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They are not the kind of couple who hold hands.
They are the kind who argues a lot, teases each other to the breaking point and then proceeds to have ridiculously hot, unrestrained sex to resolve the tension they build up.
Damon likes it that way- he likes that Bonnie never lets him off easy over anything, and he likes it even better that he is the only one (or at least the best) capable of drawing out the fierce little monster that hides deep inside her.
He loves that kissing his witch awakens this utterly sexual heat in every inch of his body and he never feels quite as raw as after he has spent an exhausting night in her bed.
He thinks hand holding is overrated. Damon swore he was done with 'gentle' and 'cute' the moment he realized that all of Elena's hugs and soft-voiced professions of friendship were nothing but a well disguised hook meant to keep him hanging.
Yet…
It bugs him that Bonnie never bothers with girly romantic rubbish where he is concerned. It's insulting that she never tries to force him to be more boyfriend-like when she has no problem bossing him around about whatever else.
It almost makes him feel like a cheap dirty secret, even if their fling is pretty much public.
Why is he even obsessing about this shit anyway?
It's her fault, obviously. Because last evening when they were walking, talking about nothing of importance, her hand casually brushed his – twice! And she was smiling in that sunny, soft way she sometimes had and for a moment he worried she would take his hand and entwine their fingers.
But she did not.
At first, Damon was relieved.
Yet after she was gone, when he was left alone replaying their so called date inside his head and congratulating himself for sidestepping the danger …he found himself wondering why she had not seized the chance to push his buttons.
It's not like he wants to be bothered with romantic clichés and whatever else. Even with Katherine, back when he was human, there was nothing of the sort. Perhaps he was thinking about it now because she saved the public displays of affection for Saint Stefan, or perhaps it's because gentlemanly behaviors seemed to stir a mocking, subtly condescending side of her (unless it came from Saint Stefan).
Bonnie is different: she is a sentimental little thing, and unlike her bestie, she means all she promises.
So she should want to hold his fucking hand.
But let the witch suit herself: he doesn't care. At all.
The first time he holds her hand is two days after, and Bonnie is sleeping, in his bed, naked, curled against her side with her dark hair fanned on his pillow.
Damon thinks she looks particularly attractive like that, but in a way that makes him want to wake her up with bold and inappropriate caresses to her most sensitive spots.
Her hand is just there, on the pillow, close to her visage. He takes it just to move it away, because he has a sudden impulse to look at her sleeping face better…but he doesn't let it go.
Her hand feels small and warm clasped inside his, and it gives him a weird feeling (protective, possessive, grateful, and something else).
Before Damon can shake himself out of whatever came over him, Bonnie stirs languidly under his sheets and discloses sleepy, hazel-green eyes on him.
"Hey," she mutters, half-smiling, and then glances at their joined hands and blinks like she is questioning what she sees.
He feels heat creeping up his neck as he tries to pull his hand away. Obviously, Bonnie won't allow it.
"Damon, are you blushing?"
He doesn't bother answering her.
Him, blushing? That will never happen. He hasn't blushed since Katherine, and even then he was mortified by his reaction.
Except he suspects she might be right. Damn – all of his face feels like it's on fine.
Just to make the situation more humiliating, Bonnie giggles heartedly, fully awake by now, and then she draws his hand toward her more forcefully, interlacing her fingers with his.
He might use his vampire strength to his advantage, just to prove how laughable her attempt at a vice-like grip to restrain him is, but she kisses his knuckles and confuses him again.
He might swear her lips have left an imprint on his skin.