DAMON'S POV
Whenever I have Bonnie Bennett in my arms, she's unconscious.
I would love to say this is an effect I have on her but, unfortunately, whenever she lacks air, it's because of supernatural reasons.
This, however, is the first time I'm holding her in my arms that I actually care for her well being. I pay special attention to her head, so it doesn't drop from my shoulder. One of my arms is under her knees, and the other one is supporting her spine. I've settled her arms on top of her body, so they don't hang as I carry her.
I've never noticed how light she is. How small in my arms she seems. Like a little bird. But a strong, gracious one.
Even now, asleep like this, her expression seems determined. Bonnie, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders even in her dreams.
Always protecting others, pushing herself over her own, well established limits, never putting herself first.
Naive Bonnie, doesn't she know that caring never gets you anywhere? It only gives people the idea they're allowed to push and pull you as they please. Doesn't she know that's what get you killed? She should know, better than anyone.
It's something I've always wondered about her. Why does she let people treat her like they do? She walked over some things I've said to her so lightly, things I wanted to kick myself for. She holds so much power, she could have bent each and every one of us to her will. But she never did.
No, I guess she never would. She would never abuse her power. She's not interested in gaining respect if it doesn't come from a true place.
She's not like me. She's so much better than me.
She's so much better than all of us.
Jacob and Elena are right behind me, basically stepping on my heels, watching closely as I walk down the stairs with Bonnie in my arms. Like I'm going to drop her any second now. Like I'm going to run outside and set her body on fire in the middle of the day, just for fun.
I lower her body on the sofa in the library, on the same sofa she used to sit and watch me play before she felt comfortable enough to sit on the stool beside me. I wonder how did that happen, Bonnie Bennett feeling comfortable around me, and why did I allow it to happen.
We stand there in silence, watching her sleep, feeling like we're experiencing some weird déjà vu. Not so long ago we were in the same position. Not so long ago she was lying there, same determination coloring her features, and we were hovering over her, helplessly. Well, they were. I was busy getting dumped. And drunk. And playing melancholic melodies no one gives a rat ass about.
I cross my arms over my chest and inhale deeply, thinking about where to go from here, which is when Jacob says, "You must be pretty annoyed with her, Damon, causing problems while constantly trying to protect us." he says as if he's challenging me to admit otherwise. As if he knows I'm actually annoyed by my inability to help her, by the lack of knowledge of why she's in this state again.
I'm also annoyed with her because she's constantly trying to help, to protect, but not because of the consequences it has on me, but on her.
But right now, more than ever, I'm annoyed by the fact her well being has become an issue for me.
Something in me snaps, finally, bringing me to reality. I look Jake in the eyes and smirk, like I always do, "The mere fact that she breaths irritates me, my brother." I say coldly.
I meet Elena's look, just for a fracture of a second, and in her eyes I find so much disgust directed towards me. I want to reach into her eyes for all that disgust so I can make a rope out of it and choke myself with it.
