'You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye
And I got that red lip classic thing that you like
And when we go crashing down, we come back every time
'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style
You got that long hair, slicked bac...
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Damon went straight home after his session with Doctor Linda. He decided to walk so that he could taste the fresh air of Forks. It was cold just how he liked it, the chill calming his body down.
But it had been hours since that because when he got home, Bella was gone. She went shopping in Port angeles with Jessica and Angela. Those two girls Damon didn't mind. They were both kind.
He knew one thing, even if she went out with two girls just shopping, Damon wouldn't be able to relax to she stepped a foot through that door unharmed.
So that's why he sat at the kitchen table waiting for her with his art book on the table in front of him. His pencil in his hand sketched away the lines of the house he resided inside.
His mind was exhausted. He was drained mentally. He had never spoken about himself this much in his entire life, and to have someone shit there and listen, it was different.
It felt nice.
Maybe just maybe he needed to take another look at this whole therapy thing because it felt relaxing in some sort of way.
Also draining, yes.
But that's because he wasn't used to it yet, the feeling of being able to talk about himself. That would take some getting used to.
But he had time. He was willing to wait and be a better person.
Because of it, I meant getting to have even the slightest bit of a chance with Rosalie.
God, it was so worth it.
He shook his head, trying to do the impossible, which was to get the blonde from his head. He wondered how she was. He hadn't seen her in a few days, seeing as he had skipped school.
Damon blew out the last puff of smoke from his lungs before putting the tiny remainder of the cigarette out. He glanced towards the clock on the cooker again and read the time. It was getting quite late, eight o'clock.
It wasn't like Bella had a curfew. So, at the end of the day, as long as she came home, it didn't really matter what time.
"Bella's do not touch." Damon read the sign on the sweets in the cupboard. "Oh fuck off." He grabbed then and placed them on the table so he could snack on them while he drew to keep his mind occupied.
Maybe it had been ten minutes or maybe twenty or more he didn't know, but he was blinded when dazzling bright lights made their way through the window in the kitchen.
Damon cursed whatever idiot had their mainbeam on in the dark.
He blinked his eyes over and over again, listening to the slam of the door, although the car didn't speed away till his front door opened.
Damon looked down at the sweets on the table, then to the sufferling at the door. Oh, she must have sensed him opening them and came running to chop of his hand.
