WHERE THEY GET SO, THEY GET SO LONELY BABY, WELL, THEY'RE SO LONELY THEY'LL BE SO LONELY THEY COULD DIE
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_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
I want to knock his door. 225, wrap my arms around his neck, maybe kiss him on the jaw, and tell him I love him. Austin makes me want to try, yet I'm waiting for him to try first, because I know he can. As I'm standing with my head in my palm, elbows pressed against the counter, daydreaming, I'm startled by a hand on my shoulder.
"Fuck-" I gasp... and gasp again when I realize who it is. "sorry."
Damian looks at me judgingly. He's been telling me off over my gradually worsening use of language, though lets it slip for just once. "So, Ottilie Crawford." For the first time in my life, I see him slouch, as he mirrors me. Leaned against the counter himself, he takes in a deep breath. "What's been on your mind?"
I blink. "My mind?"
Damian laughs in a way I never heard. He looks around the practically empty reception hall. Only a few broken-hearted lovers strolling to their rooms to end yet another lonely day. "There isn't anyone else here, is there?"
"Right." I clear my throat. "Uhm, nothing that important is on my mind, really. Just, a couple rooms I need to check."
He raises a brow, knowingly, and hums. "Two-twenty-five?"
Sometimes it worries me, how much Damian knows of everything that goes down within the walls of Andromeda. Maria sure deserves a lot of the credit, thanks to her incredible skill for gossiping, though Damian has always been this way. He has eyes on the back of his head, and ears on walls.
"Yeah." I try to keep it professional, but to no avail. It seems Damian prefers to keep it more personal today, with the way he crosses his arms in front of his chest and exhales deeply, I can tell he's got some things on his mind, too. "I- I don't know."
"Ottilie-" he then starts, "there's a lot of things I don't know either. Sometimes I don't know if I'm supposed to say 'yes' or 'no' when Maria asks me if she looks ugly in the morning." He laughs at his own silly jokes, and it reminds me all over that Damian is just a person like me. "I don't know what I want to eat for dinner tonight- hell, I don't even know how to manage this hotel sometimes. Ironic, isn't it?"
I laugh with him, and this time I'm not faking anything. Damian seems to have thought about a lot of things, for a long time.
"But if there's one thing I do know," he points, "it's that every problem is solved one way or the other. Whether good or bad is completely in your hands." He ends it with a confident wink.
