There is never a time or place for true love.

It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.

-Sarah Dessen

She met his eyes from across the room and Bonnie contemplates whether she has ever laid eyes on anything more beautiful. Strange. It was strange how she thought of him as beautiful. A man. A supposed...monster. Was that not what he called himself? He had told her that, yelled it in a panicked moment and in a ragged voice she could only conjure to be desperate...almost as if he were trying to plead with her, scare her away and let himself drown in another disappointment. Bonnie had come to know that everyone ran in the line of danger, at the first crackle of thunder but she was never one to run. Yes there had been countless moments in her existence where she had been frightened and fearful but on occasions that far outweighed those where her demons had controlled her, she had been the one feared...a force to be reckoned with. She understood the driving need to disclose oneself away from people having met with disappoint on one too many occasions that would otherwise render her faithless and distrustful; that would make her believe the world was full of light as it was of dark. She understood the fear of being used and the want of something genuine. She also understood the prefix of a mask and how easily one could force those around them to feel it and be consumed by it. Was that not what she did, day after day? Plaster a smile on her face, divulge in light banter, take her cup of tea with ease and welcome misfortune like a beloved enchanter there to don warmth to her shattered soul with arms wide open. She recognized it, that longing that was never fed and could never be satisfied. The feeling had been in her since childhood and she was always cold, so cold that her insides never melted fully...no matter how close she got to the fire.

She knew him, they recognized each other like similar souls noticed auras she supposed. They were drawn to each other. Something had changed in her that night, when she had stumbled upon him in the secluded gallery connected to the old fashioned theatre that had the biggest ballroom in Mystic Falls; still antique and sung of a time gone by. It was supposed to be a moment no one was supposed to witness, she had grown to understand, as the memory played again and again in her mind. He had stood there with his hands in his tux, relaxed and staring at a canvas, she herself had always been drawn too. Bonnie had never understood it, but she had never told anyone about her secret pleasure she had gotten from sitting in the center of the room, facing it. She had befriended the staff that laced the premise and they had grown attached with the witch's seemingly uncontrollable desire and infatuation with the painting. Hours would pass with her just sitting there staring intently, her magic reeving to life and singing in her veins as the colors and feelings...vibes waved off of it and called her. There was a desperation within it and there was something in her, raw and true, that wanted to cling onto it and allow it to suck her into its world.

It was a long canvas encased in a wooden frame sculpted in wrapping slopes and curves that started, intertwined and never ended but it failed in comparison to what it encased. It was a canvas that seemed to be layered, there were rays of sunshine and pure light covered in angry, rushed slopes of black...darkness that threatened to take over in a sweeping smoke. The brush strokes were thicker, more pronounced and jagged and the overall effect made her believe she could easily peel it away and reveal the beauty beneath it. It was part of the allure, that desperation to know what was beneath and the yearn in knowing that she could never know because the darkness crowded it, lathered on and hid it from prying eyes. Something told her that that was exactly what the artist had hoped for...security...against what she had yet to know.

She remembered their conversation and the way his eyes followed her and drank her in. They haunted her like nothing had ever before. Perhaps because they were the most delicious shades of tumbling, endless coats of azure she had ever laid her virgin eyes on. Or perhaps it was the way they relaxed and bore into her, touching her in a way that made her tremble whenever she dreamed of them; her whole body rippling in waves of electric volts that surged and awakened a deep hunger...desire...

"Interesting isn't it?" she had murmured, not sure what to do with herself and unable to move...leave like she knew she should have. She was not supposed to talk to him, she had warned herself and hardened her resolve when Caroline and Elena had mentioned how menacing he was. Yet there was something about him that made her feel grounded, relaxed, if not slightly live-wired from the intensity that radiated off of him like waves, wrapping around her and intoxicating her. Was she really the only one who felt so inclined towards him?

"How about you tell me what you think of it" he offered, smiling. It was a predatory smirk that told her he knew no other way to smile but it was friendly enough to not put her on edge. She shuddered and shrugged, sighing when too many words rushed to mind but none "enough" to describe what she felt.

"Infuriating! Its...there's just something about the brush strokes. Under them, there's something that I feel is just within reach...hidden and just needs a little examination to be seen but then...the overlay...it's angry and vengeful and it's infuriating to know that a simple coat of dark can just obscure it all" she muttered and then shook her head. She looked over at him only to find him looking at her and her breath caught. She was certain he heard the hitch in her throat but they were beyond such trifle details and onto something much more. Eyes weren't supposed to be so raw and focused...so intimate. They broke contact on par, just as her heart welled up and she realized she had forgotten to breath.

"For once I finally think someone understands the method to my madness." He had left then, the air shifting from the crackling tension between them and cooling only to leave her with an ache at the core of her being and a want...need...for something...

It isn't until later on, when she was in the safety of her room that Bonnie realized what he meant. He was the artist. Her mind had fogged as the realization settled in and she understood why it had pulled her to it. There was something about the man himself, the way he lived and hungered and thirst that drove her to seek him out. She just wanted to sit and look at him, observe him and peel away his layers like clothing.

That was then and she snapped out of her daze as a waiter brushed her by and offered her a drink. Declining she looked over to where he had held her captivated and knew he was gone before her eyes landed on the empty spot. Turning, she moved to leave as well, unsure of why she had stayed in the first place.

"Don't you know that pretty, green eyed witches aren't supposed to walk in a dark, deserted area all alone at night?" it was a husky tease that drew her out of her thoughts as she buttoned up her jacket and decided to take the time to admire the scenery. She smiled and shivered when he brushed near to her side, finally emerging from the shadows to grant her company.

"Is there something I should be threatened by?" she responded, equally teasing and he cocked a brow in good humor, keeping with their act.

"It depends. You don't seem like the faint hearted type."

"That's because I'm not, I have seen enough or at least I think I have to know when I'm safe."

"Safe is a bit of a hefty word love, especially when in the presence of the ever unpredictable original hybrid" he murmured closely and she laughed. Actually laughed. His fingers itched to brush at her lips, search them and explore their depths, to see what made them turn up so easily. How was it that she smiled so warmly, so much so that it crawled into her mossy green and molten gold irises and made then almost as irresistible as their owner herself? He wondered if their warmth would ever fade and shook, hoping they never did. There was something about them that made him want to bury his soul in her or whatever remnants were left of it anyhow. That feeling alone alarmed him but he marveled in the exhilarating high her presence gave him. It was a form of aphrodisiac that he had never experienced before and part of it he knew was from her scent. It was extremely rare and unique, her magic part of the reason it stood out. She was earthy, like the scent after rainfall and then there was that lulling mix of vanilla and lavender, almost as if she bathed in it. Then there was the scent of her magic, just beneath the thin layer of her flesh, coursing through her veins like her blood. It was an intoxication that made his thirst to drawn near, nuzzle his face into her neck and inhale like it was his very first breath almost uncontrollable. He imagined his lungs opening and constricting as he took in her scent and as it floated into his system, drugging him and making his heart beat again.

The scent of rain hit them both at the very same instant a crack of thunder sounded above their heads and she laughed, a velvety sound that made the vein under his navel and lower abdomen jump to attention. She stopped and he stopped with her, watching as she waited, anticipating the first rain drop.

"Mystic Falls hasn't had rain in a long time" she murmured softly and as the first burst of the storm hit them full on she gasped in what could only be pure delight. Rain fell down on them hard and fast, in curtains of thick water that drenched them instantly and he still watched on, dazed at her cooing over something as petty as rainfall. Yet he knew that feeling, of being drenched and washed anew, the pour of water from the heavens directly onto the body almost like a salving balm to sooth his troubles, his wounds and make him forget for a while...that innocent green eyed witches should not be trusted with the dark prince...the man unworthy of love...the bastard...the mistake...

Her eyes opened and focused on him before he could disappear on her and the way she looked reassured him that there was no other place that called to to him more than where he was. She shouldn't have been looking at him like but she was and he watched her with hunger, hoping that she would take the chance and back away but she just stood there and watched him watch her. She moved closer and at the loud booming sound of thunder crackling she flinched. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her flush against him, watching in amusement as her eyes widened.

Virgin.

Sweet.

Pure.

He released her. He wasn't right for her. She was light where he was dark and he couldn't...

Her lips on the space that occupied the corner of his mouth drew him back and there was a cord somewhere within him that strummed to life and it jolted him. It was then that she moved to consume his lips and before he knew it, he was being consumed by something so foreign that it both alarmed and warmed him. And it was then that it came to him...

She could make him...good...