Mind Games and D.I.D

13. I don't know what your missus' issue with her is.

After their meal, Damian escorted his girlfriend back to his home, which was technically out the back of his family's house in a self-contained sleep out.

"Thanks for this," Ferrie uttered as they exited his car.

"It's alright," he smiled as they walked into the newly renovated unit. A tidy and decently sized studio unit that was attached to a separated garage on his parent's property. The room was simple with plain walls other than a few band and car posters. There was a small kitchen area just inside the door that consisted of a bench, cupboard, sink and mini fridge. The living area seated three on his couch with a television and gaming console on the other side of the room just inside the entrance. A small table with two chairs, beside the kitchen bench and a queen-sized bed sat at the far end of the room. The bed was among the nicer of things Damian owned. His bed had a big wooden framed headboard and end-board that had about ten thin wooden bars running vertically through them. Then lastly, a freshly constructed bathroom had been installed in the garage beside the room and was connected handily onto the room itself.

"Do you want a drink?" Damian offered sweetly.

"Sure. What you got?" She queried, then dropped her bags by the couch.

"Um," he inspected his fridge. "Soda or water?"

"Or?" She asked suggestively. He peered over at the clock next to his bed.

"It's barely ten."

"Since when do I care about what time is not appropriate to drink by societies standards?" She asked him sarcastically. Damian sighed.

"Vodka it is..." he gave in, pulling out a tall bottle from under the sink.

"It's always vodka-O'clock," she snickered. "I need a little alcohol. I haven't had any in like, a whole day."

"Terrible," Damian smirked as he prepared her a drink. Pouring a little vodka into a straight glass and topping it up with cola, before then walking over and handing it to her. Ferrie took a sip while glaring at him.

"What do you call that? Half a percent?" She asked mockingly. Damian took the hint and strolled back over to retrieve the vodka bottle again, then came back and topped up her drink.

"Thank you."

"It's actually forty-two percent," Damian informed her, then took a quick swig from the bottle himself.

"Oh yeah. This is much better than rehab..."

"Yo," came an interruption from outside. They both then halted to see Drake's head poking in the open door.

"Were going to talk about that," Damian stated surely before placing the bottle down. "I'll get some more of that honestly out of you."

"Nah," she muttered as he walked away.

"Sup, bro?" Drake grinned as he reached the door.

"Is no one going to school today?"

"There's school today?" Drake asked looking confused.

"It's Tuesday, Drake," he reassured him. "But the week is being filled with random classes until next week, so we probably don't need to be in school anyway."

"Oh, right. I guess that's why Steve text me before asking where I was? I just thought he cared..."

Damian coughed a small laugh.

"Yeah. So, what are you up to?"

"I was going into town to pick up more stock."

"Stock?"

"Cheap booze," Drake clarified. "I know a guy. Did you know Steve's throwing another party tonight?"

"What?"

"Yeah, I know," Drake exclaimed happily. "He's been going a bit hard again lately. I just think he likes the company, ay?"

"Yeah, definitely..." Damian agreed. "I don't see you complaining."

"It's awesome. But I have been pretty hungover lately, so I wasn't going to go tonight... but Jess kind of hinted that she wanted to go, so..."

"Is that ongoing, then?" Damian asked, trying hard not to sound disappointed.

"Ah, yeah. We've kind of been talking a bit lately..."

"Why?"

"I don't know, man. I've kind of always had a thing for redheads... and we were in a few of the same classes last year."

"Why's it the first I'm hearing of this?" Damian asked his best friend. Drake shrugged and momentarily pointed past him, indicating the distain they all knew his girlfriend had for that girl.

"Ohh, is she alright? I mean, after yesterday?"

"Yeah, she's okay. She had a haircut to even it out. It looks pretty cute, actually."

"Nice. Hope she's alright," Damian replied genuinely.

"I don't know what your misses' issue with her is," Drake frowned as he thought about it.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Ferrie called from inside.

"I would, actually!" Drake retorted past his mate without getting any further response.

"I don't think there's a real reason," Damian almost whispered.

"Do you think I should take her?"

"You're gonna do what you're gonna do"

"Are you gonna go?"

"Nah. I think we'll have a quiet night."

"Okay. I'll catch you at school tomorrow, then," he grinned before holding out his hand for their handshake.

"Have fun, man. Not too much, though. Maybe don't be hungover tomorrow."

"I'll try not," Drake replied sarcastically as he walked away. Damian then made his way back into his room to see Ferrie rummaging through her bags.

"What are you looking for?" He queried as he sat on the couch next to her. Ferrie then smirked as she found what she was looking for. She raised her hand to reveal a shiny silver pair of handcuffs.

"Just these..."

"Where did those come from?"

"I found them," she stated slyly.

"And what are you planning to do with them?" He asked suspiciously.

"Go to the bed and I'll show you..."

"No, thank you. Nope."

"Aw, why not?" She snickered as she clicked open the cuffs. He then leaned in and grabbed them with both hands before she could do anything.

"Because I don't think I can trust you with these..." he uttered before wrenching them from her fingers.

"Didn't you want to finally have some fun?"

"I don't even care if it's been a while at this point. It's not happening with the cuffs, Ferrie... you'll do bad things."

"That's the point."

"No,"he reassured her, before tossing the cuffs out the open door.