Set around Season 2
Pairing: Damon and Bonnie
Word Count: 2,808
Notes at the bottom.
"Do you often moan my name in your sleep?"
Bonnie was tempted to turn her head in surprise of his arrival, but then again, she really wasn't so surprised. He'd always had the odd habit of placing himself into her life at the worst and most inconvenient times.
Jade-coloured eyes stayed firmly linked with the old transcript, however her focus on actually reading the old Latin was lost with Damon behind her. Without turning around she could tell his form was pushing weight upon the small park bench, feeling a slight fracture in heft from where her form was planted.
"Damon," She acknowledged, finding great haste in doing so; a bitter aftertaste following the flow of his name on her lips. Bonnie didn't want to turn around, slight fear nagging at her. She knew when she turned around she would finally face the person who'd been in her dreams; in what had to be more than just a dream.
Her mind swam back to last night when his name had been on her lips in a fit of desperation; the desperation of a small child not wanting her favorite person in the world, her idol, to leave her. Her lips almost twitched with the humor she found in thinking of Damon as anything but an involuntary ally, let alone as her idol.
His question had taken her off guard; but even then, there was no way Bonnie was going to answer it- even as her form visibly froze for a few moments.
She could imagine what her dream must have looked like, watching from the outside. The girl with the midnight tresses kept herself from shifting uncomfortably at the thought of him witnessing her at her most vulnerable; especially at a highly interpretable situation as such.
He would persist, however.
"So why were you dreaming about me?" Even with her back turned on him she could tell he was smirking. She could feel the weight of his piercing blue eyes sinking into her back. Nevertheless, the witch didn't hunch, didn't bend over, and didn't move. Instead, she remained completely still and appeared focused, acting as though he was just a bee buzzing in the background.
But the thing about bees was, you never knew just when they were going to sting.
The brunette tried not to let the embarrassment seep into her; she had nothing to be discomforted about. Bonnie had simply been having a nightmare- if she could title so herself… She really did had nothing to be discomforted about. Nothing. Well, there was one thing. Her eyes narrowed at the ancient text in front in abasement.
"What were you doing at my house so late?" She finally retorted, casually.
"Tactic chat," He said without even hesitating. Her eyebrows shot up in pure disbelief, but she still didn't turn.
"You were watching me while I was sleeping?" The thought manifested its way into her mind and she held back a shiver, letting go of the book and giving up on even focusing on the words; she was all ears for Damon now.
"I caught a glimpse."
Her head shook, frustration a cold blanket that was smothering her. He wanted answers from her, yet his were vague and clearly false. Bonnie felt the pit of her stomach drop at the swarm of further thoughts revolving around Damon's presence around her house last night. She had never been so thankful for the invisible line that stopped Damon perpetrating into the only place that was sane and untouched in her life.
"You…" Bonnie found she couldn't finish her sentence, and at this point, couldn't help leaning back, her shoulder hitting the place next to his hand. Green orbs were still slightly narrowed as she finally got a glimpse of Damon's amused features. Her eyebrows were raised in curiosity and frustration now, bewilderment was even seeping in; she thought he had some common sense.
"Tactic talk? Don't you think I have a life outside all of this, Damon?" His lazy smile was transferring back into a smirk as he looked down at the girl whose neck was arched so she could stare up at him. Her eyes were as innocent as always, he observed; despite the attitude she pulled off around him. Innocence was innocence, you were born with it and it clearly hadn't left Bonnie just yet. Damon didn't think it ever would, and had no desire for the one constant thing within Bonnie Bennett to dissolve into misery, or depression or the scaring that the drag of his eternal life had bestowed upon him.
He had been used to watching the fire within Bonnie Bennett roar since the moment he first laid eyes on her.
Without removing his smug gaze from the witch, he tapped the corner of the abandoned grimoire resting on her lap in response.
Bonnie's eyes didn't leave his as her frustration threatened to blanket her completely. Her jaw clenched for a moment before she retained her constant ideal when talking to Damon: not let him get under her skin.
"Really? Tactic talk?"
"Really? I caught you writhing with my name on your lips, Bennett. What was that all about?" The words that flowed from his lips came out slow and somehow sultry.
The air had suddenly gotten hot, and she had to stop herself from flushing from what he was suggesting. She had no idea how he was making her feel this way.
"Was it some other Damon on your lips last night, then?"
She desperately wanted to tell him about her dream; she wanted him to confirm that it was, like she was putting it, 'just a dream' and move on. But somehow those questioning words were stuck in her throat. She had never actually talked to him about things other than what had to get done, who had to be killed, and what plan would be initiated next. The hereditary stubbornness in her bones prohibited her from taking the first step toward a new level of intimacy with Damon.
Bonnie let a sigh escape at her on growing confusion and frustration, simple words then shaped by her lips and passed on through the air. "Yes. A much nicer fit to the name." The words were such a lame lie that not even she could say it was intended as the truth.
"By the sound of your heart beat, I'd say otherwise."
Her fingers clutched the grimoire helplessly, exasperation taking her over once again. Bonnie's form turned from her staring lift into Damon's eyes back to her initial position as though she could block him out by the swift movement of her shoulders; if only she could be so lucky.
However, the vampire suddenly had a foot resting on top of his leg as she found him next her; inches next to her. Bonnie now had two options; she could penetrate her stubbornness and risk both the awkwardness and the unknown, and tell him about the dream, or not, and have him taunting her like this for at least a good few months.
She didn't even know when his taunting had started getting to her. But she wasn't sure how much longer she could take it.
"Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie… you know dreams can come true, right?"
His eyes side glanced at her stubborn and set features as she stared at the book in her lap, trying to ignore him. Of course he was mocking her.
His face then began to inch closer with every word that exited his lips, sensing something was on her mind.
In fact, he had gathered the witch had something squirming in her pretty little head from the moment he had dropped in. It was all a matter of simply cracking the egg… he just had to get her to tell him; well, tell him or respond in a way that only happened in movies definitely not rated PG 13- which ever worked.
Though, he did register the most likely reaction was to have his brain fried, but he didn't seem to care; dealing with her problems had got to be a whole lot more interesting than Elena or Jeremy's… even Alaric had begun to irk him slightly. Besides, he couldn't have their best ally distracted, could he?
Bonnie could clearly see and even feel his face inching closer to her, hovering. His words having caused her to shift in her seated position, while every muscle in her body tightened along with her jaw. She found the urge to cause him pain rising each and every moment he grew closer, as well as the urge to just tell him straight and sunny what was on her mind. But Bonnie had always been stubborn; she held out.
"You just have to make them come true…"
Damon's head tilted as his lips were now hovering near her ear. His finger had risen to touch her cheek.
"We could make them now… or was there a specific place? Just-"
Damon's words were suddenly cut off by Bonnie scooting herself entirely off the bench, letting her feet hit the ground as she stood with her book slammed shut, hugged in her arms. She had gotten away before any harm was done, and she felt that was an achievement… or at least a step in managing her anger around Damon.
"Who are you?"
Damon's eyebrows shot up as he lazily leant back against the bench, his smirk showing in proudness of his work.
"Didn't know you had short term memory loss, Bonnie. Then again, all you witches have your crazy flaws."
"You were in my dream-"
"Yes, the one you moaned about."
"-With my parents. My mom. With Grams."
"Kinky, but not really my thing, Bon-"
Bonnie felt the urge to hit him with the heavy book in her hands rising.
"It was my sixth birthday. You were there- with my family- With me, Damon."
Damon sensed the utter frustration from the witch's tone, but the desperation was what made him stop. That, and how he had to pause a moment to think. He stared at her, puzzled himself by what she was saying. It was impossible… she couldn't remember…
"So… is it real, Damon? I've… had more."
A frown laced her lips as she trailed off. Damon tried not to think about what she was saying to him. At least not now, not in front of her when he was feeling so conflicted and so surprised he could just as well been told he could fly.
"What's going on, Damon?"
"I think you've inhaled more than too many caldron brews, that's what I think."
"You're hilarious; happy?"
"Not as much as you think." He shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly and her eyes homed in on his features completely. He knew she couldn't tell how true his words actually were; he had long since mastered the art of disguising his emotions.
"Answer the question, Damon."
"One for ordering people around now, Bonnie?" His features mimicked hers, his eyes narrowing teasingly at her. Though, he had visibly sunk lower into the uncomfortable bench as her gaze intentionally tried to break him. He wouldn't give in; not fully at least. Not until he knew what was going on, how she remembered. For now, he didn't see how it was any of her business, anyway.
Lies were also something he had mastered.
She watched him for a moment longer, his eyes lowering for just a moment in thought. A heart-shaped face tilted back, eyes closing for just a moment as a bitter smile pulled up at the edge of her lips. He's denying it, she thought, that means it's true. She shifted the weight from her feet, right to left, before resting equally on both, ready to face the rest of this head on.
"So it's all true…" She trailed off, swallowing the emotions that wanted to choke her, wanted to slow her down and stop her from asking what she had to.
His gaze finally lifted to hers once again, and green met blue all over again.
"Also one for jumping to conclusions. My, my, the little witch has changed. What happened to rational Bonnie?"
"So you were there, at my sixth birthday... and even before then. How long?"
He watched her half curiously from his seat. Despite the rising hysteria he could see in her, she was determined for answers; he'd always admired her determination. But the underlying stubbornness of the Bennett gene was also there, something he had grown to equally admire and despise. For this reason, and for this reason only, he tilted his head, his expression steeling protectively.
"I may have… dropped by."
Her eyebrows simply raised, the fingers around her book pressing into the old hard cover for the support she needed in continuing.
"What do you mean you dropped by?"
He found he had a strong urge to just get up and leave, but for reasons beyond him, he went on lounging against the sturdiness of the park bench. His eyes reluctantly stayed upon her and he knew it was infuriating her just a little. He kept silent, still dragging his head around the fact that she was remembering things, which in short, she wasn't supposed to remember.
She was struggling with the need for answers and the incentive she had that was goading her to just turn away from a lost cause. The determination in her eyes lost its spark, knowing she had gained an entry, but the toll both still sat in the way.
As much as she wanted answers, she knew that when he wasn't co-operating, he wasn't co-operating.
The witch didn't waste another moment staring at him, not one more second. She simply turned on her heel and into the other direction.
This brought her face to face with Damon once again. Her foot halted backward in reaction, her animosity protruding heavily; she didn't find the idea of being close to a dishonest person pleasant, it being him or not.
Bonnie's gaze finally lifted expectantly at him, and he didn't say anything for a moment. His face was contorted into a look she hadn't encountered often; it was deep in thought and struggling with empathy. His hand lifted absentmindedly, the back of it stroking softly down from her shoulder. Her expression hardened at the unanticipated form of contact between the two of them.
His back arched quickly, his heading ducking to conform to the height that made up her eye-level. His piercing oceanic eyes leaked into hers with an honesty she didn't know he was capable of.
Even though the words he said next coincided along with anything but what was actually shrouding his features, it didn't matter; because she barely heard the three words that flowed from his mouth.
"Forget about it."
And those eyes said anything but.
Her perceptive stare managed to conclude an entirely different set of words, more fitting to the look upon his face. It went along the lines of
'You weren't supposed to know.'
Whether he was capable of saying something like that, she wasn't sure, but she'd rather take that answer than the one that actually came out.
She held his gaze for a moment longer, piercing him with the determination and shining hope that was always filtering around her features just on a lesser scale. It sent a message; they both knew it.
"Whatever," she muttered under her breath. Her shoulder hit his on her way past him, sending an odd feeling throughout her body, but she kept walking; leaving him behind. He watched as her figure became distant, knowing she had gathered everything she had wanted her to know, whether he said anything or not. Both of them knew this wasn't the end of that conversation.
Both knew this was just the beginning of a story that stretched past and present.
Both of them knew she wasn't giving up.
So I literally have not written anything in quite a while, and this one-shot doesn't exactly amend that status because I wrote this probably a year ago. I've had time to go through drafts and I stumbled upon this on my laptop- there might be more coming up then. I was planning on turning this into a story I think, but instead I just edited it and decided to post it as a one-shot, which I hope you guys enjoy anyway :)
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the writing.