Hi y'all! I realize I forgot to disclaim the last two things I posted so... DISCLAIMING NOW!
Just want to let you all know that for some reason I can no longer reply to reviews unless I private message you. So if you do take the time to leave a review (which I very much hope you do) just know that I'm super appriciative. Each review reminds me why I'm writing this story. You're reviews mean the world to me, so please do keep them coming!
The end of this chapter feels a little abrupt - just to warn you. I couldn't think of anything that fit properly after the last line and I just wanted to post it since it's been AGES since the last update. Hopefully it's not too painful.
Food for Thought: Katherine is extremely self-centered. As long as things are going her way she's happy. Right now her way includes having the undivided attention of the Salvatore brothers (more specifically Stefan). What with both brothers now interested in Bonnie (for different reasons), I'm not sure how much longer she'll be able to fly under Katherine's radar...
The early afternoon sun streamed into the windows of the library, warming the room and inspiring a welcoming atmosphere. Bonnie took her time as she worked her way around the expansive room, enjoying the peace. She secretly marvelled at the collection of bound volumes as her duster traced their spines.
The sound of someone entering the room made her glance over her shoulder discretely. Noticing Stefan hovering near the door, she frowned. He looked unsure of himself with his eyes downcast and focused on something internal. Suddenly his eyes lifted and met hers dead on. Heart leaping out of her chest, Bonnie spun back to her work.
"Girl?"
She stiffened and groaned silently to herself. The last thing she needed was to start interacting with Stefan too.
I'm jumping to conclusions. Maybe he just has a task for me to do, she thought rationally. Taking a deep breath she turned to face him, putting on what she hoped was the impression of a good servant.
"Yes, Mr. Salvatore."
"Have you seen my brother at all?"
There was something about the way he was studying her that was making her feel uncomfortable, like he was trying to crack some sort of puzzle. She struggled not to fidget under his gaze and answered truthfully, "No I haven't, Sir."
"He hasn't been by this way?"
"No, Sir."
His lips pulled down and he seemed to study her even harder. No longer able to meet his gaze head on, she opted for the wall above his shoulder.
"How is your arm?"
"Half way to healed, I think."
"That is good to hear." He paused a moment before continuing, "You are new here, yes?"
Brow furrowing in confusion, she brought her eyes to his face again and really looked at him, but his expression gave nothing away. He merely looked politely curious, though his eyes were still studying her intently, making her feel off-kilter, like she was missing something.
"Yes."
"And how are you finding it?"
"I... I like it more than I thought I would."
He nodded slowly as if in understanding. "And where are you from originally?"
What is with the sudden interest in me?
Her eyes found the wall over his shoulder again as she lied, "Canada."
She noticed his eyebrows shoot up in her periphery. "And you chose to come here because...?"
She sighed, raking her brain for a plausible explanation. Why would she leave Canada? Why... why had she cast the spell? "I wasn't happy there."
The truth of it settled heavily on her chest and she felt suddenly fatigued. She didn't want to answer any more questions. What she wanted was to know what Stefan was up to. Squaring her shoulders, she cut him off just as he opened his mouth to ask another question.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude or anything, but why are you interrogating me?"
His jaw slackened, making him look a bit like a fish out of water. He hadn't been prepared for her to question him in return.
"No," he finally managed, a small smile slipping across his face, "this is not an interrogation at all. Forgive me. I was merely curious. You had made such an interesting entrance into our household; I simply wanted to learn more about you."
"I've been here for over a month. Why now?" She questioned, getting the sneaking suspicion he wasn't being honest.
His jaw loosened yet again as he was caught off guard. A collision of emotions played on his face, as he tried to decide how he was supposed to feel. A sense of déjà vu overcame her as she remembered her first meeting with Damon. The brothers were far more similar than they first appeared.
Settling on a mixture of amused bashfulness that only he could wear, he chuckled briefly as he bowed his head. "It would seem I have been caught out. In truth, I have an ulterior motive for this interview."
"And that is?"
He looked over his shoulder and into the hallway before turning his attention back to her. Hesitating briefly, he brought himself further into the room, closer to her, before he answered, "Recently I have become aware of... my brother's interest in you."
Her eyes widened to saucers as she shook her head in disbelief. She wasn't even fully aware she was doing it, too distracted by the screaming repetition of Deny! Deny! Deny! in her head. "I – I don't –"
"Please," he interrupted, raising a hand to quiet her stuttering rebuttal, "I have seen the way he looks at you and I know my brother better than anyone."
How he looks at me? Oh God! Does he think...? Her cheeks warmed at the thought. Shaking her head even harder she protested, "It's not what you think! We're friends. We – we don't do anything illicit. We just talk, that's all."
He didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded nonetheless. "Of course. I did not believe that my brother would do anything untoward with you –"
"No, never." She interjected, surprising herself by how quick she was to defend him.
Stefan paused fleetingly to consider her before smiling softly. "No, he would not... But my brother can be very reckless and what he's doing – what you're both doing is extremely dangerous, especially for you."
"Trust me, I'm aware."
"Damon often does things that land him in a sea of trouble. It is no big matter... but I could not stand by while he placed someone else's life in danger." His brow furrowed with concern.
There was something comforting about how constant Stefan was. He definitely had a hero complex. With others she might have found it annoying, but with Stefan it was endearing, and it made her miss Elena all the more. They really were perfect for each other - completely selfless.
"Why did you come to me with this? Why not Damon?"
He bowed his head again, embarrassed. "I... I wanted to be certain you were worth the risk he is chancing."
"Oh," was all she managed as she felt the blush crawl back across her cheeks. "We're just friends."
Why she felt the sudden urge to re-establish that point was beyond her. He lifted his head and smiled, nodding. "So you have said."
Finding the ground unexpectedly enthralling she focused on that rather than the embarrassment thrumming its way through her. Stefan, not noticing or, as was more likely, too polite to draw attention to her discomfort, continued on thoughtfully. "I suppose I will have to speak with Damon regardless. My brother has many talents, but alas, subtlety is not one of them."
A small chuckle escaped from her unhindered. She couldn't argue with that. Laughter sounded faintly somewhere down the hall and Bonnie took that as her cue to turn back to her work.
"Forgive me. I never asked your name."
Feeling like it would be impolite to talk to him facing away, she sighed deeply, swinging around to answer. "Bonnie."
She paused a moment, waiting to see if he had anything else to say and in that moment Damon's voice glided into the room, immediately followed by his person... and Katherine's.
"Stefan, there you are! Miss Katherine was beginning to –" He broke off, coming to a halt in the middle of the room with Katherine on his arm. His eyes darted back and forth between Bonnie and Stefan, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion. He wasn't the only one scrutinizing them. Katherine was also eyeing them with interest, one corner of her mouth turned down in displeasure.
It was then that Bonnie realized how close Stefan was standing to her. Nothing indecent by any means, or remotely as close as when Damon crowded her space, but surely closer than any servant and employer would in 1864. She couldn't help but notice that Stefan himself looked a little like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Having regained his composure Damon concluded, "Miss Katherine was beginning to believe you had deserted us." A tight smile graced his features, nowhere close to reaching his eyes.
"Yes. You haven't been avoiding me, have you?" Katherine teased, offering up her own empty smile.
"No, not at all." Stefan began, stepping away from Bonnie and closer to Katherine. "In fact I was just inquiring after your whereabouts from Bonnie here."
"Were you?" Damon asked Stefan, his tone light and jovial. But his eyes were sharp and focused solely on Bonnie, as if he could pry the truth out of her with just a glance.
Averting her gaze, she watched as Katherine's attention shifted from Stefan to Damon and then slowly, to her. Her eyes narrowed as the gears churned in her cunning little mind – whatever Katherine was thinking she didn't look happy about it.
This isn't good. This is NOT good. Bonnie thought darkly to herself as her palms began to sweat.
"Well, how about a game of football before it starts to rain? Or perhaps a walk around the gardens?" Stefan suggested.
"Football?" Damon repeating slowly, his eyes shooting to Stefan before narrowing in suspicion on Bonnie.
Her own eyes narrowed in return. Why was he looking at her like that?
"Football?"
"Yes. It's this sport I learned –"
"I know what football is."
The memory hit her so quickly, her mouth dropped open in a silent, "oh." She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the clear assumption Damon was jumping to. He could be so ridiculous sometimes.
"Very well. Football sounds adequate." Damon finally answered before turning to Katherine. "What do you reckon, Miss Katherine? Do you fancy a game of football?"
"Certainly. If you boys believe you can keep up..." She answered, throwing a cheeky smile over her shoulder as she disentangled herself from Damon and exited the room, obviously pleased to have the brothers' attention again.
Following closely on her heels, Damon left without sparing Bonnie a second glance. Stefan, on the other hand, lingered slightly, just long enough to offer a small apologetic smile before departing.
Feeling suddenly exhausted, Bonnie allowed herself to sink against the shelf, the ledge making a perfect headrest. Something, deep in her bones, told her change was coming.
Bonnie sat back against Emily's headboard with more force than she intended. The edge of the hard wood dug into her back, but she hardly noticed as she tried to digest the information she had just received. "So all the work you've done so far...?"
"Is unusable." Emily finished, a frown marring her beautiful features.
"Completely?"
She nodded her head gravely. "It would seem what little advancement I have made has been for nought."
Sitting up a little straighter, Bonnie shook her head. She refused to believe Emily had spent a month working on a spell and had nothing to show for it. "What about the grain of sand thing? You know, in an ocean... or an hour glass?"
"No. The ocean was too vast, the possibilities too endless and even within such a contained structure as an hour glass, one has no control over the grain's destination. If I proceeded to study time in that fashion I would only be able to send someone forward or backward in time with no inclination of their destination."
"Well it's not like I landed anywhere near my destination, so maybe that's what you did?"
Emily looked at her then, her eyes sharp and reprimanding. "Do you truly wish for me to take that risk?"
Feeling herself deflate, Bonnie tried not to sound too bitter when she replied, "No."
There was a fear prodding at her insides, grabbing hold of her heart and squeezing it painfully – what if she could never go back? It was irrational, she knew. The only reason she was in this situation in the first place was because Emily had successfully created the spell. She just had to be patient... But every once in a while the fear would rear its ugly head and grin at her with its sharp, pointed teeth and she'd panic.
A silence stretched its way throughout the room. Emily had turned to look out the window, though Bonnie suspected she wasn't really seeing anything, her mind too focused on the spell.
Emily's fingers found her desk and she began absently tapping on its surface. Bonnie listened quietly to the nonsensical pattern for a long while, her eyes wandering up to trace the faint cracks in the ceiling in the steadily darkening light of the room. It was definitely going to rain. The sun had already clouded over.
"I suppose," Emily gently broke the silence, "I will have to begin anew. I must alter how I perceive time if I am to get anywhere."
Biting her lip, Bonnie's stomach sunk at the prospect of the long process ahead of them. There had to be something she could do...
"I want to help you."
Turning, Emily eyed her with mild curiosity.
"You have told me all you can remember of the spell." She responded, as if that were all Bonnie could offer.
Moving to sit at the edge of the bed, Bonnie continued, "Yes, but there has to be some way I can be more useful. I'm not just going to sit around while you continue to do all the work."
"You have been working on those spells I taught you, have you not?" Emily questioned suddenly, her eyes peering through her.
"Yes, of course." And she had. In the spare moments she found herself not working or sneaking around with Damon, she had been practising. Her transfiguration spell was pretty solid (she could make a dagger that actually cut things now, though the very tip was still a bit feathery) and she had learnt a few simple healing spells. Nothing that could bring someone back from the dead, but it was a start.
"Then? That is enough."
"No it isn't –"
Emily cut her off with a sharp look. "There is nothing more important than a witch's understanding and control of the fundamental elements of her craft."
"I understand the elements –"
"But you lack the control." She concluded, moving forward to place herself beside Bonnie on the bed.
"I understand," she continued in softer tones, "you only wish to ease my burden, but you have lacked the opportunity to develop these skills fully, Bonnie. This spell is beyond you."
Feeling slightly offended, Bonnie couldn't help but point out, "I did it once before. It was easy."
Emily's eyes narrowed, the corner of her lip turning down the smallest degree. If Bonnie hadn't spent so much time with her she probably wouldn't have noticed. "Yes. It is a wonder it did not kill you."
Bonnie struggled to read the finely printed words in the constant flickering light. Damon had lent her Jane Eyre before their blowout over Katherine. She hadn't gotten very far. She didn't have much time for reading and the wavering light from the candle played havoc with her eyes. It was a wonder anyone got anything done before the invention of the light-bulb. Bonnie could barely function after sunset. This would definitely not be one of the things she missed when...
Despair twisted inside her gut. She couldn't, in good conscience, leave Emily to work alone on the spell, no matter what she said. Closing the book, no longer interested in reading, she watched blandly as the shadows within the room danced across the walls in tune with the sputtering flame beside her. They blinked in and out of existence, shifting shapes and sizes.
It was incredible how light needed dark in order to exist, and vice versa. When she was younger she used to marvel at the sun and how it painted shadows across the earth. That is, of course, after she realized they weren't just living, breathing beings on their own like in Peter Pan. There was this old sun dial in the park by her house that she used to love. It took her forever to figure out how it actually worked, but once she did it was the most amazing –
Wait...
Bonnie shot straight up, suddenly feeling very alert as an idea began to form.
Light created shadow. You could control a shadow – where it appeared, how dark it was, it's shape, how long it reached... You definitely had more control over a shadow than a grain of sand.
I have to tell Emily, she thought, already half way across the room when something hard tapped against her window.
Despite her excitement she paused, head tilted slightly as she listened. It had been raining for a while now, and it didn't sound like it would be letting up anytime soon. She had gotten used to the patter of droplets on her windowpane, but this –
There it was again! It was definitely something harder than water. It had made a snapping sound... There wasn't a tree beside her window, was there?
She tried to remember from the one time she had looked out of it. Snap.
She frowned. This really wasn't important, but it would continue to irritate her until she figured it out because she was certain she recognized it, whatever it was. It sounded like –
Snap.
Stones. It sounded like stones hitting glass. But who would be -?
Oh dear Lord. Please let it be a tree, she thought, climbing onto her bed to look out of her window... just in time to see a stone bounce off the glass. And not five feet away stood Damon Salvatore.
She pried the window ajar the small amount it would open. Then standing on her toes, she managed to lean forward as far as window would allow. The rain had slowed to something more than drizzle and it felt refreshing against her warm skin.
"Are you in –" She stopped short. She didn't even know why she bothered asking. Clearly he was insane. "How did you even know this was my window? It could have belonged to anyone."
He shook his head as if the idea was absurd. "Your room is fifth down on the eastern side of the East Wing. I took note when last I was here."
Her brow furrowed. "You were drunk."
"Drunk, but not unobservant."
She rolled her eyes. He was ridiculous. "Why are you here, Damon?"
"Why, I'm here for you. Come outside, Bonnie."
"It's raining." She protested, noticing for the first time his wet appearance. His hair was damp and plastered to his forehead. It looked even more unruly than usual. His clothes were clearly soaked through. "How long have you been out here?"
"I had to collect the stones, hadn't I? And I will be forced to collect more if you dare retreat." He smirked playfully at her.
A long breath stole between her lips as her toes began to cry from the weight put on them. She wouldn't be able to hold this position for much longer.
"Go inside, Damon, before you catch your death."
"Afraid of a little water, Miss Bonnie?" He teased, his smirk widening to which she frowned in response. "No ailment shall befall either one of us, I assure you."
That's not very reassuring, Bonnie thought even as she lowered herself out of view. The relief shot from her toes all the way up her legs, making her groan audibly. Pointing her toes was excruciatingly beautiful, and she took the moment to enjoy the sensation before putting on her shoes, blowing out her candle and feeling her way out into the dark hallway.
This was probably for the best. She couldn't tell him off properly from that tiny window anyways.
Of course the moment she stepped foot outside the skies opened fully and it started to pour. It was probably the cosmos trying to tell her she was an idiot. Nothing she didn't already know.
Now, standing outside in the pouring rain with Damon Salvatore, Bonnie was suddenly very grateful for the dull, muddy brown garment she was wearing. Damon's own white cotton shirt was clinging like a second skin and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. It was hard to believe that anyone of the 1800s could be so... well, built. Bonnie was finding it surprisingly difficult to keep her eyes above chest level.
"Couldn't you have at least worn layers?" She exclaimed, frustrated more with herself than him.
He smiled widely at her, eyes sparkling with some sort of inner light. "It is far too warm for layers."
"You're delusional." It was late. It was raining. It was cold. "Why am I out here?"
"To enjoy this." He answered, closing his eyes and spreading his arms wide to indicate everything around them. "I love the rain."
"Really?"
She squinted up at him, trying not to get rain in her eyes as she tried to imagine 2010 Damon doing something similar. Standing in a downpour, sans leather jacket; face slightly upturned toward the sky, hair plastered to his face; arms wide open, black T-shirt hugging every line of every muscle; jeans slung low on his hips from the weight of the water...
Bonnie pulled on the collar of her dress feeling suddenly flushed. Maybe it was too warm for layers...
"Ever since I was a child," Damon spoke, drawing her attention back to the moment, "I would steal away into the rain at any opportunity. My mother..."
She waited silently as he paused. There was a weight to the silence telling her whatever this was, it was important. Slowly, he opened his eyes to look at her. The inner light had dimmed, but not extinguished.
"My mother would... scold me for being reckless. More for Stefan's sake than for mine. Even as an infant Stefan idolized me. 'Where ever Damon leads,' my mother used to say, 'Stefan will surely follow.' So if I were to walk out into the middle of a storm –"
"So would he." Bonnie finished for him. He nodded solemnly before turning on his heel and walking into the darkness.
Frowning, she started after him. They walked in silence for a long while, the only sounds around them that of the rain pressing down on the blades of the grass, until finally they came to stop under a tall oak. Bonnie watched as Damon rested against the rough bark of the tree, his cotton shirt pulling even tighter against his skin as it snagged on something. From this angle she could make out each individual ab –
Stop it, Bonnie! She scolded herself, tearing her eyes away and up to meet his own staring intently back at her.
Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. She could probably die from the shear embarrassment alone, though spontaneous combustion also seemed like a viable option. Semi-frozen in a state of humiliation, it took her a moment to realized he hadn't even noticed her ogling him. Relief flooded her petite frame as she took in the way his brow had crumpled in thought.
She was aware the exact moment he came out of his head and was truly looking at her. She felt her skin prickle when his eyes connected with hers.
"What did my brother have to say to you?"
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Stefan?"
His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her. "I hadn't realized you and my brother were so familiar."
Bonnie stiffened. She got the distinct feeling she was treading on thin ice. "We... aren't."
"And yet you call him Stefan." He concluded, his tone accusatory.
"That is his name."
"I remember quite distinctly you being adamant about calling me, Mr. Salvatore. I had to convince you otherwise." He took a few steps forward, erasing the space between them. Bringing his face level with hers, he made sure their eyes were locked before repeating, "And yet you call him Stefan, as if it were the most natural thing in the world... which leads me to believe you and my dear brother are previously acquainted."
Bonnie somehow managed to swallow past the dryness in her mouth as she struggled to play off the accusation. Forcing a laugh that sounded hollow to even her ears, she dismissed the idea with a wave. "Don't be absurd. I... I can honestly say I've known him for as long as I've known you."
Good answer.
Taking in the way he was glaring at her, Bonnie could tell Damon didn't agree.
"Are you meeting him illicitly as well?"
"Where would I find the time?" She scoffed, suddenly exasperated, "I'm always with you."
That seemed to satisfy him somewhat. The irritation relaxed from his features and he straightened up, moving back over to the trunk. His hands found the rough edges of the bark and he began to pick at it idly.
Biting her lip, Bonnie slowly closed the distance between them. Leaning her broken arm lightly against the trunk, she rested her head on its scratchy bark as she watched his hands work. Then, before she could stop herself, she asked, "What would it even matter, if I were friends with Stefan?"
Hands freezing against the trunk, he studied her for a long moment with wide, disbelieving eyes. Gradually, his features eased out and he focused back on the tree.
"Not anything. You are free to be friends with whomever you choose."
"Bullshit. It would annoy you... Why?"
The corner of his lips pulled up at her vulgarity, but he refused to meet her eye. His chest rose and fell with a great breath and then, quietly, he spoke. She had to strain to hear him over the precipitation.
"My brother and I... We know one another best. But there are instances when I believe that even he does not understand me." His blue eyes peeked at her from behind dark lashes, before refocusing in front of him. "He could not possibly understand what it is to be brother to a man like him."
A shiver raked her frame as the breeze sent strands of her wet hair across her cheek.
"The world has been kind to Stefan. He knows precisely what he wishes for his future, he never speaks out of turn or brings shame to the family. He is the ideal son. Mother adored him; Father wishes he were his only son; Katherine..."
Her shoulder brushed his lightly and she realized, with a start, how close she had gotten. But before she could back away his eyes found hers, pinning her to the spot.
His eyes were the most telling thing about him. He let his every emotion reflect through them. She couldn't place what she was seeing in them now. They were bright, almost bluer than normal as he leaned further into the little space left between them.
"I suspect that Miss Katherine favours him." He confided, his tone hushed and conspiratorial.
She pressed her lips together, not sure what to say. She jumped when his fingers grazed her cheek, heat trailing in their wake, as he swept her hair back behind her ear.
"I couldn't bear if you preferred him too. I want you all to myself, Bonnie." His mouth quirked up gently. "As selfish as it is."
A tremor crawled its slow way up her spine that had nothing to do with the wind. Clearing her throat, she tried to focus on anything but her racing heart, or how much curlier his hair was when it was wet, or how close he was standing.
"Stefan knows about us." She blurted, cringing at how much it sounded like an affair.
Damon blinked owlishly, temporarily frozen in place. "Pardon?"
"That's what he was speaking to me about today. He was concerned about what you were getting yourself into."
His brow furrowed, still stuck on the discovery of having been caught. "But how?"
The way you look at me. Bonnie's cheeks burned at the memory of what Stefan claimed, but she couldn't bring herself to say that, so instead she settled for, "I don't know. Maybe he'll tell you. He said he would be speaking to you about this soon."
He groaned loudly, turning to lean his back against the tree. "That will surely be a joy." Sighing, he shot her a grave look before adding, "We must take greater care in future, Bonnie, to ensure this does not occur again."