Damon telling Bonnie she's his best friend, and that he would lose his mind if anything ever happened to her, and him saying she's stuck with him too.
Right after these clips when she says the heretics got out because of her and without hesitation he tells her that it wasn't her fault.
Them both feeling like if they had been there the town would have never been given over to Lily and the heretics in the first place, and Bonnie saying she's not afraid to stop Lily and that she wants to fight to get her town back.
Bonnie noticed it every time she came back, under the dust and the candle wax and the faint mustiness of old paper, there was still lavender and something warmer underneath, cinnamon maybe, the smell of Grams' hands after she'd been cooking. Six months, and the house hadn't let go of her yet. Bonnie wasn't sure if that was a comfort or a wound that wouldn't close.
She sat cross-legged on the floor of the study, the grimoire open in her lap, not reading so much as touching. Grams' handwriting slanted right in a way Bonnie's own never had, looping and certain, like she'd never once doubted a word she wrote down. Bonnie envied that. She doubted everything lately.
Her phone buzzed against the floorboards beside her. Elena.
hey are you coming tonight? we're doing the bonfire thing, everyone's asking about you
Bonnie stared at it for a long moment, then set the phone face-down without answering. It wasn't that she didn't want to see them. It was that she didn't have it in her to perform being fine for three hours by a fire while Caroline watched her with that soft, worried look and Elena tried to loop her back into whatever crisis was currently eating Mystic Falls alive. There was always a crisis. There was rarely room in it for Bonnie to just be sad.
A knock at the door pulled her out of it, not urgent, just two soft raps, and she knew before she opened it who it'd be.
"You didn't answer your phone," Jeremy said, holding up a paper bag that was already translucent with grease at the bottom. "So I brought bribery."
"It's not bribery if I already like you."
"Sure it is. Bribery just means I brought food. The liking you was optional." He stepped past her without waiting for an invitation, which she found she didn't mind from him the way she minded it from almost anyone else. He dropped onto the old couch in the study like he'd done it a hundred times, because he had. "Onion rings. Extra ones because I know you steal mine."
"I do not steal your onion rings."
"You have literally never once let me finish a serving of onion rings in your presence."
Bonnie huffed something that was almost a laugh, rusty, like she hadn't used the muscle in a while, and folded herself back down onto the floor next to him instead of the couch, close enough to reach the bag.
For a while neither of them said anything. That was the thing about Jeremy that she'd come to rely on more than she probably should admit out loud. He didn't fill silence just to fill it. He ate his fries and looked at the bookshelf, at the rows of dusty spines with Grams' careful labels on some of them, and didn't ask her if she was okay in that voice everyone else used now, the one that made okay sound like a foregone conclusion she was supposed to confirm.
"She used to yell at me for putting my feet on that couch," Bonnie said finally, nodding at it. "Every single time."
"Did you stop?"
"No."
Jeremy smiled, small and real. "Good."
It was easier with him. She'd tried to name why, exactly. Maybe it was that he'd buried people too, had sat in the exact particular quiet that comes after a funeral when everyone else has gone back to their lives and you're the only one still holding the weight of it. Elena grieved out loud, needed to talk it through, needed everyone in the room to feel the same size of sad she did. Caroline grieved by fixing things, by showing up with plans and playlists and well-meaning schedules designed to keep Bonnie too busy to spiral. Jeremy just sat with it. Let it be shapeless and heavy and didn't ask her to organize it into something presentable.
Her phone buzzed again. Then again. She didn't check it.
"That's gonna be Elena," Jeremy said, not quite a question.
"Probably."
"You gonna go?"
"Probably not."
He didn't push, which was, again, the entire point of him. "She means well," he said instead, like he could hear the guilt creeping in around the edges of Bonnie's silence. "She's just... Elena. Everything's a five-alarm fire with her, even the stuff that isn't."
"I know." Bonnie pulled the grimoire back into her lap, thumb tracing the edge of a page without opening it further. "I just don't have five-alarm energy left over right now. For anyone's fire but my own."
"Yeah." Jeremy stretched his legs out, bumping his sock foot against her knee, easy and familiar. "That's allowed, you know. Not having it."
She looked at him sideways. "Since when'd you get so wise."
"Since I buried more people than anyone our age should have to and had a lot of time to think about it." He said it lightly, no self-pity in it, just fact, the kind of thing you could only say flat like that once you'd actually made peace with it. "Turns out you learn things. Not fun things. But things."
Bonnie leaned her head against his shoulder, just for a second, and he let her, didn't make it weird, didn't ask what it meant. The grimoire sat closed in her lap. Outside, the sun was starting to go down, orange light catching the dust in the air, and for the first time in longer than she wanted to admit, the quiet in the house didn't feel quite so much like an accusation.
Her phone buzzed a third time. This one she checked, mostly out of guilt.
Elena: ok well if you change your mind. love you. miss you
She typed back a short love you too, not feeling it tonight and left it at that, ignoring the small twist of guilt in her chest, the sense that she was going to have to actually deal with Elena eventually, that avoidance had a shelf life.
But not tonight.
Tonight there were onion rings, and Jeremy's shoulder, and a house that still smelled like Grams, and that, for now, was enough.
She didn't know yet that three states away, a woman with her own name and her own blood in her veins had just crossed the Mystic Falls town line, an Original vampire trailing after her with his hands in his pockets and absolutely no idea, yet, what he was about to walk into.
I headcanon that because Rudy was away all the time and Grams likely worked on campus a lot (which seems to be at least an hour away from the town), Bonnie was signed up for a bunch of after school extracurriculars to make sure she wasn’t home alone all the time.
Kat Graham apparently knows French, Spanish and Portuguese, so I think it’s fitting that she would know a bunch of languages. Plus it probably would have helped her with all those spells.
The decision to americanize the salvatores, make them slave owners, have their era be during the civil war and have them be on the side of the confederacy was very interesting.
Bonnies's dad being protective of her and not wanting her to always be halping elena would hit differently if he was ever fucking around, I still do not understand the decision to not write bonnie's dad in the show up until now
Bonnie has lost her grandma, reunited with her mother and abandoned by her mother again yet her dad was no where to be found?
I heard one of the directors was racist, no wonder they had no interest in writing about bonnie's home life but they explored the home life of the white characters
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