Perhaps it was thirst. Bonnie waited for the color to return to his eyes and when they didn't, she realized they probably wouldn't. In her fear, she was reminded of everything she felt before he left her alone: she hated him. More importantly, the vacancy in his eyes and the eager saliva spreading between his baring fangs suggested she run like hell.
With her free hand, she shot him a throaty spell and his hold on her loosened just enough. The porch was only a short dash behind her and if she guessed correctly with her fingers crossed, he wouldn't be able to follow her through the front door. So she left him in a temporary cripple and fled.
Inside her Gram's house, she slammed the door and whipped around to stare through the peephole. He was there in an instant, his hunt-mode shoulders filling his black hooded sweatshirt. His brown hair was tousled and his jaw nearly unhinged in apparent desperation.
"Bonnie," he growled, and she felt his voice vibrate the wood of the door, running her through with the familiar fear of Malachai Parker.
Yes, she had missed him. But she saw already that it was only for the sake of missing someone. Now that he was back, she wished he'd leave her alone again. She hated herself for ever thinking his abrasive company would be better than solitude. If only she'd gotten a grip before losing the handle completely.
"Bonnie," he said again, sounding less like a bloodthirsty vampire and more like the regular monster she knew. "Open the door."
Through the peephole, she stared into his demonic eyes, little abysses looking to absorb nothing but her. But he wasn't trying to get in, and that meant she was safe. Anxious as she was for him to go away, she realized how full the hum of his presence had become. She could feel him so strongly and despite the undesirable circumstances it was exhilarating. Just to soak it in, she placed her palms flat against the door on either side of her head, a subtle reaching for his magic. She watched him then place his own hands on the door in the same way and in the same places, mirroring her. If not for the door, they could've been touching.
"I can feel you," he said. Bonnie felt her breath catch in her throat and she pulled her hands away, curling them into her chest. "Please open the door," he went on.
"You're not you," she said.
He looked into the peephole, back at her. She knew he shouldn't be able to see her from his end, but she felt his gaze unquestionably.
"Would you open the door if I was?"
Having seen him this way and come to the understanding that missing him was a weakness of the past, she didn't think she would. But she took too long to answer. He growled her name again, louder, and shoved his hands into the door, clawing the wood into splinters. She backed up at the sound of it cracking, just in time for his second shove to knock the door off its hinges entirely. It fell into the house, swiping pictures off the foyer wall to snap and shatter.
The porchlight behind his figure cast a menacing shadow across the fallen door. He remained still, looking in at her desperately through the scared up dust seeking its settle. Seeing him tore her heart into a panic, as if visibility alone broke the invitation barrier. The end of the hunger faded from his eyes as the blackness left them and the irises returned. There he is.
"You can't come in," Bonnie urged through clenched jaws.
"Fine. I don't want to anyway," he retorted with a hint of his former sass. "I just want to talk to you."
"Now? After all this time?"
"I've been waiting for the right—"
"Where did you go?" she interrupted. "Where have you been?" her voice surprised her by cracking. Her throat was dry. Her eyes were wet.
"It doesn't matter."
"You're right. It doesn't. Because you're going back. I don't want to see you."
"Bonnie…" he pleaded, his voice soft, eyes now sincere. All a ruse, she assumed.
"This is my town. You can have the whole world, I don't care. But you can't have my town. You have to go."
"I know you hate me…"
"Damn right I do."
"But I know you can't live without me."
She narrowed her eyes. "Wow. You're batshit."
"I mean it literally, Bonnie. This might be your town, but it's my hell. You will go through time and all the other motions just as if you're on the outside. You'll get older. You'll get sick. I know what it's like to be stuck by yourself, but you'll be stuck by yourself with the health of a mortal witch. And I'd give you…a year, tops. Need I remind you what happened last time you were stuck alone in a prison world? You'll lose it."
"I already have," she said matter-of-factly and crossed her arms. "And I'm doing just fine."
"Clearly," he said, lifting his eyebrows and glancing at her bloody hand. The glance lingered just long enough for a few capillaries of thirst to busy up underneath his eyes. He closed them quickly to collect himself before continuing.
"Why do you even care?"
Too many seconds passed before he answered, "Because I need you more."
"Ok, goodnight," she dismissed, and began to walk away. "Please be gone in the morning."
"I won't be," he said. "I will stand right here until I get what I want."
"I hope you like standing."
"You're not even gonna ask me what I want? Rude."
She rolled her eyes and went to walk away again.
"Bonnie, please!" he called. "I wanna make a deal with you."
"Oh?" She iced her tone before continuing, "What could you possibly have to offer me? Another stab wound? Another demolished friendship? Well I'm already hurting and I'm already alone. But thanks."
"I can get us back."
She scoffed, "First of all, us? No. Second, I don't believe you."
"Whew," Kai flashed a wide smile, "Good thing, because that was totally an empty statement."
"Are you serious right now?"
"Look, Bonnie. All cards on the table, I really want to hurt you right now because you're being so difficult. But I'm not going to. Promise. So stop kidding yourself because you're not fooling me. You're miserable. And you know what they say about misery, don't you?"
"I will never love your company."
"Not even if I make you brownies? Cook you dinner? Rent a movie, the whole nine? I mean let's face it, we're fucked. Might as well make it count. I'll even try not to talk so much."
Bonnie uncrossed and re-crossed her arms, pumping her hip out to the side and sighing. He was never going away. "And what do you get for being so saintly?"
"Nothing," he swore, with the beginnings of a telltale smirk dragging up the corner of his lips.
"Oh, please. Malachai Parker doesn't do charity." Bonnie freed one of her arms in preparation. "I know you have dirt, don't make me dig…" she growled, extending her arm and twisting her hand, magically making Kai wince and clutch his stomach in what appeared to be excruciating pain. She allowed herself a small, sadistic smile at the sight of him doubling over before releasing him and finishing her sentence, "…it out of you."
Kai breathed and regained his composure, and then his dignity with an impressed chuckle. His eyes flicked up to meet hers. "You're cute when you're feisty."
"What do you want, Kai?" she pressed, washing her face of all expression to let him know she was officially done with his beating around the bush.
His eyes dropped to the ground, smirk following suit. He hesitated for a moment. "It's…complicated. I need…I'm just…so…hungry."
Bonnie narrowed her eyes. "Come again?"
"There are tons of blood bags everywhere you go. They're all refrigerated, relatively in date, you can totally pop them in the microwave to… you know… pretend it's worth it, it's just…so…gross."
"It sounds like you're asking me if you can suck my blood," she said, whipping her attitude back out.
"Would that be weird?"
"No, not at all. I only hate your guts. Why would that stop me from letting you put your constantly moving mouth on me and then break your stupid promise not to hurt me?"
"But on the bright side, would it not make good on the part where I promised to talk less?"
She knew she shouldn't be surprised or offended that he was asking her this favor. She was the one who first laid blood on the table to trick him out of hiding. "You're…ridiculous."
"No," he said in a mildly hurt tone, "I'm lonely. And hangry. And I need to call a truce with you. I need you to do this." He started breathing faster as he rambled, revealing a little more teeth with each word, and it didn't seem like he was intending to. "I need blood." He looked up earnestly from his rant, into her eyes. "I need you."
All this mood gave her pause. She watched him panting at her after pouring his proverbial heart out. It was plain to her that he meant most of the things he was saying. Would turning him away now equal in pain everything he had done to her?
Hardly.
"You're practically drooling over me," she drawled, showing him that she was not intrigued by his attempted pathos.
The beat was instant. He sighed and sharpened up his posture. "It's okay, you can say no. Totally understand."
"What happened to, 'I'm standing here until I get what I want'?"
"Just forget it. It's fine. If you're not into it, you're not into it. Honestly I was getting pretty done with the whole lone wolf thing, and if I could just hang around and annoy you without the hunger, I would. But I can't make it go away and I can't play nice while I'm fucking dying to know how you taste. So, I guess I have to be the one that goes away."
She saw his body language shift. He was getting ready to leave finally.
"Oh, if you need me I'll be international, cold blood's better outsourced for some reason. No guarantees on which country, I have an insatiable lust for entertainment and America's pretty boring without its fucked up nightlife."
He hopped down from her porch and threw her a smile, "Catch ya on the flip, B-side." And with that, he started walking. She knew damn well he was bluffing. He wanted to feed too badly to really leave.
And still…
She felt her body's witchy jubilation fade with his growing distance. It was like a furnace going out and cold slowly creeping in, or light from another room dimming as a door swings closed, or like blood leaving the body from its thickest canal. She knew all of these feelings separately. Separately, they were bearable. Together, they left her hopeless. She had so many questions.
"Kai!" she called. Her boots made woody clunks as she stepped delicately over her fallen front door and stood in the door frame. He was halfway down the street, the bastard, walking at human pace because he was so conceited to believe that she would actually do what she was about to do. She called his name again. He didn't turn around, even though she was certain he could hear her quite clearly. He was going to make her work for it. Because he knew, and she knew, he was right. He needed her to admit it to herself by taking a step: she wouldn't stand a chance by herself here, and she didn't want to try anymore. No matter the cost of company.
Abandoning all good sense, she humored him and took that first step out of the house. He didn't seem to have noticed.
She broke into a sprint after him and he still wouldn't turn around. She slowed down a tentative few yards behind him and said his name again before he stopped dead in the road. Her heart pounded as she watched his head turn slightly, before he vamp-ported to standing right in front of her. Her heart skipped a beat but she stood her ground, glaring up at him.
He said in a way that feigned surprise, "Bonnie! I must not have heard you. What's up?"
She sighed. "I need a drink."