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Doing the Dance – Part IV

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Then he walked up and told her, thinking that he'd passed
And they talked and looked away a lot, doing the dance
Her hand brushed up against his, she left it there
Told him how she felt and then they locked in a stare

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Damon stood on the front lawn of Brittany Hall, observing the party in full swing. It was a sorority house. His lip curled with disdain. He hadn't thought this through. A college party? He was nearly 200 years old, what was he doing entertaining the whims of a young girl? He was above this. He should leave. Just as he was turning away, a scent in the air made him pause. Bonnie.

"Hey!" he heard her call out to him, pushing through a crowd in the bustling foyer. "That's so weird, I was just coming to look for you." She said on a laugh, coming out to the top step to greet him. "Come on in."

She doesn't live here. How was he getting in without an invite? He approached the stairs slowly. "You look beautiful as aways." He stalled, grabbing her hand and kissing the back of it, keeping his devilish stare on hers.

She blushed, and the smirk on his face fell into a satisfied smile. "Thank you." She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, and Damon was relished in the softness of her lips. Snaking her hand to lace with his, she guided him to the door. He hesitated. "Something wrong?"

Damon's eyes traced the invisible barrier, wondering how to explain away his predicament. Then, his eyes caught sight of the banner above the stairwell.

'Welcome to Brittany Hall; House of the Delta Sigma Theta. Come one, come all!'

Damon relaxed, stepping over the threshold confidently. "Not at all." He replied smoothly.

…

Damon played the role well; he let her drag him around the party, meeting her friends, beating all the drunk guys at pool and joining her on the dance floor as she moved her body to the beat of the music. He was the perfect date. He got her drinks, he led her into a room by the small of her back, he even suffered through the drunken tag-teamed interrogation of her self proclaimed 'besties'. All and all, the night wasn't terrible.

Living up to the role he had played, Damon walked her home. It had nothing to do with wanting to drag out every last moment with her. At least that's what he told himself. She had a way of making him forget who he was. Forget that he was a monster.

When they reached her front door, she paused turning to face him. "Thank you for tonight. I had a great time."

"So did I." Her heart was racing. It was banging like a drum in his ears. What are you thinking about, sweet thing? The demon in him cooed.

She worried her lip adorably, glancing away in nervousness for a moment before she met his gaze through her lashes. "Did you um…did you want to come in?" She tried to keep the waver out of her voice, but unfortunately, she was unsuccessful. "My roommate left campus early for summer so…"

Did he want to come in? Of course he did. Should he? Absolutely, the voice growled. But she had no idea what she had just done. Bonnie just gave him a full access pass, removing any and all boundaries he had cautiously set in place. She wants it, Damon, so why don't you give it to her, huh. Show her who you really are. Damon fought his natural urges, his response stiff and restrained. "Maybe another time."

Disappointment was evident on her face, but she blinked it away, focusing instead on the keys in her hand. "Oh, okay…"

He felt the need to ease her embarrassment. "Don't get me wrong, I want to, but you've been drinking, and if something were to happen between us…" His eyes caressed her lustfully. "I'd want you to fully understand what you're getting yourself into." He finished with a sinister smirk. He was struck with her scent, and a wave of gratification washed over him at her flustered and flushed reaction.

Bonnie boldly stepped into him, looking up and matching his sensual stare with one of her own. "Is that a fact?"

Have her Damon! She's asking for it! His monster screamed. He felt the blood surge under his eyes, but was able to reign in under control before she noticed. He traced a finger seductively along her jaw, brushing his thumb across her plumb bottom lip. "It's a promise." He vowed, his face a hairsbreadth away from hers. They stood there suspended in time, both of them anticipating the others next move. Her eyes fell shut and her lips parted hoping he would end the tension and kiss her like she had wanted him to all night. But he didn't. "Have a good night, Bonnie." He whispered hotly, his lips brushing against her cheek. "Sweet dreams…"

When she opened her eyes, he was smirking, backing away before gliding smoothly on his heels and continuing down the hallway. She released a breath she didn't know she was holding, and ran her hand over her chest and neck, rubbing away the sheen that flushed her skin. This man was doing things to her she never felt before. She got back into the confines of her room, her finger tips brushing her lips, recalling the softness of his touch. She couldn't keep the giddy smile off her face. She had been skeptical of him at first; his mystery being both thrilling and worrisome at the same time, but she gave him a chance and he surprised her. Damon was good with her friends, adapted comfortably in a room full of people he didn't know and to top it off, he appeared to be a gentleman – who would have thought?

She got herself ready for bed, removing her clothes and make up and slipping into a baby pink silk camisole and matching panties, before getting under the covers and curling into her pillow. Sleep took her quickly.

…

She was standing at a gate; a wrought iron gate that was flanked by two lion statues and brick wall on either side. She didn't know why, but every fiber of her being was telling her to get to the other side. Her eyes fell to the loose chain, and she ducked under it squeezing through the gap. On the other side was a massive property including a luscious maze and a beautiful estate. Where am I? Glancing around, she walked up the main path towards the house. Her feet seemed to have a mind of their own, moving forward despite her better judgement telling her to be cautious. She walked the porch steps, taking in all the nuances of the serene tableau she found. There was a porch swing to her left, the light breeze blowing it gently, rattling the chains like a windchime, and flowers were overflowing from the numerous planters strategically placed and the towering window shutters, were a dark blue against the pristine white of the mansion.

A frown creased her brow, noticing the front door slightly ajar. Thoughtlessly, she pushed it open, a creak echoing through the vast foyer. Her jaw nearly fell to the floor. People live like this? It looked like a museum. Giant paintings with gold trimmed frames adorned the walls, marble statues and antique furniture were prominent throughout, and the vaulted ceilings only made the space look larger. She slowly wandered through, taking in everything with curious eyes; it was like stepping back in time.

In one room, there was a fireplace, still roaring as if someone was still living here. In front of it was a large red leather lounge chair, with a high back and foot ottoman. Her fingertips caressed it gently, appreciating the quality of the fabric. That's when she noticed the photo on the mantle. It was of two young boys; grinning brightly into the camera arms slung around each other. The darker haired boy, appeared to be older and taller, and the younger seemed fairer and chubby. Their clothes indicated this was taken lifetimes ago, yet the photo was in perfect condition.

The melodic sound of keys on a piano drew her attention and she followed it to another room. But the closer she got to it, the farther away it seemed to be. She had made it through every room on the main floor before she decided to venture upstairs her hand up trailing up the railing as she went. The music got closer, and she eagerly followed it to a closed bedroom door. Her heart hammered in her chest. Why was she so nervous? What was on the other side…or more importantly, who would she find there? She placed her hand on the knob, and a voice that was not her own made her pause.

"Don't." There was no one around her, yet she could practically feel the whisper on the back of her neck.

"Why shouldn't I?" she asked back, hand still clutching the doorknob.

"Maybe you don't like what you see." The voice answered cryptically, and she recognized it instantly.

Her eyes closed, embracing the invisible voice, and a lazy smile dimpled her cheeks. "What if I do? Don't you want to let me in?" She was met with silence. "Why else would I be here?" It was a second later when she heard the lock unlatch, resounding in the vast empty house. Slowly, she stepped through, the door creaking obnoxiously as she opened it, but all she was faced with was darkness. The one thing she could make out in the room was a lantern, tracing a silhouette of a man at the piano. "Damon?" His fingers paused on the keys, and his head raised. His back was to her, but she knew it was him.

His head turned slightly revealing his profile. "You shouldn't be here."

Bonnie walked further into the room. "Maybe not…but you want me to be." She canted her head trying to get a better glance. "Don't you?"

He bowed his head, his fingers picking back up where they left off, playing a more ominous tune. "Yes…" He rasped.

It made her smile. "Then what's the problem?"

He chuckled cynically. "I don't know if you're ready."

Bonnie stepped out of the light and into the darkness to get closer to him. "I am."

…

She had opened Pandora's box. Leaving her earlier that night, Damon knew there was no coming back from this obsession. He had spent the next few hours hunting; chasing the dragon as they say, hoping that maybe it would be enough to quell his desires. Clearly it wasn't, or he wouldn't be in her room, watching the object of said desires sleep peacefully in her bed. His gaze fluttered over every curve of her face, every freckle on her skin, the perky swell of her bare breasts under the thin fabric on her camisole. Her hair was a mess of wild waves splayed on her pillow, and Damon wanted to fist his hands in it. His eyes traveled down the column of her neck, and wondered what she would taste like; would she be sweet? A hint of spice? Would she taste like a full-bodied wine, or a rare scotch? Silky and unctuous or rich and velvety?

Find out. The voice tempted him. It was enough to snap him out of his reverie. "Not yet…" he whispered out loud pensively, cocking his head as he watched her nuzzle further into her pillow. His lip quirked in the corner adoringly and Damon ghosted the back of his knuckles over her cheek. "But soon." She surprised him. He had initiated this dream, yet she seemed to be the one driving it forward. Maybe she was ready…

He left her room in a whoosh, and the breeze was enough to rouse her. Bonnie frowned, sitting up tiredly, rubbing her bleary eyes. The wind was blowing the white curtain, and it let in a refreshing chill…but she didn't remember leaving the window open.