11: Reunited
Damon and Bella lay sprawled across the sheets, naked and breathless. Their reunion had been a whirlwind of passion, fueled by a desperate need to feel each other again.
The sex had started innocently enough, a rekindling of the embers that had never truly died. But it had quickly intensified, morphing into something raw and primal. It was a side of Bella that Damon hadn't seen before, a fierce hunger that mirrored his own. It surprised him, fueled a hidden thrill, but also a flicker of disquiet.
Breaking the silence, Damon traced a finger along the curve of her shoulder. "We need to talk," he said, his voice thick with sleep and unspoken emotions.
Bella turned to face him, her gaze searching his. "About what?"
He sighed, acknowledging the need for honesty. "My behavior yesterday. I was a jerk, letting my insecurities get the best of me…" He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
"Damon," she said, her voice soft but firm, "I love you. You know that. And I wouldn't be here if I didn't."
Her words were a balm, but they didn't erase the hurt that flickered in her eyes.
"But constant suspicion… constant tests… they wear on a person, Damon," she said, her voice gaining strength. "It makes me feel like you don't trust me, like you're not sure if my love is real."
Her words hit him hard. Trust, the very foundation of their relationship, had been cracked by his actions. He deserved her reproach.
"That's not it," he mumbled, shame twisting his gut. "It's just… the thought of losing you again…"
He trailed off, unable to articulate the depth of his fear.
Bella sat up, pulling the sheet around her shoulders. Her eyes held his, a well of understanding mixed with hurt.
"I understand your fear, Damon," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "But my faith in you is stronger than any doubt. I chose you, after everything. I chose to believe in us."
A flicker of hope sparked in Damon's chest.
"But trust is a two-way street," she continued. "And right now, yours feels… conditional."
His heart sank. She was right. His need for constant reassurance was pushing her away.
"I know," he said, his voice low. "And I'm truly sorry. But I want to fix this, Bella. I want to earn back your trust. Completely."
Her lips curved into a small smile. "Alright," she said, her voice laced with a hint of a challenge. "Then show me. Make it up to me."
A wave of relief washed over him. He wouldn't let her down. He wouldn't let himself down. He would prove to her, to himself, that their love was strong enough to weather any storm.
O_O_O_O_O_O_O
The afterglow of their reunion clung to Damon like a warm summer breeze. Curled around Bella, he drifted in and out of sleep, a contented smile playing on his lips. Suddenly, a jarring blast of music ripped through the tranquillity of the room. It wasn't just any music – it was heavy metal, played at a volume that could wake the dead (or the undead, as the case may be).
Damon jolted upright, his eyes snapping open. "Ughhh," he groaned, throwing his arm over his forehead. "What the hell is he doing?"
Bella stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Is that… music?" she mumbled, a frown marring her sleep-flushed face.
"Yeah," Damon confirmed, a hint of amusement laced with annoyance in his voice. "Sounds like your favorite brand of torture, courtesy of Stefan."
Bella, who had been woken by the racket as well, mirrored his grimace. "Seriously?" she grumbled, swatting at him playfully.
Bella sat up, her eyes flashing with irritation. "Well, someone needs to go shut it off before I snap his neck," she declared, her playful threat both surprising and oddly arousing to Damon.
He chuckled, leaning down to brush a kiss against her lips. "Easy there, tiger," he teased. "I'll handle it."
Climbing out of bed, he grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them on before heading towards the door. The music pulsed through the air, vibrating through the floorboards.
With a mischievous grin, Damon flung open Stefan's door, the blaring music washing over him like a sonic wave. Stefan, sprawled on the floor in the middle of the room, was surrounded by overturned furniture, his eyes glued to a dusty record player.
He wore only a pair of ratty sweatpants, his hair a mess, and a manic glint in his eyes. The sight was so unexpected, so utterly unlike the brooding Stefan Damon knew, that it took him a moment to process it all.
"Could you turn it up a little bit?" Damon shouted over the deafening speakers, his voice laced with mock-seriousness. "I dont think the neighbors can hear it."
Stefan whipped his head around, his face contorted in a mixture of surprise and irritation. The music abruptly sputtered to a stop as the needle scratched across the record.
"Damon?" Stefan stammered, blinking rapidly as if trying to clear his head. "What are you doing here?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Damon said with a smirk, reaching over and turning the music down with a dramatic flourish. Stefan, chest heaving from exertion, shot him a glare that could curdle milk.
"Sorry, couldn't resist," Damon said, amusement dancing in his eyes. "But seriously, what's with the impromptu aerobics class?"
Stefan slumped onto the floor, wiping sweat from his brow. "Just… working out some kinks." He avoided Damon's gaze.
Damon's smirk faltered. He wasn't stupid. He eyed Stefan's clothes, the overturned furniture, and the desperate energy radiating from him.
"Look," Damon started, trying to sound gentle, "If you need to talk about last night…"
"Nope," Stefan interrupted with a stubborn shake of his head. "Don't need to. All figured out."
Damon raised an eyebrow. "Right. Because blasting Queen and doing push-ups in your underwear screams 'under control'."
Stefan shot him a withering look. "There are worse ways to deal with things, Damon. At least I'm not drowning my sorrows in a bottle of bourbon."
A touch of guilt flickered in Damon's eyes. He cleared his throat. "Alright, alright. But lighten up a little, would you? You look like you're about to spontaneously combust."
He paused, then a sly grin returned to his face. "Though, as much as I enjoy watching you turn into a more annoying Richard Simmons, let me guess what's really going on here…"
Stefan groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Here we go…"
Ignoring his brother's groan, Damon continued, "Noticed when we were leaving last night Elena had a little bandage on her wrist. Since you were in remarkably bad shape the last I saw you, tied up and bleeding…" He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.
Stefan kept his face hidden, but a muscle in his jaw clenched.
"So," Damon concluded, "Elena made a misguided donation, and now you're trying to feel the burn anywhere but your throat. Am I close?"
Stefan remained silent, focusing on a spot on the floor.
"Look," Damon sighed, a hint of sympathy peeking through his usual arrogance. "I know Elena's blood was a tempting solution last night, but trust me, it's not a road you want to go down."
Stefan finally lifted his head, his eyes blazing. "Maybe I can handle it, Damon," he snapped.
"Fine," he grumbled, "bored with the concerned brother act anyway." He turned to leave, then paused at the doorway.
"Heading downstairs to grab some lunch. You want anything?" He called out, already anticipating the answer.
Down in the cellar, Damon found the blood bag fridge bare. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. Bella wouldn't have… He knew exactly where the missing blood bags were.
"So much for weaning yourself off this time," he muttered under his breath, returning to Stefan's room with the empty bag held aloft.
"How long did it take you to get clean the last time you indulged? I saw the empty fridge, did you really think I wouldn't check?"
Stefan stopped his push-ups, a grimace creasing his face. "I'll be fine," he mumbled, the defiance in his voice masking a flicker of shame.
Damon scoffed. "Fine? Stefan, this isn't one missing bag. This is the whole damn stash. You know what happens when you can't control it, right?"
"I don't need a history lesson, Damon," Stefan snapped.
"Actually," Damon countered, his voice low, "you might. Remember the council? I barely managed to convince them there were no more vampires in Mystic Falls. We don't need you bringing suspicion back on our doorstep."
"And who's fault is that?" Stefan retorted, a hint of anger creeping into his voice.
Damon raised an eyebrow, playing dumb. "Do you feel like you want to say it's mine?"
"It is your fault, Damon!" Stefan exclaimed. "You gave them blood when you didn't find Katherine in there before you found Bella, you woke them up!"
Damon conceded the point with a sigh. "Alright, alright, you might be right. Maybe it was a little stupid."
"Feeling sorry for yourself won't help anything. Look, maybe I messed up waking them up, but right now, we need to focus on keeping a low profile."
Stefan glared at him for a beat longer, then took a deep breath, trying to control his temper.
"So, what do we do?" he asked, his voice laced with resignation.
"There's nothing wrong with a healthy diet of human blood from a blood bank," Damon said, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "You're not actually killing anyone. But if you're going to be on the 'bag diet,' I have some ground rules."
Stefan rolled his eyes, already anticipating Damon's usual brand of 'help.'
"First," Damon continued, holding up a finger, "you'll only be getting three bags a day. I can't have you on Ripper mode right now."
"I'm not coming to you every time I'm hungry," Stefan argued.
"Of course not," Damon said smoothly. "I don't want to see you that often either. I'll give you your rations in the morning, and it's up to you to space them out."
"And what's to stop me from taking more?" Stefan challenged.
"Well," Damon said with a devious twinkle in his eyes, "once I restock, they'll be hidden in a secret location. One I don't plan on sharing with you."
Stefan scoffed,
but you're seriously enjoying this, aren't you, Damon?" he said, his voice dripping with annoyance.
Damon's smirk widened. "Very much so," he admitted, a hint of childish glee in his voice. "Watching you squirm is almost as good as a decent bourbon."
Stefan gritted his teeth. "I hate to break it to you, Damon, but..." he paused for effect, "...I actually have it under complete control."
Damon raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You do? Well, then you should just carry on, making the rest of us vampires look bad with your unwavering willpower." He got to his feet, dusting himself off with a theatrical flourish. "Have a great day, Stefan."
He turned towards the door, ready to leave his brother to his delusions.
"Oh, and by the way," he added over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "don't think I won't be checking the blood bags every night. Just sayin'."
With that, Damon sauntered out of the room, leaving Stefan alone with his pride and a gnawing sense of doubt. He stared at the empty space where his brother had stood, a mixture of anger and frustration churning in his gut.
O_O_O_O_O_O
Damon leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against Bella's lips. "I have to head out, love," he said apologetically. "Council meeting, then a little blood bank run."
Bella's shoulders slumped slightly. "Ugh, another day stuck inside? I swear, I'm turning nocturnal." She wasn't a fan of being confined to the shadows, especially not during the day.
He knelt before her, taking her hands in his. "Look, Bells," he said softly, "I wouldn't leave if I didn't have to. This council meeting is important, and besides, Stefan… well, someone needs to keep an eye on him."
A flicker of worry crossed Bella's face. "Is he alright?"
Damon hesitated. "He's dealing with things," he said vaguely. "But trust me, you're safer here."
Bella sighed, leaning into his touch. "I know, it's just… frustrating. I feel so helpless stuck here all day."
He understood. The daylight hours were a necessary evil for vampires, but they also meant Bella was trapped indoors, unable to enjoy the world with him.
"I promise," he said, his voice firm with resolve, "I'll work on getting you a daylight ring as soon as possible. It might take some doing - witchy circles aren't exactly fans of me right now - but I'll find a way."
Bella's eyes lit up with a spark of hope. "Really?"
"Absolutely," he said, cupping her face. "You deserve to feel the sun on your skin again. We'll figure this out, together."
He leaned in, stealing a kiss, a silent promise hanging between them. As he pulled away, a mischievous glint entered his eyes.
"Besides," he added with a wink, "who else am I going to boss around all day?"
Bella chuckled, a playful shove aimed at his chest. "Oh, you."
They lingered in their embrace for a moment longer, the unspoken words hanging in the air. The situation was far from ideal, but one thing was certain: they would face it together.
With a final kiss and a lingering glance, Damon pulled himself away. "Alright," he said, a touch of regret in his voice. "I gotta go. But I'll be back before you know it."
Bella nodded, forcing a smile.
"Just be careful," she whispered, her voice laced with concern.
Damon flashed her a reassuring grin. "Always."