What to do now. *book two*

True happiness

Damiens POV:

Josh walks into the room, "Toni... you... you like me?"

He looks at Toni. His phone is in his hand.

Toni starts crying.

He then begin shaking and sits down on the floor.

I look at Kes and hint for us to leave the two alone.

I pick up my cane and we leave the room.

"Toni, Toni it's fine."
"I... I'm sorry..."
"What are you apologising for? As far as I'm aware, you haven't done anything wrong."
"Well I got beaten up be-because everyone found out..."
"About your crush on me?"
"Mm..."

I poke my head around the door, right as Josh hugs Toni and kisses his cheek.

I gasp, "oh, that's so cute!"

Toni goes red and presses his face against Josh's chest.

"KES!!"
"I am right here!"
"Oh. Anyway. Come look!! Toni has a boyfriend!!"
"Oh my god wait, really!?"
"Yes!! I think."

I look at Josh and Toni, "are you to together?"

Toni hugs Josh around his waist, keeping his face against Josh's chest.

Josh looks at me, "yes."

I hear an exciting noise from Toni.

"KES THEY'RE TOGETHER!!!!"
"Damien Jean! I am right next to you!!!"
"Oh yeah. Love you!"

He sighs and puts his forehead on my shoulder, "I love you too."

I kiss the top of his head, "and you have forever to do so."

He hugs me, "forever wouldn't be enough time with you."

I smile, my cheeks heating up at his words, "I will love you for more than forever and more than that then."

He looks at my face and gazes into my eyes, "I will never understand the emotions in those eyes. You are a puzzle, Damien Jean, And I'm not even close to solving you."

Josh stands, bringing Toni with him. Toni is clinging to him, with his legs around his waist and arms around his neck.

They go into the tv room.

I sit down on the sofa and Kes sits next to me.

I lay my head on his lap, looking up at him.

His fingers trace across nearly faded scars covering my arms, "I always find new ones... and yet... they aren't even new. They could be years old, and I would only find them years later...."

He gazes into my eyes again, "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you again. I think... one possibility would be... I wouldn't want to live anymore. But then... if you came back... I wouldn't be there. And you'd be alone."

He takes my hand, "I depend on you for the will to live. And that's because you are my will. Even if you are just sat next to me, or stood in the same room, or same house, or if you are in a different country, calling me or messaging me, you make me happy. Not the happiest person in the world, because I'll never get there. But you still make me incredibly happy. It's what you do. You push past your own issues to make sure others are okay before you make sure you're okay your self. You make sure others are happy before you, safe before you, you put their life ahead of yours, you'd die for anyone knowing that they won't be able to give anything back. You've dealt with so much shit and yet you are still here and you're still with me and you are still making people happy and making people okay and making people safe. And that's because you are kind. And generous. And you don't want others to feel the pain you have, because that would be immense. Don't let people take advantage of your kind and generous soul. Okay?"

I smile at him through teary eyes, "okay."

I sit up and lean my head on his shoulder, "you're too good to me..."

He places his hand on my cheek, "you constantly give kindness, so now it's you're turn to get something back."

I kiss his jaw lightly, "I love you so much..."

"I love you too..."...

"Well you don't seem fine."
"I am."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Are you depressed?"
"I- that's none of your business."

This person has been following me around asking me questions I don't want to answer. And her camera friend has been prodding a camera in my face at every chance he gets.

"What was it like when you were dead?"
"Unpleasant."
"Which bathroom do you go into if there's only a male and a female one?"
"That is none of your concern."
"Why is your accent not American?"
"...what?"
"Are you American?"
"No."
"Where are you from?"
"Russia."
"Have you ever thought about committing suicide?"
"Can you stop asking questions?"
"Can you answer the question?"
"I don't feel comfortable doing so."
"Why not?"
"I just don't."
"Have you ever attempted to kill your self?"
"Shut up."
"What are all the scars on your arms?"
"Are you aware of what People have done to me?"
"Is it self harm? Are you cutting yourself?"
"What-"
"Where did you think you're going after death?"
"Nowhere."
"Why?"
"I'm not meant to die."
"Why not?"
"I'm Just not."
"Can you answer the question?"
"No."
"How was Your childhood?"
"Fine."
"We're your parents abusive at all? Do you need mental help? What did your parents do to you?"
"Nothing, I-"
"Did you have many friends growing up? We're you always gay? Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

She keeps shooting question after question after question, not giving me a chance to answer any of them.

The next question makes me freeze.

"Do you believe you are destined for a fate of evil? Considering the fact that you are a half bred night blood?"

"I...I'm..." I'm struggling to breath and begin coughing.

"Are you okay? Why are you coughing like that?"

"I-I'll be *cough* fine..."

"What's wrong with you? Are you Ill?"

Someone takes my arm and leads me away quickly but carefully and then I find myself sat at a cafe table outside of the actual cafe....