When A Dove Begins To Fly With Crows [Bamon]

Three More Evenings

The crow clicked its beak.

"And yesterday, he appeared again, when I was studying witching lessons in the front yard."

A delicate blush graced her cheeks and she suddenly looked away shyly. "He offered to help me with my witching lessons. He...kissed me." The last words she whispered as she lowered her gaze. The bird kept watching her with its beady eyes, compelling her to go on. "It felt nice. In fact, it was the best kiss I have ever had, but I also don't understand why. Why does he keep showing up? What does he want with me? Does he want to use me again? Somehow it doesn't feel that way. It almost feels like...he wants to be with me, in spite of Elena. That doesn't make any sense though. Why me? Is it my blood? I know that he longs for my blood..."

Her expression momentarily darkened at the thought but then she gave the crow an amused grin. "I think that my powers spice it up a bit."

The croaks the crow let out now definitely sounded like human laughter, and Bonnie's smile widened to a grin. She cupped her hands around the bird and shivers of pleasure went through its little body at her careful touch.

She sighed. "Is it possible to loathe and even hate somebody, while at the same time you feel a flutter in your heart the moment that he lowers his guard for you - the only witch in town, the one person he's bound to protect..."

The bird in her hands had become completely still as her voice trailed away, its black gaze fixed on the young witch's lovely features. It croaked softly.

Bonnie looked down on her pet bird, one of her curls falling onto its equally dark feathers and she chuckled softly. "What a pair we are. The witch and her crow. The only thing we'll still need is a black cat."

The crow called indignantly, causing Bonnie to grin. "I already thought so. But it was worth a try."

Ruffling its feathers, the crow settled down on her palms and looked up at her contently. For a few peaceful moments, they sat in silence as a full moon rose in the east. Then Bonnie looked down and slowly withdrew one of her hands from the crow's body, lifting it up.

The crow noticed her movement and his beady eyes nervously followed her hand hovering over him.

"Hush," Bonnie whispered calmingly. "Don't worry. I only want to touch you."

Her fingers gingerly brushed its black feathers and, when the crow didn't back away, she added some more pressure to her caresses trailing down from its little head to its back.

The crow started to relax and pulled in its neck, basking in the witch's caresses.

Bonnie only withdrew her hand when a pair of headlights slowly approached the house. Opening its almost closed eyes, the crow slightly flapped its wings in her hand, in silent protest.

"It's time for you to leave," she whispered regretfully, "but there's always tomorrow evening."

The crow hopped from her hands and onto the windowsill, ruffling its feathers. Then it flew up and unexpectedly landed on her shoulder. Sharp claws suddenly dug into her skin and the crow brushed his smooth beak against her earlobe, giving it an affectionate nibble.

When her crow took off and disappeared into the darkness Bonnie stared after it, wide-eyed and with a smile on her face.

Seventh Evening

                       The following evenings, the crow returned like before. It loved to nestle in her cupped hands and enjoy the feeling of her fingers caressing it. Sometimes, though, it went to sit upon her shoulder as she leaned against the window frame and it made that alluring, purring sound whenever she lifted her hand to stroke its smooth, bluish-black feathers.