Hooky Damien Novels & Stories

“I heard you were one of them.” Damien’s smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes darkened. “Flattery will get you in trouble, sweetheart.” She chuckled, inching closer, her fingers ghosting over the lapel of his jacket. “Maybe I like trouble.” She paused, letting the tension build before whispering, “Tell me, Damien… what’s your history with the Hendrix family?” The shift was subtle, but Ivy saw it—the brief hesitation, the way his fingers stiffened slightly around his cigarette before he took another slow drag.

Lucky them. Grabbing a packet of chocolate and a tin of diet coke, I walked pass the group of dorks who were busy eating whilst talking about god knows what. Escaping my regular table, I sat in the far left corner, opposite to them. I placed a pair of earphones in my ears, the song---If only by Dove Cameron blasting through it. Suddenly my peace was interrupted by a manipulative bitch. Arching an eyebrow, I tried to read the words that sprouted out of her mouth.

Avery quietly cleared her throat and stabbed at her food, pretending not to listen. Damien finally broke the tension with a laugh. “Relax, Smith,” he said. “You know I’m joking. I wouldn’t dare steal your leading lady. I like my head where it is.” Liam’s eyes narrowed. “Not funny.” Damien stood, smoothed his jacket and glanced at his watch. “Excuse me,” he said with an easy smile. “Need to make a quick call. Enjoy your meal.”

Damien. I sit and pick at my food, watching the city below. Humans drive home from work, crowd into buses, laugh on sidewalks. They have problems—bills, bosses, relationships—but none of them know what it feels like to have your soul ripped in half in front of a room full of people. Lucky. The study door opens. Damien steps out, jacket off now, white shirt rolled up at the sleeves. There’s ink on one of his forearms—a dark, intricate design that disappears under the cuff.

I rub my face and run my fingers through my hair. The guard takes off his helmet and his dark green eyes are the first thing I notice, he removes his balaclava, and his face appears, tanned skin, and soft yet defined facial features, he had to at least be 28 years old or younger. “What’s your name?” I ask. “Damien, Damien Harris sir,” he says holding out his hand and I shake it firmly. “Well Damien, thank you so much for helping me you will be awarded for your assistance.’’

It took me a second before I remembered that I actually gave a strange man my number earlier. “Damon?” I asked slowly. I couldn’t really remember his name because I had a lot of things going through my head at that point when he took my number. He chuckled lightly. “Damien. Damien Cross.” He corrected me, his voice gentle. “How are you doing? I just wanted to make sure the number wasn’t fake. I pursed my lips tightly, not knowing if I should be amused or irritated. “It’s real.” “Good.” He responded, his voice smooth. “I didn’t catch your name.” He added with a hint of curiosity in his voice.

This time, her voice carried just a little more weight. “Anytime,” he replied. There was a pause. Not long. Just enough to feel like something was about to be said, but hadn’t yet. Damien shifted slightly, his hands moving back into his pockets as he looked at her—not intensely, not in a way that made it uncomfortable, just… present. He hesitated. It showed, just a little. Then he spoke. “Uhmm… can we hang out later?” The words were simple. No long explanation. No pressure behind them.

His hand moved the mouse across the screen like he was checking the weather. “Your calmness is scary, you know,” she said. “I expected you to be… panicking. Or… something.” Tim didn’t look away from the screen. “I’m saving this energy for tomorrow. There’s one person that needs it more than me.” She saw it then, redness in his eyes. But she didn’t push. ********* Damien yawned as he rubbed his neck. His throat was dry. He picked up the kitchen phone and rang the line. No answer.

"Your love-bite.." "What??" I streaked and all the eyes turned towards me and i muttered a sorry, sipping on my tea. Once i was sure that everyone indulged back in their talks, i turned to Harini again. "Have you lost it?" "Its nothing wrong dude. Lets sign a deal, if i ever forget to hide my hickey, you will inform me. And i will inform you if you forget to do the same. What say?" She proposed in whisper. "No dummy..you mistook me. I cannot have a hickey!"

He looked at his phone and smiled. Since his friend, Dean knew of his love for Arya, he had been trying to pair them up. Him calling, asking him to be Arya’s romance counselor was just another third wheel moment. “Sir Damien, should I drop you off and go to Mr. Ernest Stark to give him more wedding details?” Butler Jim asked while he drove. Damien looked up from his phone. “Yes please, do that.” “Very well, would you call me when you want me to pick you up?” Butler Jim asked again.