This chapter is dedicated to TheWunzelx3/dobsleysbamon for making the most beautiful trailer ever for Dormiente. Thank you honey.
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In the eyes of someone who actually got to live the twenties, all this is not even a pale shadow of how raw and fascinating that time was, but he's not going to complain. That would not be a worthy activity considering he knows you never gain anything from doing that. Furthermore, he likes the here and now.
Bonnie is with him now.
"What's your plan now?" she asks him in that businesslike voice of hers which spurs his imagination almost as fast as his blood. It's not his fault that he finds something very sexy about Bonnie Bennett and dominance.
"The next part, I don't know if you can handle it," he says looking perplexed over the dance floor.
"What?" she bursts, insulted, caring to lower her voice only when Damon's signals her to once spotting a girl turn around.
"You brought me here because you need my help, and I'm perfectly capable to do whatever it is that needs to be done. So I'm not going to let you brush me aside just because you're too comfortable and used to the spineless women you like so much to surrender yourself with," her voice is harsh and her eyes burn with righteous indignation.
She's all fire and passion, and Damon must keep himself from licking his lips in anticipation. Or better yet, lick hers.
He turns towards her, looking at her straight in the eyes, like he's trying to measure her value, to understand if what she just told him is true. The color of his piercing iris eyes is something she can't get used to.
"You sure?" he asks, giving her one last chance to back out.
"I am."
"You need to… have fun," he spells the last two words like some sort of deadly menace, leaving her dumbstruck for a moment.
"I should have kn-"
"We need to look like we have not a care in the world," he explains before she can launch herself into a full session of insults centered on his maturity, or lack thereof, "Harmless and unsuspicious. Just like we know nothing about what's their plan for tonight."
"I know nothing about their plan for tonight. In fact I don't even know who they are!" she answers, exasperated. She hates to be in the dark. She hates to not be in control.
"Good. That's the spirit!" he nods, grinning, "I knew you were the one for the job."
Bonnie is about to give him a piece of her mind but as soon as her lips move he takes her hand and drags her to the dance floor. There's no time to tell him she'd rather die than being in close proximity with him before she's up, high two feet above the floor, with his hands tight around her waist. It's almost this overwhelming feeling of sudden freedom, the sense of lightness filling her chest as her body goes high, and she overtops among the crowd.
Her thighs brush against the length of Damon's body as he brings her back down to Earth. She realizes that there's something inside of her longing that instant feverish abandonment. It's like opening her eyes to a place within her that was long forgotten. And so what does it matter if this mute part of her soul gets its voice back when she's with Damon of all people? She likes this too much to worry over a coincidence.
He spins her around, her pearls necklace cuts the air as she moves and colors blur in her vision.
Damon pulls her back by the hand and she senses an unknown sensation of tension enveloping them both as the space between them closes up. It must be the suggestive sound of the trumpet, the catchy beat of the music. She feels good. So much that she can even overlook the fact that she's feeling good with Damon. Which is against her moral code, and probably the Ten Commandments too.
His way of leading, her way of being led, works together like magnetism; it's a push and pull born from instinct, but as the rhythm changes, this concept stops being ironical to become simply inevitable.
There's a dare in his blue eyes, in the irreverent way his mouth curves and she cannot back down from a challenge. It bothers her how intimate his hand feels on her back, how he's leading with confidence, and the way he can make up for her inexperience with such an old-fashioned, yet intriguing, dance style.
"Nervous?" he asks her, when she avoids his gaze.
"Bored," she declares with as much indifference as she can master to cover up the tension she feels.
"Really?" he asks, faking a genuine state of puzzlement, "That's quite strange. The waltz was very risqué in the twenties," he explains, "it was the first time the partners held each other," he adds slightly tightening his hold and taking a spin with her.
She pushes herself to converse with him merely to regain the control that seems to slip from her hands every time she thinks she's got it. She swears it's like he's doing it on purpose. Considering it is Damon he's surely doing it on purpose.
"What about the Charleston then?"
"Oh, that was dangerously corrupt," he says leaning towards her to look in her eyes and make an outraged, funny face, "Just what was good to shake things up a bit."
She almost expects him to change the rhythm of their dancing to make a point but he just keeps on waltzing gently with her. That's why she can't understand why all of a sudden she can see what's so risqué about this.
"I'm sure you shaken them up plenty," she murmurs to herself.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he says with a shameless grin she can't see, "I guess when you can't have what you need, you start to need what you can have," he adds in a murmur, like he's talking to himself.
He remembers that time pretty well, because it was just the same as always, him drinking and breaking his way out of pain he carried with him like a family heirloom. He missed Stefan, and he missed Katherine, and most of all he missed himself as he partied with what was left of him.
Bonnie feels uncomfortable now, like he's too close. Like he's all over her and clothes are not a good enough barrier. She looks over his shoulder to distance herself from this as they dance – whatever this is – and she sees Elena, all fair and delicate in her white dress, warm eyes looking up at Stefan, oblivious to the rest of the world.
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The worst thing about school dances is the fact that you can't find alcohol unless you search for them on the dumbest representative of an average teen. Which he won't do because he'd like to put his hands on someone better shaped. Like Bonnie.
"So, how is it going?" his brother asks, walking up to him at the drinks table.
"In a terribly sober way," Damon answers grimacing.
"I figured you would have brought a hip flask," Stefan comments pouring a pink colored drink for Elena.
"That's already dry," he says, "How about you and the never-vampire doppelganger?"
"Love takes time and care," Stefan answers cryptically turning to look at Elena chatting with Caroline.
Damon rolls his eyes at his molasses but damn if he isn't right.
"Time, mostly," he says turning and looking towards Bonnie dancing with Matt, as he stands shoulder to shoulder with his brother. He's so eager to hold her, murmur against her ear, be inside her. Haveherhaveherhaveher. And he can't. Go figure.
"I suppose this is the moment I say… I'm sorry for going after your girlfriends." Damon says.
"No, you're not," Stefan says, as they both keep on looking in different directions.
"No, I'm not," Damon admits lightly.
"It's okay."
It's so like his little brother to say something like that. He gives him hell for a century or two and in the end it's okay.
He meets Bonnie's eyes over Matt's shoulder and he can feel a natural, spontaneous pull towards her. He's tempted to step in even if he just left her.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to come to this."
This: Bonnie, a clean shot at love, a future that's worth fighting for, the truth about us. Just this.
Stefan turns his head towards him, catching his brother profile.
"Yeah, you are."
Damon grins turning towards him, "Yeah, I am."
But when he turns again to look at Bonnie he sees her eyes grow a bit wider and her mouth curve into a pleased smile. Her eyes are on the clumsy boy putting his weight on one foot then the other, standing on the side of the dance floor and smiling to her.
Bonnie says something to Matt, kisses his cheek and then walks up to Jamie.
"I know you said you had things to take care of tonight, but I thought in between those things I could steal you a dance, or maybe offer my help for whatever you need," he explains once she's in front of him.
"Thanks Jamie, that's sweet of you."
Her smile is flirty, like she's gratified for his attention, and it makes Damon's blood boil because she should not be flirting with him. Most of all, she should not think that all she should settle for is a stupid, incompetent boy she's kind of related to. She can have so much more.
When he sees her taking his hand to be led on the dance floor he wants to go and stop her, maybe break the boy's neck, but Stefan's firm hands on his shoulder stops him.
"Control yourself," he says between his teeth.
"Sure! I'd like to see you in my place, with someone trying to steal your girl away from-"
Stefan's sharp look and the realization of what he's actually saying hits him and he closes his mouth.
"Well, then you know how I feel," Damon insists.
"That's why I'm telling you to control yourself. She won't like it if you kill him or make a scene, so don't give her any more reasons to distrust you."
"Fine," he concedes, but it takes all his restraint not to go there and do what his hands itch to do. He's utterly bothered when he answers his phone to hear Alaric's voice on the other side.
The tense tone in his voice as he says his name is a slap in Damon's face, and he lowers his phone on his side as he tells Stefan that "It's Rick."
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A petty part of him wants to look at the bright side: he now has a good reason to take Bonnie away from Jamie. The other part is sinking in sorrow by the idea of losing Rick again, by the idea of that chain reaction that it is going to activate.
By the idea of losing Bonnie again, even if he never actually had her, and this time forever.
"Sorry to interrupt," he says with a sarcastic tone, "But we have a problem. And it's time for children to go to bed and leave things to the grown up," he adds looking down at Jamie like he's an insect on the windshield of his new car.
"And you're including yourself in the grown up list? Really?" Bonnie asks, in the same way.
Oh the things about him that are grown and up. But he suspects she doesn't need to know that right now.
"Goodbye Jerry," he says looking at Bonnie and ignoring the guy.
"His name is-"
"Don't care," he interrupts her. He takes her hand dragging her away with more gentleness that the dragging usually requires.
"Let go of my hand," she growls pulling her hand away.
Damon stops, turning towards her almost spitting his "Fine", then he places his hand in the middle of her back and walks next to her, somehow shielding her from the dancing crowd using his other arm.
Bonnie bites the inside of her mouth trying to not let their proximity affect her. This close she can guess the hardness of his deltoids, of his biceps and pectorals like he's one of those plastic anatomical models the professor uses during biology class.
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"If you want to help your friend Alaric I suggest you come with me," Esther says, but when she makes her brilliant suggestion Stefan is there to minimize any damage.
"Look at me," he says using his hands to gently turn her face.
"Just look at me, don't listen to her."
"But Alaric-"
It's hard to explain something so difficult, so inacceptable when there's nothing you can say.
"I know, but you need to trust me. Can you do that?"
Elena is panicking. Torn between her first instinct and Stefan. She wants to do what she thinks is right, and yet there's nothing more right in her life or in her heart then Stefan.
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Bonnie plays with the orchid in her hands before putting it back in her hair, under Damon's stare.
"Are we done now?" she asks him.
He doesn't really have an answer, he fears they are done now, irrevocably so, when just a few minutes before he thought they were at the very beginning.
Imagine a world without me - say you're falling apart
Let's pretend you've missed me for a while
"So eager to go back to make out with Jerry-boy?" he asks, trying to keep at bay his resentment.
"We were just dancing," she says, grimacing, "And it' none of your business."
That's true, isn't it? It's not his business and they weren't making out, yet, but he remembers that boy's hands around her and his legs between hers and it hits a nerve.
"Right. It would be really terrible if someone told you the truth right in your face," he says, bitter.
"Yes, because you have such a love for the truth."
"I just decided to practice, but I suppose that such an outstanding and righteous person as you will never fear truth, right?"
Wouldn't you say you were lonely and love was breaking your heart?
Put on your Sunday best and fake a smile
"I will not stay here to listen to your nonsense," she replies turning around only to find him in front of her, yet again.
"Oh no, sweet bird. I listened to your endless reproaches – God only knows why – and you're going to listen to me for once. Because I know you're not dying to hear it out loud but the bitter truth you're running from is that that boy out there is nothing to you. You are so desperate for a family that you'll get your stupid step-brother in your life any way you can, just to tell yourself you are not alone. You're going to waste your time and your hopes on an illusion because you're too scared to-"
"You think you know me or what this is?" she asks, wishing he will just shut up and show some doubt on his face so that she can tell herself he's wrong. But he doesn't.
"I'm a master in the field," both fields, her and going after illusions, "Do you even know what's real?"
"I'm out of here," she says, walking past him, but Damon just takes Bonnie by the arm and turns her around, slipping one hand behind her head and kissing her, hard. He forces her mouth open using his lips and he holds her high against him so that her feet don't touch the floor.
I dream of dreaming dreams of her - in twilight she's a constant blur
The picture is clear and I'm still fact she's fiction
Bonnie feels shocked, warm and mad. Mad that her body's reaction is so fast, so powerful that a part of her is glad she's not quite standing because her knees wouldn't hold her up. Yet she's not going to be something he needs just because he thinks he can have her. And she's not going to be the one losing this sick game of his. So she bites on his lip and pushes him away, just enough that she can slap him with all she has.
After that is all silent tension, burning eyes and hard breathing.
Bonnie turns on her heels, feeling a bit weak and concupiscent, and most of all angry. There's something she knows about Damon, and that's that she's not able to feel nothing towards him. So if there's a feeling she can allow herself to feel, it is hate. That's all.
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When Jamie lies on her bed she's tempted to kiss him again, let his hands wander on her body until he can touch places within her that awoke without her permission.
But she's lying in his arms, feeling guilty as her lips still tingle and burn because of a kiss she wishes to erase from her memory. She's almost surprised all her thinking doesn't keep Jamie awake but she's relieved she can be alone with this little, dirty secret.
Remember the night you were with me - fell asleep by my side
Strangers together - your hand in mine
She liked Damon's kiss. It's not something about the skill or the force because it was rushed and hard, and he probably can do a lot better with a willing participant. It's just that the touch of his lips, of his tongue, sent a shiver through her that moved her to the core. And her heartbeat becomes so wild just thinking about it that it physically hurts.
And then his words repeat themselves in her head; all that talking about what you need and what you can have. Even if she knows what happened is just a twisted extension of their fights and it has nothing to do with genuine feelings, she's stuck on it.
She won't let him use her just because, apparently, Elena picked Stefan. She won't let him use her because he wants her to be as miserable as he feels. She won't let him use her, just to realize she likes it.
How come we never came closer when all the stars were aligned?
I thought we had a moment
She feels alive and aroused and thrilled and ashamed all at once and she cannot bear it.
When the voices in her head start, she raises her gaze on the figure in her bedroom.
She sits slowly and looks at Esther.
She should be scared of her presence, but she somehow knew it, didn't she? She should be worried about her words and what they imply but she expected them somehow, right? Because Damon asked her to trust him just once, just this once, and she couldn't help it.
And so despite how terrible all this is, what this all really means is that Damon looked at her straight in the eyes and told her the truth.
I dream of dreaming dreams of her - in twilight she's a constant blur
The picture is clear and I'm still fact she's fiction
I seem to miss the missing part, she's still my favorite work of art
The picture is clear and I'm still fact she's fiction
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Alaric slipped away quietly and now there's just him and the full moon. This night should have been a new chance at this friendship, a fresh start with Bonnie, and now everything is fucked up and he is alone once again.
How many ways can you spell pathetic?
When he takes his eyes off the moon and lowers his gaze he sees her. There's a weight on his chest and his useless heart is about to break in two when he realizes something's off.
She's not looking as set as before, and she's wearing shoes. This detail just confuses him and calms him down at the same time. And anyway, what can she do now that he's gone?
Bonnie walks ahead and past him and he follows her inside. She lowers her head, surrendering to this new loss.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, wary.
"Esther paid me a visit," she informs him "I thought it was better to keep up the show so she wouldn't suspect anything. The spell I performed before worked."
The jewel on her orchid absorbed the darkness of Esther orders becoming black and leaving her will free and untouched.
"Great," he says with no enthusiasm watching Rick's body in the place he left him.
"You can go now," he tells her starkly, after a minute of silence. But she doesn't move.
"What?" he asks harshly when she looks at him.
"I could stay," she says, "He was your friend," she adds weakly.
"So I'm your charity case of the week now?" He retorted. He's angry at fate, at Rick for dying, at himself, but not at her. And yet she so convenient to lash out to. Mostly because she doesn't care about him that much so whatever he says can't touch her, so why not?
How long should I wait before I let you go?
How long should I decide?
Whose side should I take when both of us were wrong?
When we both share the blame
"It was a bad idea," she says turning to leave, but he stops her by the shoulders "Don't," and even if he can see the tension building up in the muscles of her shoulders and back, she doesn't move.
"If you have nothing better to do, I wouldn't mind some company," he admits, "Tomorrow you can go back at hating me and not wanting me around all you want," he murmurs in a voice so low that she's not sure she heard it.
She turns her head to see his fingers on her bare shoulders. And she nods turning towards him.
They spend the night sitting on the grass next to each other, with their back to the rock wall, shoulder to shoulder. The rational side of her can't move her from there, can't tear her away from him. Not now. Not when he tried and failed to save his best friend, not when the girl he loves chose someone else over him. Not when he told her the truth.
The air is cold and it smells like moss and goodbye. She does her best to ignore the shivers that try to shake her, hugging herself quietly; Damon only spares her a glace before slipping his jacket over her shoulders and go back to blankly stare ahead of him.
Bonnie holds it with both hands trying to not pay attention to Damon smell all over the fabric.
"You tried," she says, breaking the silence. Hoping her words won't end up just spurring his hatred.
"It wasn't enough," he answers. It's a painful admission for someone who is never enough for anybody, but she cannot mention that now.
"Sometimes there's nothing you can do," she says, "Sometimes you just have to let go."
And he feels like she's sealing every hope with a few words. Like the whole universe is screaming him to let go of her now.
Even still, even now
Even though we fell apart
Even still, even now
And I hope we'll meet again
"I don't think I can do that," he says.
"That's okay. Time does that for you."
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Note: the songs used for this chapter are "Fact-Fiction" by Mads Langer and "Even now" by William Fitzsimmons.