"You really like being punished, don't you?" the man asked. His voice was the only thing that could alleviate anything in his senses. They were overloaded by the hot iron that was pressed against him. He wanted to scream, but nothing came out.
The nights had only gotten worse, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was what happened after the pain. That was what had kept him coming back.
Even if that was rare to get nowadays.
"Don't you have anything better to do?" he asked, breath almost as hot as the iron that he had just been relieved from. "Don't you have friends, family, people who care about you?"
"No," he answered. It was the only thing he had said all night. It was the raw truth of his life, the reason why no one worried about him
He didn't have anyone, or anything. He was alone in this world.
"Pathetic."
"There you are," a familiar voice came. "When you said that you took the bus all the way to the last stop, I didn't really think you meant it."
"Hey, Waylon," Damien said, aimlessly typing away. It was the dead of night, and he was sick and tired of looking at his phone. He didn't want to ruin anyone's night. Waylon was just the first one who had messaged him, seeing if he was able to work on their next article that was going to issue out. "I already finished the article."
"I had a feeling you would get it done fast," Waylon said, sitting next to him. The bus that he had taken still left him in Amor. He was on the outskirts, right next to the hill that he saw in the background of the city every day. It was an old church that held weddings or something. Damien had gone up there one time with Waylon to take pictures and do a story. It was still recovering from a storm that messed it up.
"Yeah," he muttered. He was just glad that he had a flashdrive of it, because he wasn't in range of any wifi, and he wasn't planning on going anywhere that had it either. He just wanted to be alone and sulk in the only way he knew.
"You're really a great editor," he told him, looking up at the night sky. "I really think you'll go far, Damien."
"Thanks," he mumbled, handing him the flashdrive without even looking his way. "At least someone does."
Right then, he was just trying anything to keep himself from curling into a ball and pretending that the world had ended so that he could finally be free.
He was free. But, at the same time he wasn't. Damien supposed that this was how being an adult really was. He had to grow up someday. It was just shitty that it had to happen this way.
"You want to talk about it?"
"Talk about what?" he asked. He couldn't type his story anymore, not with Waylon there right then. There was just something about people that you could always tell when they wanted something. It was just the way that they stayed in the silence, letting it get awkward as they waited for the right time to ask the question that they had been wanting to ask in the first place.
He hated it.
"What's bothering you," the man shrugged. "Did something happen at that dinner of your family's?"
"How did you know...?" he paused. "Oh, never mind," Damien shook his head. "I forgot you're dating Jasper's sister."
"I don't exactly know if it's officially dating just yet," Waylon smiled. "But it's nice taking things slow for once. That's what I love about the night. While the day is full of everyone running around and getting things done, the night is when they slow down and relax a bit."
YOU ARE READING
Impress Me Not: The Writer
Romance"This was a bad idea," Benny paced back and forth in the room. "It's not that bad," Will assured him. "Yes, it is!" the man was this close to pulling his hair out. His hands were already tangled into the short tuffs. "They're a horrible match, ther...
