𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎 - 𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝙸𝚗 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎

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"(Y/N)?" Someone called behind me. I slowly turned away from the barista. Damien. I sighed and quickly grabbed my coffee, placing a ten dollar bill onto the counter as I thank them, quickly walking away. I felt him grab at my arm gently as he pulled me to himself, "What are you doing?" I bit my tongue and looked past him, I didn't want to do this now.

"Coffee." I quickly sputtered out, then taking a sip. I ignored the fact that my tongue was on fire from the hot liquid, "What do you need? I'm one-hundred percent sure I'm still on excused personal leave."

"You're not going to therapy?" He frowned, "You haven't gone once, why aren't you going?"

"I don't need to." I softly giggled, "I'm perfectly fine. I didn't suffer from anything, I'm fine."

"You were in a shooting-"

"You were shot, Damien!-"

"You watched the whole thing, (Y/N)." He shouted. He noticed the attention he grabbed from other people, and pulled me into a more private area, "That's pretty traumatizing and you know it. I saw your face when...you know."

I held a hand up to silence him, and waltzed away from him, trying to make as much distance as possible. I did not want to talk about this today, nor tomorrow. But it didn't take long before Damien had jogged up to my side, grabbing onto my hand, yet he didn't say anything. I felt a warm spot arise in my chest as I felt the warmth from his hand. This was strange.

"You really need therapy, (Y/N)." He whispered.

"No, I'm alright." I sighed, "Really, I am. I don't need it."

"You have dark circles under your eyes." Damien pointed out.

I jerked myself away from him, embarrassed that I let that side of me show. He caught me in a lie. Maybe I did need it? Would it be selfish?

"Your trauma is no different from anyone else. You experienced something terrible too."

"Damien." I called, a little more angry than usual, "I'm fine. I don't need anything-"

"Then you're not coming back to work, till you're cleared by a therapist."

My heart sunk to a pit in my stomach. No work, no money. I scratched my arm roughly and sighed, nodding in agreement. He smiled, "Good. And since your not sleeping very well, we will fix that too."

"How?" I questioned.

"You'll come stay with me, of course. And I'll take care of you. Make sure you eat and sleep."

"No, I couldn't." I shook my head, "No, Damien, I'm sorry."

"You can't sleep, (Y/N). That's a problem. So, you'll stay at my manor. And that way I know you're going to therapy like you should."

"Only for a week then." I demanded, "It's weird to stay at your boss's manor."

"Maybe, but that's what is best right now." He smiled. I shrugged softly and continued my walk, Damien trailing behind me. Guess I better get some crap from my apartment.

Damien smiled to me as he shoved the dark key into the doorknob, gently twisting it open, "I do have to inform you, I only have one bedroom."  I laughed at his tiny joke, but his face said that he was being more than serious. I wiped the smile from off my face, "Are you serious?"

"(Y/N). Do you see my home? I have plenty of rooms, more than I would ever need, sadly." We both laughed. Damien pushed the door open and held it open for me to step inside. I haven't been here for a while. I heard shuffling from the kitchen. The chef, probably.

"The kitchen is there, and the bathroom-"

"I remember." I smiled as I told him.

"Ah." He chuckled, "Of course, I'm sorry. Do you need anything?"

"I'm a little hungry..." I mumbled shamefully.

"That's perfect!" The chef called, ripping open the swinging kitchen door, "Lunch is served." Damien grabbed my hand and pulled me into the kitchen. Soup bowls sat on the counters, next to sandwiches on black plates. Damien grabbed them all and ushered me into the dining room. Windows lined the walls and ceiling, the sun peering in. He pulled a chair out for me, and pushed it in when I sat down. We sat quietly and ate our meals. The hot soup made my eyelids heavy as I sat at the table. I rubbed them, and stared at Damien till he made eye-contact.

"Hm?" He swallowed his bite, "Is everything alright?"

"I think I need to tiny nap. Thirty minutes at the most."

"Let's try for a hour, alright?" He stood from the chair and helped me onto my feet. He led me down the long hallway, turning into a spare bedroom. He peeled back the blankets and sheets, and gestured for me to crawl inside. I removed my shoes - and my socks - and laid down into the bed, then pulling the blankets to my chin. He brushed the hair from my face and smiled, "I'll wake you in a hour, okay?" I nodded slowly, closing my eyes as he carefully exited the room.

A bang shot out. I jerked up from the bed, searching through the darkness for something. I wiped the sweat from my face, another bang rang through the manor. I jumped out of the bed and tore open the door. A cold draft rushed in from the front door, brushing past my warm skin. My body shook as the hairs stood on my body.

"Damien?" I called softly, "Where are you?" No one replied. I peered into the kitchen, empty, along with the dining room. Where is the chef? The maid? "Damien?" I called again, my voice a little more shaky than it was the first time. I went down the hallway, slowly opening doors to glance inside them. Empty. They were all empty. I opened one last door, at the end of the hall. Damien's room. A body laid on the left side of the large bed. Damien. I gasped and rushed to his side. Then there was a click, and I jerked up my head to the sound.

"Abe?" I trembled.

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