Out of Control (Damien x Reader)

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 - 𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔

"Let's go out." Damien charmed as he looked up from his papers, "Since it is our last day here, in Los Angeles." I looked up from my phone and flashed him a small smile, slightly puzzled. He laughed softly and sat onto my bed, "We've been in this room since the interview. We need -and should- go explore!"

"It's just L.A. And we'll probably come back! So, let's stay in."

"Just L.A.?" He scoffed, "(Y/N), what has gotten into you? It's time to go out and have fun! Party till we have to fly all the way back home! Come on!"

"Alright, alright, we'll go." I sighed, and stood onto my feet, "Let me get dressed."

I slung the purse over my shoulder and opened the passenger door. Damien held out a hand for me, and pulled me out, then gesturing behind him with a large grin, "Welcome to the Boardwalk!" The smell of the ocean passed by, but it was too cold to swim. It made the hair on my arms and on the back of my neck stand on end, and my fingers were already slightly pink. Some people traveled on skateboards, or scooters. Some people just walked as couples, or families. Damien clasped his hands together, and charmed, "Shall we?" I playfully sighed and took his hand as we walked. I looked out into the water, ignoring this overwhelming sense of danger and fear. I was being crazy.

"You never told me where you lived, in your childhood. With your parents?"

"Here, actually." I shrugged, and pointed in some direction behind me, "Somewhere in the middle of nowhere. A small, little, broken down trailer."

"How is your mother now?"

"No idea, honestly. I don't really keep up with her anymore, not lately."

"She actually contacted me not too long ago. Last week, I think? Something about a letter she sent to you?"

I bit my lip. I knew what she wanted, she always wanted the same thing.

"No. I haven't. I'll have to look out for that..." I swiftly lied. Damien nodded slowly as we continued to walk.

"What about your family?" I questioned with a smile, and I squeezed his hand, " Do you talk to them?"

"My mother, mostly. My father always traveled too much to be at home. I can't remember what exactly he did. I think the last time I saw him was two years ago? Christmas." He chuckled, "My mother owns a bakery down the road in Seattle. I remember how she'd always bring me a fresh donut when I was sick, or my favorite cake when I passed with honor roll in high school." I smiled back to him, and he stopped. The wind brushed through his hair, and the sun made his brown eyes a lighter shade. Warm and fuzzy. Damien slowly turned back to me, holding the bright smile with his charming face.

"What?" I giggled lightly.

He gently rubbed my upper arm and gave it a slight squeeze, " Are you being honest? About your mom?"

I sighed and brushed the hair out of my face, rolling my eyes, "She found out I have a job. Now she's asking for money."

"Well my mom asks for money every now and then for-"

"For drugs?" I snapped, and tore my hand away from him, "I think you forgot my mom was a drug addict." His smile dropped, and he bit his lip, and turned away. I looked to the floor, he didn't know.

"Sometimes parents forget that you're parents." He weakly smiled.

"I'm sorry, Damien. She just-...really angers me sometimes."

"I understand that. And maybe I should've hung up instead of chatting with her. My apologizes."

I smiled and patted his shoulder. Damien gently kissed my forehead and pulled me close to his chest, rubbing my back with care, "I'm sorry." We remained there for a moment before he pulled away and brushed the hair from my face, "You want to go get some ice cream?"

"Yeah, that sounds perfect."