Something About Him

Chapter 19: A lie never felt so true

Cynthia's POV

He looked so peaceful, so pure...so innocent.

Like an angel.

"Damien..." I whispered once the figure behind the flash light was close enough for me to see his face.

"Why the hell are you smiling like an idiot?"

"You are not my responsibility, girl"

"Yeah I know that already..."

"Maybe you should leave then"

"Damien..."

"Um...I didn't mean it, Damien..."

"Come back...please"

"How much more heartless could you possibly be? Mr. Damien"

"I'm here..."

"Um...you are...the way you are...so yeah you staying back in the school last night, just for me, was kinda a big deal..." I paused and for God knows what reason I found myself leaning towards him and before I could realise what I was doing and stop myself, I placed a soft kiss on his cheek as my eyes shut down on their own accord, feeling my lips pressing against his cheek.

"So thank you, Damien...for last night and also for dropping me home"

I turned over in my sleep with a soft smile playing on my lips.

"Who is he?" Said a very familiar and irritating voice, interrupting my beautiful dreams.

Wait. What?

Dreams?

Was I dreaming about Damien?

Please don't tell me I was.

Was I?

With these thoughts clouding up my sleepy mind, I slowly opened my eyes to witness rays of sunshine peeping into my room through the slight gaps between the curtains of my room.

Was I really dreaming about him?

But why?

I have never had dreams of any guy before.

What's happening with me? I wondered resting a hand on my forehead, taking a deep breath, before running it through my hair.

Sure last morning and the night before was quite eventful, but that still doesn't explain or justify me dreaming about Damien...though it doesn't feel wrong in any way...in fact I was smiling while sleeping.

Christ!

How silly of me!

This has never happened before...it's all so new to me...I know this shouldn't be happening, I shouldn't be dreaming about him...it's just so weird.

"Who is he?" The irritatingly familiar voice asked once again, snapping me out of my thoughts, but this time the familiar voice also had a face.

It was my stupid younger brother, Chase, who was now hovering over my head with his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes demanding answers.

Well first of all what the hell is he doing in my room?

And secondly who the hell is he talking about?

"What do you want? Chase. What are you doing in my room, you know I don't like trash in my bedroom" I said in a sleepy voice before throwing the duvet over my face, not wanting to see his annoying face the first thing in the morning.