Quick Note: I know it's been a while since the other (Regret) was written but I was looking back over the reviews and I got quite a few requests to add more to it so... Here's a chapter 2 of sorts.

The empty doorway was suddenly filled with the weight of her presence. His back went rigid and he balled his hands into fists.

"Bennet," he warned, voice low and almost beneath her range of hearing. "Get out."

The last two words were louder, articulated perfectly. There was no room for misinterpretation, yet Bonnie stood still. Feet planted, she crossed her arms over her chest and she stared at him. Her breathing was steady and even, disturbed only once when he disappeared from the bed and reappeared directly in front of her. His posture was looming and stiff, but hers remained calm and collected.

It had been weeks since she'd last seen him. He'd been ignoring her phone calls, evading her when she tried to come by the house, and even going as far as to compelling people to keep guard and let him know when she was coming. She'd told herself over and over that she wasn't going to use magic to forcibly enter, that he would talk to her when he was ready, but enough was enough. All it took was a simple cloaking spell and here they were, standing face to face.

"Damon, you're being ridiculous."

She flinched ever so slightly when he pounded a fist against the doorway beside her head but despite her slight unease she rolled her eyes and walked into his room past him. Her eyes took in the scene. The room was utterly trashed. Had their one night together really been the cause of all of this?

Again, he was in front of her in a flash.

"If you don't get the hell out Witchy I swear to god I will make you."

The threat wasn't much appreciated. Green eyes narrowed and she tilted her head to the right, a small scoff pushing past her lips. If he was going to such great lengths to bury his feelings it meant he could potentially do worse. More than likely he'd end up endangering someone she cared for, himself included. She wasn't about to let that happen.

"Damon." His name had once caused her malice but these days it rolled so easily from her tongue, even when she was scolding. "You're allowed to feel things."

He paused for a moment at her words before a cruel grin stretched across his lips.

"Well Bon-Bon, I don't feel anything."

There it was. But was he implying a flip of the switch, or was he simply in denial? Either way she wasn't having it.

"Fine. You don't feel anything, glad we got that out of the way. Now can you drop this goddamn ignoring me bit and act like a normal person after a one-night stand? I know you've had plenty."

Something inside of him snapped, she could see it in those icy blue eyes of his. He took a deliberate step toward her and she countered with one of her first-learned "tricks." The pain in his head sent him crashing to his knees and he cried out in anger and pain.

"I'm gonna kill you little witch," he chimed out through gritted teeth.

She stopped the pounding in his head and marched over to him, hand reaching out to catch him by the wrist as he slowly staggered to his feet. She tugged his hand to her chest and positioned it just below her left breast, beneath her ribcage.

"Do it."

The rage in his eyes began to fade into confusion. He stared into her eyes which were boring down on him.

"C'mon, Damon. You wanted to kill me plenty of times even before I became the spinning wheel to Elena's Sleeping Beauty. Here's your chance Damon. Do it."

She released her hold on his wrist and his hand remained unsurely positioned at her chest. He could so easily push through. He'd have her heart out of her body within seconds. It would be relatively painless, and then he'd have Elena back. He applied pressure to the spot, temptation winning him over. He studied his hand, studied the shape of her abdomen and her sternum. She was bracing herself for it. His fingertips were pressing in again, hard. He'd probably leave a bruise, if he even left her alive at all.

He looked as if he was steadying himself, preparing to plunge his fist into his best friend's chest. Instead he whisked her over to the wall, put her up against it, and pinned her there while he spoke.

"I'm not going to kill you, Bon." His grip on her arms tightened. "I wish I had it in me to kill you, but I don't. Because yeah, it would crush her if she woke up and found out you died so young. You know who else it would crush? Caroline. It would also crush me. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did anything to hurt you. Is that what you want to hear? That I care about you? Guess what Bonnie? You already knew that."

His face was inches from hers and his hands had moved from gripping her arms to gripping her waist.

"I know that Damon. That isn't what..." Her voice was tired, all the resolve having fled from it. She rested her forehead against his, surprised when he actually let her remain there. "I want to hear you say that you feel for me what I feel for you."

It was out there, hanging between them by a thin thread. Though he hadn't physically removed it, her heart was now in his hands and he could either put it gently back in place or he could destroy it. His choice.

He stayed quiet for a few seconds too long and she closed her eyes.

"I don't."

His answer sounded quiet, forced; but it was all she needed to hear. She gave a few short nods and without another word she broke free of his grip which had loosened exponentially, and she left him alone.

As she descended the stairs she could hear him in his room, further tearing it to pieces.