking her head. Her posture give away tiredness, her full lips are curved up even if he can catch a hint of melancholy in her eyes.
He thinks even sadness makes her beautiful, and for a moment he forgets there is anyone else in the room but her.
#
Damon's eyes are closed, his head is resting against the head of his armchair and his index finger is purposely tangled with the black cable of the big earphones.
He opens his eyes and sighs when the music stops coming from the earphones and resounds in the whole room.
Luciano Pavarotti invades the atmosphere with his deep, clear, tenor voice and Bonnie – cable in hand – presses her lips together with a perplexed expression and looks at him like she can't understand what she caught him doing.
Right now little bird is just too endearing, and Bonnie is too private, and witch is too distant, and he's at loss even with such a simple task as choosing how to address her. God, she's such a pain in the ass.
"Judgy," he greets her; "Did you miss me?"
She ignores the question. He didn't expect anything different.
"What are you listening?" she asks, genuinely curious.
He wants to ask her if she really cares to know or if she only wants to bother him; or if she's here because he knows while Stefan and Elena don't, and she needs to be with someone who can look her in the eyes and don't see the horrible things that she did and that now keep her awake at night; but he answers her question instead of voicing his own.
"It's a Romanza called a furtive Tear. It's taken from Act II of the Italian opera L'Elisir d'Amore."
Bonnie sits opposite to him, all put, eyes lost on the floor as she listens intently.
It would be too easy to give in to the temptation of looking at her and Oscar Wilde once said that the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it, so Damon leans on the side and his cheek rests against his closed fist and just stares openly.
Shamelessly.
After all, he was never big on shame, what's the point in starting now? He's just curious about her, the same way she is about this Romanza.
"He's happy," he explains, making her gaze at him, "He's madly happy because there's one single, furtive tear in the eyes of the maiden he loves and it's for him. That's how he knows she loves him back."
She bats her lashes, taking in the story.
"Did he have any reason to doubt it?"
"Any reason in the world," he says with a grin, "She never showed any interest in him or the love he had to offer."
"What changed her mind?" she asks, eager to know.
"He thinks a love potion he brought did. He was so in love with her that he did not care where that love came from. But the potion was nothing more than a cheap red wine sold by a traveling con man, and she truly loved him."
He props his elbows on his knees and raises a finger to stop any question as he listens and translates the words for her.
"What more need I look for? She loves me. Yes, she loves me, I see it. I see it. Just for an instant the beating of her beautiful heart I felt…"
And then they both are silent again, listening as the man, bursting with joy, cherishes the sight of one tear, and the sound of her sigh. They both listen silently until the music ends.
"I never imagined you could like something like this," she says, with a sheepish look.
"Oh, so you imagined me," he says, the insinuation sounds very clear as he speaks "Was I dressed when you imagined me?"
He knows what button to push; he knows she won't fall for his act. This is familiar territory for both of them.
She rolls her eyes, "This room is not big enough for both me and your ego."
"I don't know about my ego but my-"
"Don't!" she stops his words, looking at him all wide eyed and scandalized, "Don't say it."
"I was about to say 'my modesty'" he says, sporting a disappointed expression, "You have such a one track mind!" he accuses her, making such an effort to look innocent that she is tempted to laugh in his face, "Really, I don't know what to do with you anymore. I'm really worried that my nearness is irreparably damaging your ability to resist me. Please try and resist me!"
"Damon," she says, sounding grave, like she is about to say something he needs to listen to. And then a cushion flies in his face.
The cushion falls in his lap and he looks at her with a threatening look which would not scare a child.
"You forced my hand," he says, dramatically "I will have no mercy on you."
"Damon don't be stupid!" she answers trying to sound convinced that he won't dare do anything. But Damon could never pass up a dare. She should know better, she reminds herself.
She gets up from the sofa when she sees him slowly doing the same and then she has no time to run out of the room because he's too fast. Bonnie can see a trail of black before he stops one step away from her because the phone is ringing in his pocket.
"I'll have to put on hold my terrible revenge for a second," he says, taking the phone and Bonnie smiles openly now that he's not looking.
She never knew she could feel so at ease being stuck in a house with Damon Salvatore, so good, but she does. More than that she feels like he understands her to a nonverbal level she didn't know could be shared between two people. Especially if the two people were them.
But her smile falls when he eagerly puts the phone to his ear turning his back on her because "Elena!" is on the phone.
He says her name with all the smoothness he can manage and Bonnie reminds herself that of course he would sound like that with Elena. He loves Elena, and it's not her business that he does.
He probably feels like that man from the romanza, so madly in love that he doesn't care what it takes for her to love him back.
It's nothing new. And she doesn't feel sad, it's just that she will get bored without him and, after all, he's the only one who knows what's really going on with her. Yes, that's the only reason, she reminds herself.
When he looks over his shoulder, just a moment, Bonnie looks distracted and indifferent to his conversation with her friend.
"Yeah, I'll come over, sure."
There are other words but Bonnie doesn't care to listen. She knows the drill; Elena snaps her fingers and Damon runs to her. It should not surprise her, much less upset her.
When he tells her that Elena wants to see him she doesn't give him time to add anything else.
He wants to ask her if she needs him to stay, he wants to tell her that maybe he can make her wait a bit for once, but Bonnie just shrugs and tells him "Sure, you should go," and when she adds "It's okay, I don't need you," even if it is meant to sound like a good news his heart sinks in his chest, just a little bit.
"That's good," he says, nodding.
That's good, he tries to convince himself. It means she's getting better, it means she will be fine soon.
It means she'll go away and that, above all, she does not need him.
"I won't keep you," she says turning her back and heading to her room.
Damon watches her back, the space getting bigger and bigger between them, and the door closing on him.
He does not see the single, furtive tear she doesn't let herself shed.
#
Note: Once again thanks to 1beaut for correcting this chapter.