Damon thinks and thinks and obsesses over what happened only an hour ago, with Bonnie now resting peacefully beside him, hair curving to frame her face like a cradle. There’s a little content smile on her lips as if she hadn’t sobbed herself to sleep. Her dorm bed is hardly enough room for their two horizontal bodies so her arms are wrapped around his waist, ear pressing against his chest; she’s warm against him like a furnace.
It is almost as if she never took a bulldozer and plowed through the wall of defense she built for herself throughout the years. Like her breakdown was an illusion. Not a groan of inadequacy or dissatisfaction fell from her lips because she is sleeping now and she’s therefore okay. Mystic Falls is far away and can’t touch her in her dreams.
He never really thought about it so restlessly or even evaluated the effects that his very messy decisions can have on the circle surrounding him.
He never properly pondered the effects that it does have on the person he wears like a shield, Bonnie Shelia Bennett.
The tiny little witch with the huge heart, it is so easy for people like him-narcissists- to manipulate and bait and make expendable without a thought.
And he’s supposed to be her best friend.
Why does she have to be so selfless and caring and, and perfect? The world takes advantage of people like her and feasts on all the loving, generous, kindhearted people it can because there’s not plenty to go around. Damon knows this. Bonnie pours into them like it’s her obligation, like she has to but she doesn’t.
How could they have allowed this for so long? Without even asking if she’s okay or… sane? Thoughts of Bonnie and her well-being haunt him and it could be hours or minutes but the swarm of memories and his newfound concern whisk away the time.
He knows it’s later than he thinks when the door opens with a slow creak, announcing Caroline’s return. There’s the sound of tip toeing before she turns on her lamp switch and no, she doesn’t expect to see Damon looking like she has disturbed him or something.
He gives her an accusatory glance, noting her heels in hand the stench of dumb jock on her like an eau de parfum.
She’s surprised to see him still there, and not pleasantly.
Damon doesn’t understand how she whispers shrilly but she manages to go into an ear-injuring tirade, scolding him about The Real World and how it isn’t the prison world because, for once, everything isn’t about him. The words seem to flow so freely and practiced that he starts to think this is no improvisation and Care Bear has had this thought on her mind for some time. She says he’s holding her best friend back and that Bonnie long left the “Damon Cubicle” when she returned home so he should stop acting like she’s the only person to exist in this world so she can do the same.
Her chest heaves after her rant and she sighs like she just released a burden. It’s not how she pictured this intervention would go, unloading like a floodgate too early or too late in the wee hours of the morning, but not even she can stick to the plan sometimes. She loves her friend too much to allow Damon stagnating her progress, her wellbeing, her life- for any longer.
“What if Bonnie just adores me and my company,” he says, mostly to annoy her.
Dogmatically Caroline replies, “Stockholm Syndrome.”
He feels a sting in there somewhere that mentally makes him go “ouch.”
“You’re just jealous Bon likes me more.” He only replies to have the last word so none of her remarks can sink in too deep. He’s had his fair share of overthinking for the night.
Damon leaves before she can come up with a rebuttal.
Bonnie awakens with a hangover and her hair nearly strangling her and it’s the first time that she’s noticed how fast her hair has grown. It gives her a feeling of relief because she can say good riddance to the bob she thought she’d love forever until it almost came to that. Forever.
She fingers a long, dark strand between her long, light nails and feels a quiet satisfaction amidst her pounding head.
Quickly, her memory is back and the feeling of mortification upends her self-admiration.
She spends most the morning trying to hide her moodiness about last night. It lingers in her head all day because she doesn’t do that- it’s not her. Tequila is to blame for her break in character, the sensitivity, the temperament, the peck, the bite. The bite. she violently pushes the flirty advances at Damon into the far recesses of her mind until it’s flimsier than a memory.
She did want to thank him for everything but he’s gone in the morning and she understands- she does. It’s not like she feels a glimmer of something tug at her heartstrings, it’s not like there’s a smudge of disappointment in the pit of her gut.
She easily loses herself in Caroline’s telling of her sex escapade from the night before, only a tiny bit envious that she doesn’t have one to share with her. But, she tells herself, she would rather have no story than one with Damon.
She laughs on queue at Caroline’s punchline.
When she’s done reliving her adventures, Caroline looks at her with an almost matriarchal love in her eyes because she is so happy to have her best friend back. Her skin is all glow-y and she looks gorgeous, really, with her long lashes and flushed cheeks. She looks alive.
She reminds her of high school Bonnie, right before she discovered her lineage. Her hair was almost as long as it is now, and she has the same fiery look in her green eyes but more complex. Caroline hasn’t seen Bonnie look so light in years- and why did she ever cut her hair to begin with?
“You look amazing, Bon,” she gushes, but there’s something about her that she can’t quite place her finger on.
She knows that look. Bonnie is the only one in their trio that has never worn that look.
It’s the face she herself wore with Klaus, the face Elena wore with Damon. The layered gaze of someone who knows something they won’t share.
She wants to know but she’ll give it some time because, she thinks, the answer may not be as hard as it seems.
Bonnie always thought a blind date consisted of meeting someone new; a blank slate of sort so she can decide whether or not this person is a solid addition to her life. If not, she will have her fun, receive another free meal or two, get that itch scratched if she’s brave enough, (she never is.) Beneath it all, a blind date is someone she has never seen.
Caroline’s interpretation greatly differs from hers and Bon thinks next time she asks her friend for help, they’ll communicate effectively. They’ll establish definitions so they’re both on the same page.
Stefan looks almost as shocked as she does to see her, his date, but he gives her a hug anyway and they both laugh and shake their heads in sync.
“Asking Caroline for dating advice?”
“I could say the same for you,” Stefan lifts a heavy brow.
“At first, I was thinking ‘what the hell’ but now…I’m really thinking it.”
“I almost feel insulted.”
“Geez, Bonnie, am I not up to par?” she knows that he’s joking but she can’t help to think.
Physically, Stefan is handsome in an almost classic way. Almost because something about him is surreal, maybe even sinister, and gives him a bit of an edge to an otherwise generically attractive face.
Or maybe it’s the quality about him that seems like he’s drawn in smoke. So illusive Bonnie can’t describe him even when looking directly at him. His eyes are green or hazel, his hair blond or brown or somewhere in between.
The sunlight filters in bright and vivid in the Grill yet his features cling to every shadow like a small sign of caution: PRETTY BUT DEADLY. The only thing cemented is the perfect bone structure and the penetrating gaze, the full dark brows, the lips.
Stefan’s the good guy, (compared to Damon anyway.) He does have a crazy side but he’s far better at controlling it than most crazy people she knows. He’s charming. Charismatic but not in a way that’s obvious.
Perhaps she understands Caroline’s logic on this one; they’re both similar in demeanor, more or less the calm ones in most situations, they share a levelheaded nature and a mystery in which it’s hard to guess what they’re thinking.
But a romantic connection? A date? It’s a bit of a reach so she has her doubts. Plus, there’s something that makes her uneasy about the situation because she knows Damon would hate this.
The moment is prolonged between them so she tries to recover the banter. “Stefan, be real, how could you not be up to par?”
She needs polishing, she does, because she can’t recall the last time she’s been on a date. Yes, her remark is flirty but maybe it’s too forward. Or maybe she’s just overthinking.
He gives a toothless smile, all stretched lips before raising his glass and making a toast. “To pars,”
Their glasses clink and the two lock eyes in the moment.
They develop a deeper friendship and Stefan thinks there is something positively different about Bonnie that he can’t quite pinpoint. She even smells sweeter.
It’s remarkable how different she looks and acts because she seems so free and unbothered, and it’s not so much in her speech as it is in her behavior. He’s not even sure if she’s aware of it.
He feels this crush blossoming, the commencement of a stomach-fluttering infatuation. One that will have him journaling like an obsessive school girl. He could deny it, that gut-fluttering feeling, but he’s too self-aware. Stefan is a hopeless romantic, which can be his downfall, so he tries not to project anything on to Bonnie just yet because she could very well be uninterested. That would be devastating for him but he’s experienced worse.
How did Bonnie Bennett sneak up on him like this?
It’s only a week after that first date but this is his third time back on campus. He’s helping her study like a good friend would.
Caroline thinks the couple is a perfect demonstration of her observational skills and how thorough she is in match-making.
Damon is still very much unaware which is good because Stefan knows Damon. He won’t like this when he finds out.
He’s had his head so far away lately, Stefan notices, completely lost in his thoughts which is unlike him. Damon is starting to challenge his title for the brooding brother. Whatever is occupying his thoughts, that he’s already remotely refused to share, must be something serious.
Just as long as it keeps his focus elsewhere to prolong him from finding out about them- this. Their… friendship. Bonnie and Stefan. It has a nice ring to it.
Her nose is buried in a novel by Toni Morrison as Stefan discreetly observes her. His gaze traces the pensive expression on her face, clinging to the curve of her cheek, the tilt of her brows. Lower he drops his eyes to graze those shapely brown legs in the cutoff shorts before he returns to her face. He admires his latest discovery: the cute tension in her mouth that appears when she’s concentrating.
Bonnie is studying literature and the only subject he’s studying is her and he lets himself have this moment while she’s completely unaware so he can drink her in.
The ironic thing is that he has overlooked her so many times, never letting his mind linger on Bonnie for too long because, yes, she’s gorgeous but she’s also Elena’s friend. And Elena used to be his world. But now she isn’t and she hasn’t been for years. His eyes are opened, fully seeing the little witch for who she is, not what she can do or how many ways she can bend.
His cell phone buzzing breaks his concentration, he answers without looking at the caller identification because he knows it’s Damon.
“Why are you hanging out with Bonnie, brother?” He has an edge in his voice with a tone that is all but condemning.
How could he expect Damon to do anything other than sabotage a perfect moment in its prime?
“Is there a reason I can’t?” Stefan can feel his forehead maze. For the life of him he will never understand why Damon is like this. He knew he would react this way, being jealous and possessive. For centuries his brother makes his biggest insecurity prevalent, poking and prodding to see if the people he loves the most like Stefan more than him. It’s one hell of an inferiority complex.
Bonnie’s eyes are on him now. They remind him of lily pads, offset by her golden brown skin and dark brown hair. Put a Venetian red background behind her and she’s a walking Renaissance portrait. Her eyes shift to a distance behind him and he hears steps approaching.
“Well when you’re making googly eyes at my best friend, it makes me a little sick in the stomach.”
The sound is magnified, once through the receiver, and again in real life as Damon adds himself to the study session, putting a chair between him and Bonnie like a proper third wheel.
Stefan internally groans.
He’s wearing a gray t-shirt and dark jeans that he dusts off before actually seating himself. “What’s on the agenda today, folks?” He gives a tight smile, sending a quick death glare to Stefan. “I knew when I couldn’t get in touch with Bon Bon that she must be preoccupied.”
“Funny how you didn’t take the hint,” Bonnie jokes.
“You know I’ve never been one to listen, bestie. What’s he doing here?” He gestures to Stefan like he’s just a minor inconvenience and not a living, breathing, being.
“…Really?” Stefan lets out a grave sigh.
He goes unaddressed as Damon keeps his eyes on Bonnie.
“I’m studying, and Stefan is assisting.”
“We’re not in the mood for games, Damon. If you want to be involved, stop the interrogation and, i don’t know, be normal for once? I know it’s a bit of stretch.”
“Oh it’s a lot more than a ‘bit of a stretch’, Bon. I’m so far from normal it’s not even funny.” He props his arms behind his head and leans back in his seat.
“Damon. Why are you here?” he wants to extract him like a bad tooth.
“No, Stefan, the real question is why are you here? Last time I checked, I’m the one who gets to visit Bon Bon unannounced. That’s what friends are for. But you, you’re easily an acquaintance. Has something… changed?” There’s a peppering of accusation as he threads an eye line between Bonnie and Stefan.
She doesn’t even hear Stefan’s retort from the wave of thoughts that washes over her.
Everything about this moment is surreal. Having the first-hand experience of this ordeal feels like astral projection in which some godly thing snatched her mid-voyage and squeezed her into a shell of Elena. Only after a few minutes of bickering, Bonnie now sort of knows what it’s like to be put on a pedestal by the Salvatore brothers and she gets it. She finally understands why her sleeping friend would die for a power like this- to be loved like this.
And even angry, even at odds, the boys really are beautiful.
Elena must have felt like the world was in her palm, with two scarily attractive wrecking balls willing to destroy everything if it meant a smile on her face. She must have felt a little less human surrounded by unearthly handsome brothers who would fight for her and over her, changing everyone surrounding them for her namesake.
However, Bonnie doesn’t truly think she wants to be the host that this parasitical Salvatore thing attaches to next- simply being a bystander while it was directed to Elena left her life in ruins. She’s only just put the pieces back together, and god there were a lot.
Stefan in all his chivalry, she can sense his embarrassment to be related to such a hard ass, a slight fluster in his cheek is the one indication that he’s annoyed and frustrated. His Adam’s Apple bobs when he speaks, his jaw clenches a little too forcefully when he’s quiet, defense in those stony eyes; she’s never seen tension look so good. He’s the one you conjure when you think of the perfect knight for your fairytale ending because he fits. He’s what you were dreaming for since you were six and you realized, like your dolly, you need a prince. He’s the reward the heroes get in every story, the American Dream on legs. The fight, the struggle, the blood, sweat, and tears, you trudge through it all for a taste of goodness because it’s worth it. Stefan makes it worth it.
And then there’s Damon, the pain, the asshole who really grew on her because she never thought he could have a heart until he placed her in it. He knows just how to annoy Stefan, taunting him to break character so he isn’t in this word war alone. He always gets what he wants. The one who makes everyone uncomfortable with how effortlessly he flaunts his sex appeal, how carelessly he can trap you in fantasies of him. He awakens an insatiable ache between the legs that leaves you dripping, thinking of all the things you’re forbidden to do because someone like Damon is never yours. He’s the husband of, boyfriend of, best friend of, and it’s never you. A wink from those baby blue eyes is so promising but trying to catch him is like grasping air- he’s everywhere and nowhere at all but you fucking need him.
And she’s Bonnie. Not Elena, just Bonnie.
She would be a fool to think them fighting over her is the same as them fighting over Elena because it just isn’t. With Elena, it was different. They were caught in an intricate web of love, lust, and infatuation which was undoubtedly the recipe for disaster.
With Bonnie, they aren’t in love, they’re only bickering over her friendship.
And the thing about friendship, friendship is manageable, friendship is controllable, friendship she can handle.
Elena must have felt like the god of her own world with two hellish men devoting their lives to her safety and her harm, both the protector and danger rolled into one. How it must have felt to have friends and lovers die over her to come back and die again. To have people care for her like that without doing anything harder than existing.
Her sleeping Lena had heaven on earth while she had hell on wheels and Bonnie knows a friend she made in the underworld would tell her to live it up before she died again and no one bothered to bring her back.
In a truly twisted, ironic way, she misses that friend.
What if it’s time for the scales to rebalance and the things that fell apart must unite again?
Maybe the universe has handed her the baton and it’s time to start running.
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