Drugs & Dior

Chapter 15

Damon

Of course I end up picking up the virgin. Out of all the guys out there, I had to be the one to take the virgin home? I'm not about to take her virginity, I know that much. At least it explains her horrible kissing skills.

I get off the bed and run my hand through my hair. I'm a little drunk, but not drunk enough to lose my senses and think it's a good idea to be her first.

My phone rings and I pick it up.

"DAMON!" The voice on the other end screams.

Vanessa.

She is starting to become the bane of my existence.

I sigh. "What do you want."

"You took Angela home. I— You—!"

"Calm down," I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm guessing your Angela?" I ask the girl laying in my bed. She nods.

"And your Damon."

I nod. Most girls know who I am, she seems to just have figured it out, something I gathered by the way she stares at the ceiling contemplating her life choices. I look away and pay attention to the conversation on the phone.

"Bring her back right this instant, or take her to her own apartment, you guys don't live that far away from each other."

"Or what?" I chuckle. "What will you do, Nessy?" I taunt.

"I will ruin your career. Do you want me to tell everyone you raped her? Because that's what you'd be doing if you had sex with her right now. She's drunk out of her mind and confused, don't put a finger on her, do you understand me?" Vanessa has never sounded so angry, and I've made her pretty mad at times.

"Okay, okay," I say, exhaling a heavy breath. "I wasn't planning on it anyway. She's a virgin."

"I'm on my way now."

"No need," I say dismissively. "I'll walk her to her apartment, what number is it?"

"Three forty three, four doors down from you."

"Got it."

"I'm going to check on her in the morning, if she's not in her room, I'm going to bury you alive."

"Okay, calm down, will ya? I wasn't gonna touch—"

Beep beep beep

This b*tch.

"Come on," I tell Angela. "I have to walk you to your room." I make my way over to the bed and start trying to lift her up but she's holding onto something, she's fighting me.

"No~" she cries. "No, no, no! I wanna stay here!"

"Geez," I huff. "Why are you throwing a tantrum? I—" How do I handle this? I run a frustrated hand through my hair and exhale. This girl is acting so childish.

"I wanna stay here!" She screams again. "If you touch me again, I'll scream."

My room is soundproof, but why would I need to tell her that?