I Do Not Own The Vampire Diaries
T for some language
Bonnie didn't hear the flapping of wings with the warm shower spraying on her face but she saw a shadow on the other side of the shower curtain. She couldn't breathe for a few moments as a white hand began to pull it back. She heard herself gasp and the hand disappeared, but the shadow remained.
She practically jumped out of her skin when he pulled the shower curtain open, her brown body pressing against the back wall of the shower. She stared at him and he stared back; they exchanged mixed expressions, her's outraged and embarrassed. His mouth was predatory and slick with all the things he could have said. He would have told her how her shivering little body sent shivers up and down his own. He would have made some indecent comment about how the cold wall made goose-bumps appear on her breasts. He would have asked her to model for him sometime. If only he didn't need her desperately.
"Damon..." she began, but he put up a single finger to silence her.
"Bonnie, shut up," he dragged his hand through his dark hair and closed his eyes, be nice Salvatore, "I need you- your... powers..." he hated having to ask for stuff but he didn't want to force her, if he didn't have to, "I need you to make Elena see sense..." he dragged the s out as he thought, "To want..." he frowned and directed his eyes away from her smirk, "to see that she's meant to be with me." He felt his cheeks warm a degree or two as he cringed. He wasn't used to feeling embarrassed – and he hated it. It made feel vulnerable and weak.
"Why, now?" she exclaimed, gesturing to her naked and shivering body, referring not to his request but to the timing. Couldn't he have waited until she had dressed?
"Bonnie, I've never felt this way about anyone," not even Katherine, "I need her with me. I need her to realise she has the wrong guy. I need... her..." he cringed at the adolescence in his tone. He was whining about his life like a bloody teenager.
"I can't do that.." she began, but he interjected abruptly.
"Can't, or won't?" he snapped, unintentionally baring his fangs in frustration and menace. He knew that this wasn't the way to go about this, but she didn't understand. He saw her tremble and her eyes grow wide with a fear that he usually saw in his victims before he killed them. He wasn't going to kill her, but he wouldn't be able to stop himself from considering it anyway.
"Stephen..." she began in the way of explanation, pre-empting his reaction and pressing her back harder against the wall. The shower-head oozed water onto her bare shoulders.
"Who gives a fuck about Stephen? This is about me and what I want. I wantElena, Bonnie."
He through her a towel as she stretched to reach for one from the radiator. It felt warm around her, but still her skin prickled with awareness of him. She didn't want him to know that his piercing gaze burned holes into her skin, that he could evoke this kind of reaction in her. She didn't want to be his rebound girl if everything went wrong – she would rather be alone and Elena's friend.
"I won't do it Damon."
He narrowed his eyes and in an instant he had her on her knees in front of him. "You will do this for me, Witch." He watched her as she struggled to her feet, her dark head turned down to the ground. He could tell before she even thought of an answer that she would refuse still, despite his silent threat. "Don't think I will just walk away from this, Sweetheart, you will do as you're told."
She gulped and gave a yelp as his nails dug cruelly into her shoulders. She had no reason to doubt that he could make her suffer if she refused a second time. She drew in a shaky breath, "Please, Damon!" she whispered.
"Say it." he hissed frighteningly. He continued to rest his fangs on the thin skin above her pounding artery, a threat that could not be misunderstood. He didn't do anything more to convince her.
"Yes!" she screamed, "Yes, ok? I'll do this one thing, but if Elena gets hurt -"
"You'll what?" he purred into her damp neck, "Turn me into a frog? A mouse? A vole? I'm a fricken' vampire, what kind of chance do you have against me?"
She groaned and pushed him away. He let her do this, but it was clear by the easy smile he wore that she could never really harm him. He could do some damage to her though, and a small part of him hoped that she would remember that the next time she thought about fighting his will.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked finally.
"I need you to convince her that she's made the wrong choice – that it's me she's been longing for all her life. Can you do that for me?" He asked as a question but there was no mistaking that she didn't have a choice.
"I guess so," she began quietly, "but I think you're going -" he stopped her there with a deadening look that made her wilt.
"Does it look like I give a damn about what you think?" he asked her as her legs began to shake.