Grace's Bookstore

Chapter 11

Damien's POV

Damien awoke to darkness, heart racing, a cold sweat sticking to him as he sat upright, breathing heavily, surveying the darkness of his room. His link lay on the nightstand, gentle music playing out into the trembling air, screen alight from a message he didn't look at, the long notes of the stringed instruments quietly echoing around his grand room and offering soothing like a rose.

He set two fingers against his neck, feeling his pulse, and willed himself to relax. He stayed there for perhaps five minutes, perhaps longer, letting his breathing slow, pulse quiet, the hammering in his chest to come to a full stop, before he rose to his feet.

He'd had a nightmare, of that he was sure, but he couldn't remember the details of what had given him such a feeling of existential dread. He hadn't had nightmares in years. Has thinking about mom and dad and Cassian brought them back? He thought, blinking, trying to see out the windows. Of course, they were tinted automatically, to keep out the light of the morning and not disturb his sleep. Once he was awake, and his alarm went off, they would open so he could get dressed and watch the sun rise. Right now, they were still dark and, beyond them, the world was too. Night still cloaked the sky.

In his fitful sleep, he'd tangled the sheets and covers, and he surveyed the bed as he stood only in his silk boxers, bumps rising to his skin in the chilly air, coating his sharp muscles. Geez, he thought, it only gets this bad when I have a guest. Then, shit. Will Ben think I had one without telling him?

He sighed, crossed to the nightstand to grab his link, intending to text Benjamin, let him know, when he realized he could just make the bed himself. He set the link down almost as quickly as he picked it up, eyes almost missing the ribbon across his screen, the message from... Noah.

He swiped open the phone, feeling fury rise inside him, until his eyes fluttered over the messages he'd gotten, and he felt his anger cool, his fury soften.

[Noah] I'm still awake.

[Noah] I don't really know why, lol.

[Noah] Just thinking of you.

[Noah] Hope you see this in the morning!

The message was sent just moments ago, and Damien felt himself glow at the knowledge that Noah was thinking about him at, he checked the clock, shit, three in the morning. The smile dropped.

[Damien] Go to sleep.

He felt his eyes drift back up the back-and-forth of blue bubbles between them, the messages dancing evenly and matched, trailing back to the night before.

There was the photo he'd sent, just because he could, and then:

Noah saved a photo from you.

He remembered reading that, chuckling aloud and waiting, waiting, waiting. For an hour, though, there was no response, until Noah sent a photo back. And there they all were, the six of them gathered around a table, Korean barbecue set before them. Damien let his eyes trace them, Iris and Copper, fighting over a slice of meat, Caro, absentmindedly eating vegetables, Mare, waving at the camera, Luka, spacing out as he slurped up noodles, and Noah, an adorable little smile playing over his face, two fingers held up in a piece sign, and Damien had grinned at the little message written off to the side, scrawled by hand in a blue color. Noah's cursive. Wish you were here <3

And Damien had sighed because he too wished he was there. He wanted to know what it was like to be in that friend group, to be sitting beside Noah, or under him, as they all laughed and smiled and cracked their jokes.