Lost Souls
Nine.
It was Thursday, I was making my way home, and it was almost the end of the week. Now, I’m not particularly religious but hallelujah, praise Mother Mary and the Lord God!
Yes, I’m getting a little overdramatic but trust me, the exaggeration was needed.
I stepped in the house and smelt pizza.
“Oh honey, you’re home!”
Aw, a welcome home after an excruciating, pain in the ass day, how sweet.
Not really.
“I’m not your honey Damon, don’t call me that,” I said and pushed my way past him to the kitchen. My parents still aren’t home from the “trip” and what I had to suffer through? Damon. All evening, most of the night, even in the morning cooking me breakfast—pretty decent cook, that vamp—and I swear, the guy is the most immature person I’ve ever met. He pisses me off to the greatest extent.
And turns me on to an even greater one.
It’s fucking twisted I tell you! How is it that I can be annoyed and lusting after some dude all at once? It makes no sense and everything has just left me in this big cloud of confusion.
“Ouch, and here I, so thoughtfully, bought pizza because I knew my little schnukums would be hungry,” he came up to me and said. I scoffed. Schnukums my ass.
Picking up the box of pizza, I walked to the living room and took a seat on the ground. “Hm, what to watch?” I asked to myself. Damon sat next to me. Yeah, his closeness still affects me, but now I’m just so used to him being here, I got comfortable around him. And I know I should be worried sick about where my parents are and it seems ridiculous that I’m not ranting about it but honestly, I know Damon wouldn’t do that. Besides, he maybe super fast and super strong, but I know exactly where all the knives are in this house and I have a gist on how to castrate him.
“Well for one thing, if we’re watching a movie, I’m picking. Your taste in movies is crappy.”
Well sue me if I have an addiction to corny B rated movies.
“I can’t believe you’re asleep.”
I opened my eyes and I found myself resting my head against Damon’s arm, my own arm wrapped around his torso, hugging him. Oops. I pulled back my hand. Yawning, I looked at him. “Not my fault you pick boring movies. And you complain about my shitty movie choices? You’re so cocky and annoying and almost fun and these are the movies you pick? Sometimes, I think you do this just to annoy me. Or worse, maybe you just like me sleeping on you.”
“I’d rather you sleep with me.”
“And I’d rather I put you to sleep for good, but we all don’t get what we want,” I retorted and sat up. I grimaced. My back was aching from the way I was sleeping. I blame Damon. He was really comfy.
My heart pounded against my rib cage as I suddenly appeared in my room, in Damon’s arms. I glared at him. I will never get used to that.
Just like that, I was on my bed, my head resting against his chest and his arms, like steel tight bands, were around me.
“Stop wiggling, I’m trying to sleep.”
I clenched my teeth, the nerve of that jackass. “Maybe I want to sleep too.”
“Well, good, you should. Now relax and let’s go off to dreamland,” Damon murmured in my hair. I sighed, defeated. It's not like I could move anyway.
I closed my eyes and stayed on his chest but I couldn't seem to fully relax. We were so close and I could smell him, the scent of his cologne seeping through his t-shirt, could hear his heart beating, feel his muscles, defined...
"Her name was Katherine."
I stilled, and tensed even more—if possible.
“What?” I asked.
“Remember on Sunday you said that I must have some sort of story? Well her name was Katherine.”
Yes, I’m getting a little overdramatic but trust me, the exaggeration was needed.
I stepped in the house and smelt pizza.
“Oh honey, you’re home!”
Aw, a welcome home after an excruciating, pain in the ass day, how sweet.
Not really.
“I’m not your honey Damon, don’t call me that,” I said and pushed my way past him to the kitchen. My parents still aren’t home from the “trip” and what I had to suffer through? Damon. All evening, most of the night, even in the morning cooking me breakfast—pretty decent cook, that vamp—and I swear, the guy is the most immature person I’ve ever met. He pisses me off to the greatest extent.
And turns me on to an even greater one.
It’s fucking twisted I tell you! How is it that I can be annoyed and lusting after some dude all at once? It makes no sense and everything has just left me in this big cloud of confusion.
“Ouch, and here I, so thoughtfully, bought pizza because I knew my little schnukums would be hungry,” he came up to me and said. I scoffed. Schnukums my ass.
Picking up the box of pizza, I walked to the living room and took a seat on the ground. “Hm, what to watch?” I asked to myself. Damon sat next to me. Yeah, his closeness still affects me, but now I’m just so used to him being here, I got comfortable around him. And I know I should be worried sick about where my parents are and it seems ridiculous that I’m not ranting about it but honestly, I know Damon wouldn’t do that. Besides, he maybe super fast and super strong, but I know exactly where all the knives are in this house and I have a gist on how to castrate him.
“Well for one thing, if we’re watching a movie, I’m picking. Your taste in movies is crappy.”
Well sue me if I have an addiction to corny B rated movies.
“I can’t believe you’re asleep.”
I opened my eyes and I found myself resting my head against Damon’s arm, my own arm wrapped around his torso, hugging him. Oops. I pulled back my hand. Yawning, I looked at him. “Not my fault you pick boring movies. And you complain about my shitty movie choices? You’re so cocky and annoying and almost fun and these are the movies you pick? Sometimes, I think you do this just to annoy me. Or worse, maybe you just like me sleeping on you.”
“I’d rather you sleep with me.”
“And I’d rather I put you to sleep for good, but we all don’t get what we want,” I retorted and sat up. I grimaced. My back was aching from the way I was sleeping. I blame Damon. He was really comfy.
My heart pounded against my rib cage as I suddenly appeared in my room, in Damon’s arms. I glared at him. I will never get used to that.
Just like that, I was on my bed, my head resting against his chest and his arms, like steel tight bands, were around me.
“Stop wiggling, I’m trying to sleep.”
I clenched my teeth, the nerve of that jackass. “Maybe I want to sleep too.”
“Well, good, you should. Now relax and let’s go off to dreamland,” Damon murmured in my hair. I sighed, defeated. It's not like I could move anyway.
I closed my eyes and stayed on his chest but I couldn't seem to fully relax. We were so close and I could smell him, the scent of his cologne seeping through his t-shirt, could hear his heart beating, feel his muscles, defined...
"Her name was Katherine."
I stilled, and tensed even more—if possible.
“What?” I asked.
“Remember on Sunday you said that I must have some sort of story? Well her name was Katherine.”