Bonnie heard the thread of coldness in his voice, and when Damon turned back to Stefan and Elena, his face had hardened. It was as if some decision had been made.
"You see, I'm not like you," he said.
"It doesn't matter." Stefan had still not withdrawn his hand. Neither had Elena.
"And sometimes the good guys do win," Matt said quietly, encouragingly.
"Damon—" Bonnie began.
It was the voice he had both hoped to hear, and dreaded it.
He turned to her, almost reluctantly. Her wide brown eyes bore into his, and he felt as if she could see right into him. He could feel her probing into his mind, shifting through years of bitterness, searching for something he knew she won't find, for it never existed. He put his guard back up before she read too much.
If you ask me to stay, I will.
He looked back at Elena, perhaps the only one he had ever loved, in the depths of his cold black heart. He knelt to drape his jacket around her shoulders. It was a cold night- something to keep her warm, something to remember him by. His eyes met Stefan's for a moment.
Bonnie still hadn't said anything. She hadn't held out her hand for him, like Elena had. She didn't try to persuade him that he was something he knew he wasn't. She didn't tell him he was a saint, when he knew he was the sinner. He remembered how scared she used to be of him, and wondered if she wanted him to stay.
If you ask me to stay, I will.
But she didn't. He wanted to look at her for one last time, but he couldn't. He couldn't.
He flew away, without looking back even once. He could hear them rejoicing, they didn't need him, she didn't need him. But he wished she had asked, just for once. He would've stayed for her, if she had wanted.
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Nightsong
ספרות חובביםShe looks into the fire, and tries to remember what it stands for. Bravery, pride, life. She was not brave, she had nothing to be proud of, and somehow she'd never been able to let go of her fascination with death. A collection of fanfics, based on...
