Chapter 31

Damien's POV

"Damien!" She cried and burst into tears, covering her mouth and shivering.

I didn't even get the chance to complete my statement as she paced, cursing herself.

"What have I done!"

She ran her fingers through her hair falling to my feet, confused and holding my legs.

"Please don't die!" She begged, rubbing her palms together like a prayer.

I melted softly, just lost in her panicking state, and goosebumps grasped me.

"Won't you be happy?" I muttered, not taking my eyes off her, not minding my injured chest, which still sent pangs of pain to my head.

It's just her. And when I saw those eyes peeping from outside, I wanted her inside with me, to taunt her a little.

Or maybe that's not the reason. Maybe I just wanted her close and even when Dayla was here to fill up that space, I still thought of her.

"Just shut up, please," she yells like she'd pass out again, interrupting my thoughts.

Her hands flew to my cheeks next as she shook her head. She was standing now.

"Is there a cure? Something, please, there should be!"

If I lied to get this reaction, I'd keep doing it, to see her reaction, to get her worked up, and see the emotions she was trying to hide from me.

I shook my head, heaving a sigh and feeling bad for what I said.

She gasped, fresh tears poured from her eyes, and I felt so scared that she might tear her eyes out.

Rosie suddenly began to hit her chest with closed eyes, screaming.

"It's my fault! It's my fault!"

I stopped her by holding her hands and shaking her, but it looked like she was the one dying, not me.

"I deserve to die, if only we didn't meet," she furthers so weakly, and I yank her closer to me, trying to console her.

I quickly brushed her scattered hair away just to see her eyes; they were rimmed red, and I hated myself immediately.

She was writhing in my arms, shaking her head, and swearing.

"Rosie! It's a lie!" I quickly said, but it's like she wasn't listening.

"It's a lie!"

"I have to tell you the truth, Damien...about our first night," she said, still in tears.

"You deserve to know the truth..."

I became speechless as my grip on her softened. I was intrigued to know the truth, which she suddenly wanted to speak.

She looked exhausted, her head down, and then when she lifted it, her expression changed.

"Did you just say it's a lie?" She asked, her tears dried up immediately as she fluttered her eyes at me.

"Yes...no... no," I said, confused and more thrilled to know the truth she was serious about.

She broke out of my grip and her eyes were glaring down.

"You lied!" She screeched and before I could reply, her fists had landed on my shoulders.

Not another hit from her.

"How could you lie? You made me think...argh!" She roared, not even knowing what to say, as she flailed her hands in anger in my face.

"You wanted to tell me something?" I was reminded of ignoring the fact that she had flared up.

"You joked about your life! Did you find it funny?" She roared and for a moment, I felt my mother was yelling at me for doing something stupid again.

I felt small in her sight as she scolded me. To be sincere, I heard no sound as I only watched her lips move and I wanted to hold them, to keep quiet.

The next thing, there was a loud thud which left me breathless.

Damn it! She has passed out!

***

I placed her head gently on the pillow. I shouldn't have done that when she just went through a trauma of morphing.

Rather than having her treat me, I'm doing it again.

When she passed out, I panicked, calling out for my doctor who was just outside waiting, as though he knew I'd be needing him any time soon.

Fortunately, she was fine, according to him, but a little stressed as she needed some rest.

He finished up the stitches on me and then I felt that place with her, to my room.

How she sleeps peacefully, like there are no worries in line. I let out a sad smile as I covered her properly on the bed with a thick duvet.

I wrote a letter and kept it under her pillow, then gently plastered a sticky note on her forehead.

That way she gets to see the note. I left her there to use the bathroom, purposely delaying just so she would wake up to see me naked.

But I can tell she's a sleeping beauty. I let out a smile, just thinking of her face makes my heart flutter and she's so dramatic.

Watching her squiver around in fear and that look in her eyes that expresses fear.

She did that, just for me.

I came out with a towel, scanned her face, and I'm certain she wasn't sleeping.

Her eyelids are shaking, and her breathing is fast as she's forcing herself not to wake up.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes and wanting to see how long she'd hold it in.

Even when I intentionally poured the water on my hair on her face, she stayed that way.

I kissed my teeth, not wanting to break her composure, and left for my walk-in closet to dress up.

Once I was done, I returned to the room to take my phone from the table beside the bed, as I was expecting a message.

It came in a text that says;

"Found him"

I gnashed my teeth, staring at the two words that could end a life today.

Another text came in, and I sucked my breath, thrilled by the cold feet I was developing.

It's an address, one that will decide the date of the occupants.

Tugging my phone into my pants' pocket, I took a glimpse at her, coldly while drawing in a long breath.

It's time to get bloody.