Out of Control (Damien x Reader)

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝙾𝚗𝚎 - 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜

*TRIGGER WARNING - SUICIDE*

"Damien, do you know where I put those forms?" I called from the office doorway.

"Aren't they on the right?" He called from the living room, barely turning his head to look at me, "Under the tax return?"

I puffed and ripped open the drawer. "Great..." I mumbled. I had just opened on of the messiest drawers in the manor. I quickly pulled out the papers, only briefly scanning them to ensure that it wasn't what I was looking for. He really needed to clean this damn thing. I had reached the bottom and there was nothing. Damn it. I began to put the pages back into the drawer, I noticed something. A hole at the bottom of the container. That's when I noticed the drawer seemed larger than it actually was. The hole was just large enough for me to fit my finger inside. What was inside? Before I could rip it open, Damien appeared in the doorway, grasping at a packet.

"I found it." Damien smiled, "It was in the bedroom, under the bed."

"Ah, good!" I smiled and carefully shut the drawer. I gently took the packet from his grasps and kissed his cheek, "Thank you."

His face beamed as he experienced my touch. Damien then cleared his throat and gestured towards the folder, "What is that anyways?"

"It's my paperwork from the apartments." I explained, "I have to fill it out so I don't own it anymore. Anyways!" I slapped the front of the folder with my open hand, "The lobby-lady sent it back. Apparently, there was something wrong." I flipped it open and quickly browsed through the pages until something inside would catch my eye. Everything seemed alright, my signature dancing here and there across the pages. Until I got to the back of the packet, where there was a giant, red circle over 'Owner's Signature'. I sighed and shrugged my shoulders, almost out of disbelief or anger, "How is that wrong? I owned that flat?"

"Did you make the payments?" Damien asked me aloud.

"I thought it was included." I shrugged, "I don't know, she never asked, and I never got a bill!" I laughed and dropped the papers down onto my side, rubbing my head into defeat, "I stayed there for like a week, maybe two at the most! What was there to pay for?"

"Here, give the packet to me." He held out a hand while I gently placed it into his, watching him carefully and closely. He ripped out a pen from his pocket and swiftly placed his signature onto the dotted line. I giggled and took the packet back from him, "Okay, well that's great, but it doesn't work like that, Damien-"

"I own the complex, (Y/N)." He quickly shrugged off, "I get to put my signature wherever I feel like it."

I giggled and placed the forms onto Damien's desk. I wrapped my arms around his body and rested my chest against his. He smiled and leaned down, then placing a kiss against my lips. I grinned into it.

"I'll drop your forms off on my way into work, alright?" Damien kindly offered.

I sighed and puffed out my lip, "You're going back in? You were out so late last night!"

"I know, I know. I've just had all these meetings lately. Since Abe left, everything's been all..." He quietly trailed off, then dismissing himself, "But anyways, that's work-talk. Why don't we have some other type of talk." He purred whiled he wiggled his eyebrows.

Damien went into work not even an hour later. My mind kept wondering back to Damien's desk, and the small hole that laid inside the bottom of it. It was eating at my brain, begging to be opened. I scoffed, defeated by my own curiosity and popped off the couch that rested in the living room. A small peak, Damien wouldn't even know! I twisted open the office doorknob, only for it to turn halfway. He locked it? I groaned aloud. Since when did Damien start locking his office? Did he know that I saw? There had to be a key somewhere around here. I'm sure he didn't take it to work, that would be stupid. Or maybe it was toxic that I was snooping through all of his personal items. I entered into the bedroom, and ripped open Damien's dresser. I peered through his socks and boxers that rested inside the first drawer. When moving aside some socks, it felt heavy as it dropped it the floor. Almost too heavy. As I reached down to grab it, a voice snapped me back into reality.