𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐋 𝐃𝐔𝐁𝐎𝐈𝐒 also known as crampton's finest bodyguard. she's cold and collected, living a life full of drunken hookups and fights. she's built walls around her heart, yet he, somehow, managed to break them.
Now, meet 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐑...
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Somebody please tell me why I agreed to going to college for this assignment? I'm not complaining about my assignment, I wouldn't have met Damien if I didn't take it. But going to college? I practically cheated my way throughout high school - do not recommend - and now, my professor wants me to write an eight page essay on the mind of veterans?!
How!!
"Why are you complaining? You don't even need to do the essay!" Damien stated while huffing as I placed my glasses on top of my head.
"I'm not the one that chose psychology as my major, am I?"
"I'm not the one that chose psychology as my major, am I?" He mumbled under his breath.
We've been sitting in the school's library for the past hour. I was beyond bored and Damien was full on having a nervous breakdown about his essay. Saint was at his feet, licking his hand while I glared at my boy.
I'm kind of offended that Saint pays more attention to Damien then he does to me... maybe that's what I get for getting Bowie a new toy and not Saint - it's not like he doesn't have twenty billion other toys.
Jealous boy.
"Why don't we take a break before you start getting white hair, yeah?"
Damien chuckled as he pushed the books away and rested his head on my shoulder. He's been staying with me for about two weeks now, and tomorrow we're having family dinner with my brothers. Damien hasn't spoke to his dad, only his mom, and I can tell it's taking a toll on him.
He's been depending on his parents his whole life, he looked up to his father. Though he hasn't said anything about the whole fight, he's been needing constant reassurance.
More then usual.
I can only guess his father said unpleasant things about his disorder and how sensitive he is compared to others.
"Can we get donuts?" Damien asked with a lazy smile as I glanced down at him. The things I would do for this man.
Nodding my head, we both stood up from our uncomfortable chairs. Damien grabbed his leather jacket - that he bought so we could match - from the chair before ruffling his hair.
He was wearing a white t-shirt with grey jeans and black converse. He looked like one of those typical greasers in the movies, which was kind of funny. And hot...
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