Little Witch || (Devil's Night fanficion)

[03] Be His Peace.

(TW: mentions of Damon's backstory, slight SA, not full.)

LILY

I stirred into my bed as I heard from outside the screeching sound of tires on the concrete. I didn't pay too much attention, I was too fucking sleepy. The day was tiring at the library, an elementary class came and teachers didn't give a damn about what the kids were doing. 

I was about to fall asleep again, when suddenly loud bangs hit my door. I blinked my eyes open, thinking I was just imagining things but no, the knocks on my door continued. Oh no, please not again. I already knew who it was. Damon. He's been here a couple of weeks ago, drunk and stressed. I was too sleepy to engage with him so I just told him to do whatever he wanted. I was so tired, so fucking tired I didn't care. In the end he fell asleep in my bed. Yes, he just slept. Damon Torrance "just slept" in my bed. And in the morning, he woke up, angry as fuck and left. I couldn't understand this man at all. Did he behave like this with everyone? 

I walked towards the door, opening it with an irritated frown, since it was like 3 a.m and I was barely alive. He stormed in, as if he owned the place and just like last time he smelled like alcohol, cigarettes and expensive perfume. He was at the club in Meridian City again.

"Damon...it's 3 in the morning..."

I mumbled, rubbing my face as he got closer to me and grabbed my arms. "Shut the fuck up!!" He yelled in my face, making me flinch. I looked at him dumbfounded, and I wondered what happened for him to be in such distress. 

I stayed silent, studying his expression, he wasn't seeing me, that was sure. His jaw was so clenched I thought it would have popped out of his skin, his black eyes looked even colder than usual as sweat broke out on his forehead, sticking some of his hair to his skin.

"She had black hair like yours...hers was thinner, silky...." Damon said, as he caressed my hair before his fingers held onto a strand of hair. My hair...it was black, but it was a bit thicker, rebellious and unkempt. My bangs were a mess, and it wasn't properly cut due to cutting it myself. 

"Who...who are you talking about?" I managed to ask, but his stare, his voice, the cold fury and animalistic rage that was bubbling and building up under his pale skin, were scaring the shit out of me. 

"My mother." He said, sharply. I was about to talk again but he continued without letting me speak. "She started to fuck me when I was around 12 years old." His words lingered in the air, his voice a monotone so cold and distant it made me freeze, my ears were ringin. What? What did he just say...?

"She would came into the room, at night, and just...fuck me...it was my sleeping pill..."

He said, his knuckles caressing my cheek and my jaw. I felt sick to my stomach. He didn't need to add much because I already got it and there was no other way for him to say it. "That bitch made me feel so fucking disgusting, rotten...I started to do all sort of things to my body... 

Cuts, pokes, scratches, burns...it felt good...it felt better. She stopped when I was 15, after I slammed her head against the mirror...she left then, but three years later I saw her again. Want to know what I did?"

I was spiraling, trying to register what he was telling me, the amount of information that was being thrown at me was making me feel like I was drowning. I felt my throat getting dry and tears welled in my eyes at the thought of the hell he went through. When he asked me the question I could barely manage a movement of my head.

"I killed her..." He whispered to my ear, making shivers run through my body. Jesus fucking Christ...

"D-Damon...I'm..." I tried to say, but I didn't know what to say. I'm sorry? Too basic. It wasn't your fault? Even more infuriating. Is this why he acted like that last time? He wasn't in control of the situation, he wasn't angry, he was scared.