"I love you..." (Y/N) spoke sleepily, clutched to my chest. I felt my heart stop as I sucked in a quick and sharp breath. I felt a flutter within my chest and stomach.
She what?
A soft smile spread across my lips, not one that (Y/N) could see, as she was resting with her eyes closed. I pursed my lips to reply,
"Thank you." Was all that came out.
What.
I even surprised myself. I scrambled to say or think something else that could repair the situation. But nothing came. She slowly pulled herself off my chest and rose to her feet, avoiding eye contact, "You're welcome?" She questioned her response before turning swiftly on her heels and leaving to the bedroom. I'm in trouble now, I sighed.
By the time I had gathered the courage to speak with her, she was already asleep -or at least pretending to be- turned over facing the wall. Yep, in trouble. She always waited on me since the night I was attacked by Abe. I sighed and gently rubbed her leg. It was more out of 'I'm sorry' rather than 'wake up so I can feel better about myself'. I slowly -like a dog with it's tail tucked between it's legs- changed into my pjs and crawled into bed. I flattened out onto my back and stared up at the ceiling fan. Why didn't I say it? Is it really than hard to do since...her? I thought books and movies just dramatized that crap. It shouldn't be that hard. And I do, I do love her. I've always loved her. But it was so hard to say. I quietly groaned and pulled her into my arms before resting my head in her neck. I gently kissed her neck then her cheek.
"I do love you, (Y/N)." I announced. I ignored the pang of guilt I felt arise in my chest as I watched a smile spread across her beautiful lips. I quickly released her. I needed some air.
I quietly grabbed my phone and exited the bedroom. I then found myself sitting on the cobblestone steps, examining the courtyard. I sighed and ruffled my own hair. There's no need to feel that guilty. It's (Y/N).
But it isn't her.
I shook my head, "I've moved on." I said aloud almost to convince myself. My phone then vibrated inside my pocket and I swiftly removed it, checking the time before answering. 3:24am. Why was my dad calling this late?
I answered, annoyed, "Hey, dad, now it's a good time, okay-" He then harshly cut me off, with seriousness in his trembling voice.
"Wait, what?" I panicked, standing to my feet, "Moms what?"
Within the hour, I found myself packing all my things into suitcases. Clothes, wallet, business documents. Everything. I even made sure to grab the box from my sock drawer. Still dressed in pjs, I slipped on my shoes and headed for the door. Crap. (Y/N). I quickly turned on my heels and raced back to the bedroom. Before I placed my hands onto her warm body to wake her up, I stopped myself. She's sleeping so peacefully, I thought to myself, and it might be nothing. I'll just call her when I get to Mama's. I'll be back in a couple of days. I gently squeezed her hand and placed a soft kiss onto her cheek. I'll be back.
On the drive to the airport, my mind was spinning. A weight was resting on my chest and it would leave. This can't be happening again. I can't go through this again. I need to call Chase, he needs to handle the business for a couple of days. I called, but he didn't give a response. I shot him a quick text instead, demanding that he meet me at the airport. Hopefully he'd be there.
The car screened to a halt, and I threw my phone into my passenger seat, helping my staff get my bags out of the back of my SUV. It didn't take long before Chase had pulled up in his car and he rushed to my side.
"What happened?" He asked, breathlessly, "What's going on?"
I turned to him to answer, but caught myself sobbing. I gasped and sucked in a deep breath, steading myself, "Chase. It's my mom. She's sick, so I have to leave. And I should be back soon, but I don't know. So I need you to tell (Y/N) and take care of her for me, please."
"Of course, of course." Chase nodded, "I'll do that for you Damien."
I quickly patted his back before I rushed onto the plane, waving to Chase as I left.
The journey to mom's was painful. My mind kept wandering. How long has she been sick? Since (Y/N) and I visited? How bad is it? Why did Dad wait this long? Is she as sick as Celine was or...her? Why didn't I know till now? I roughly rubbed my face and readjusted in my seat. I should go ahead and text (Y/N), just so she hears something from me, so she doesn't freak in the morning. I patted down my pockets, just to find nothing. Panic filled my body as I shoved my hands into my pockets, desperately trying to find the device. I know I had it in the car!
But not on the plane.
"Damnit!" I mumbled, pounding my fists into the side of the plane. Whatever. I rolled my eyes and tried to relax, Chase said he was going to tell her.
When I pulled into my mom's driveway, all the lights were on. I could recognize my father's red truck. I quickly gathered my things from the Uber and entered the home. The living room was empty, besides some glasses and plates. "Hello?" I called out as my hand clutched the banner. My dad poked his head from around the corner upstairs, "Damien? Is that you?"
I gave him an awkward smile and gestured to myself.
"She's up here."
I gently placed my bags onto the floor, slipped off my shoes and headed upstairs. Dad waited for me, his hand in his pj bottoms, "I'm sorry I called so late." He shrugged, "I've been home for the week, and it got like this-"
"So why isn't she at the hospital?" I violently snapped, "Why didn't you take her to the hospital?"
"Damien." My father growled, "There's no point. There's no cure. There's nothing we can do, and she didn't want to go."
I pointed my finger into his chest and gritted my teeth, "You should have taken her anyways." I watched my father as he swallowed his tongue and continued past me, into the bedroom.
As I entered behind him, my mom's smile grew. And a pit formed in my stomach. Her skin was grey and dark circles formed around her eyes. Mom's cheeks were sunken in and her grey hair was thin, almost falling out. This was far worse than Celine, or her.
"Damien." She sickly called and held her hand out to me, "Come. Sit with me, honey." My father continued to stand in the corner of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. His face looked hard and stern. I cautiously sat at the corner of the bed, and grasped at her hand, "Hey mom." She then slowly peered around the room, "Where's your wife?" I bit my lip and smiled, "She's at home, mom. I was rushing to get home."
"I always liked your wife, (Y/N). She was so sweet."
"I like her too, momma." I grinned. Mom then quickly perked up, "Oh and Celine! Where's Celine? She's coming home from college, right?" I gave my father a confused look, "Celine?"
"She's on her way, dear." He quickly replied, "So why don't you rest before she gets here?" Mom smiled and curled up into the bed, then allowing dad and I to leave. He shut the door tight, "Her memory is slipping. She kept talking about Celine before you came." I said nothing in reply as I shoved my hands into my pockets.
"You re-married?" He quietly asked.
"No. (Y/N) is my girlfriend." I quickly replied, "She's probably confused." He then nodded gently, "You can go, I just wanted you to see her before she..."
"I'm staying." I snapped harshly, "I'm her son, and that's what family does."
"Damien, enough." My father snapped, "I'm sorry that I haven't been around, but I'm here now-"
"Yeah? Now that she's dying?" I whispered, "How about when Celine died? Where were you then?"
"Damien, enough, seriously!" He yelled, his face bright red, allowing a vein to pop from his forehead. I held my hands up in defense, and headed back down the stairs, "I'll sleep on the couch."
YOU ARE READING
Out of Control (Damien x Reader)
FanfictionYour life was going just fine. Well, better than it ever has growing up. Sure, you're living in a pretty crappy apartment, with some pretty crappy people. And sure, you're working at a job that BARELY pays for anything! But you were happy! When a...