I get out of the Uber and drag my ass inside my residence. Curse that jerk for making look and feel like total crap! And curse my father for his bellicosity, which wrecks happiness and my peace! Screw those dummies I call my friends. Screw everyone, fuck the whole world!
It seems like I am all alone in this world now since I can't vouch that Grace won't do exact thing Rose and Sherry are doing to me in case my father reaches out to her.
Life really sucks!
I fish out my key upon lunging at my door and unlock it, hauling myself inside. I lock door behind me and scamper for the light socket with my hand on the wall. I press switch, and the lights glisten, illuminating the room. I turn around, weighing to have a cold drink first or a hot shower. My two remedies, which I cannot vouch for, will not help at all. There are pains that just have no remedy. You just to bear with them until they disappear on their own. And what I am going is one of them.
Flinging around, my feet latch onto their tracks instantly after I do so. A duo of the bottomless, dingy brown pools are flaming at me from the couch.
I had to take long, countless blinks just to make sure that I was not hallucinating. It is my weak, expectant brain playing tricks with me. But after repeating the therapy times, this figure is still staring at me.
What the heck!
He is not supposed to be here. He cannot be here.
Another series of closing and opening my eyes follows, hoping that my eyes are me. But all ends in vain. The jerk is really here, in my house.
By the looks, he only made a stop at a bar parlor after leaving my shop earlier, only to the John Walker bottle of whiskey that is lying on the table almost half empty.
He is in the same bureaucrat suit, with the coat and tie lying on the couch.
Is my house a bar now? What the fuck is he doing here? More absurdly, it is not how is serenely sprawled in a figure-four posture, savoring his liquor like a king in his , but his audaciousness and sickening bravery in showing up here after he did. I think this key exchange was a horrible idea.
"Hi!" He hoarses, setting the empty glass on the table, and I can't help but gawk at as he boosts his accentuates to me again, licking the sweet taste of alcohol from lips.
Sweet, my cold sh*t!
Like a zombie, I find myself trudging my legs towards him, our eyes confronting each . "What on fuck are you doing here, Damian? I thought we were done. And I it clear that you disgust me, so..."
"Are you sure?" His voice is raw and cold, as always. He slowly springs to his feet starts towards me in slow-tallied strides like a lion taming a deer.
I tense as his complexion swaggers through the air until he towers above me, me with his hypnotizing sweet pheromones. His eyes are not leaving mine.
He is cognizant of how he makes me weak. He discerns the intensity of his allure on , and I am afraid I can't mask how he affects me even now that I am on the verge of his neck. He is like a combo of sweet pain and painful pleasure right now.
"I dare you to look me in the eyes, Ellie, and repeat that with all honesty. Come on!"
He shoves his hands in his pockets, racking up at me with so much vigor that it leaves flabbergasted and worried about where the alcohol settled in his system.
I peep him in the eyes, albeit with so much vulnerability. His stare is demeaning, and being this close isn't doing me any good either.
All the same, come what may, after this, I amass all the remaining pieces of bravery me and speak, "You do, Damian! You make me sick! You make me want to puke,"
I shoot, and I would be fibbing if I said he was incensed by my utterances. On the , the jerk seems annoyingly tickled.
It seems like what I just said is the most humorous thing he has heard today, if not in his entire life. His irises are twinkling with a dazzling glow that I had not until now, and his luscious lips are scrunched up into a vast, lush sneer that his long, pearly white teeth. Perhaps the firewater is doing its magic. Yeah, may be the case!
He releases a giggle, and momentarily, his ability to camouflage parades its prowess. I find myself entrapped between his muscular arms and his rock-like physique he abruptly falls icy. My bag drops to the ground, and I take a defensive posture by my hands to his chest. His move was so swift, more like wolf speed, that it ’t allow me to do a thing or even sense it.
I should be howling at him or battling to break out of his grip, but instead, I am just , wilting and quivering in his arms. My breathing is labored, and my heart is heavily.
He plucks his right hand away from my back, grabs hold of my chin, and jerks my up toward his. I let forth a faint groan! I have no idea why I am still melting, right now.
"That is not what your eyes imply, sweet little Ellie!" My face turns red from the ears my nose at his last words. I am in heat—deep shit heat. "Deny that even with this burning in your beautiful eyes, I am still able to turn you on. You are trembling my arms, and it's not with anger but lust, baby, am I wrong?"
My heart stops! Everything does, even my breathing. He knows me so well—perhaps more to my liking. He knows that I fucking want him as much as I scorn him now. He knows just how much control he has over me. He knows how fragile I before him. This feeling is sweet in all aspects, stronger than my defenses, and I afraid this will ruin me completely—this man here, Damian Almeda, will be my .
I close my eyes as I collapse into him. My knees can't support me anymore.
I was anticipating a different reaction from him. He probably howled to get my or to summon my response, but he did the opposite. He releases my chin, he nonchalantly lowers my head to rest on his chest while thrusting his hand into hair.
I don't break down. Not even a single tear drops. Crying would be too exhausting for . For several minutes, he strokes my skull in a soothing motion as I snooze on his broad chest. Suddenly, something caused me to snap out of it.
"I am so sorry!” He speaks, closes his eyes, and tightens his grip on me. “Sorry, Ellie!”