The Bad Boy Has A Secret

Chapter 13- Hayfield Crescent

Y/N---

Am I still somewhat annoyed at Damien for- everything?

Yes.

Am I gradually forgiving him for certain things?

Also yes.

Admitting it feels- weird, but I'm enjoying our hang out right now. Chatting with him is fun. He knows how to crack good jokes, definitely. I think he should try stand-up comedy at least once. I would probably watch.

Sometimes mid-discussion he gets distracted and leaves me waiting for a response, til I have to wave in his face to regain his attention. And he has a tendency to forget words. We laugh past them though; I'm guilty of the last quality, even if it doesn't happen often.

"Hey, rain's stopped!" he says, pointing upwards with his chin.

"About damn time!" I rejoice. I lift off the jacket's hood and take a pissed stare at the clouds, now loosely dotted in shades of pearly white, who float innocently as if they hadn't been waging war on the Earth not long ago.

Damien smirks at me. Damn that smirk of his. I can't tell what he's currently thinking, so I'm hoping I can figure out when his jaw parts to speak. "You know what that means?"

"Well, it means a lot of things. N-"

"Water fight!"

Before I can react he jumps in front of me, slides the water off of the pavement railing with his palm and splashes me with it. I gasp in surprise, my- his jacket now wet.

"Oh you're on!"

I mirror his stance and attempt to get him back, my competitive drive fuelled more by his light-hearted taunts when I irritatingly miss. We dance a dance of mischief, the rainwater our swords of steel, the quiet artificially lit streets our battlefield; our movements hightened by a need for stealth in this makeshift fight of ours. And all the while we are laughing, til I forget how this meeting even came to be in the first place.

Now I'm loathing the signpost of "Hayfield Crescent", which appeared much too early for my current liking, signalling the end to our playful session. I woefully announce it.

"Aw- so soon?" His expression is similar to mine; I can see our recent moments replaying in those earthy irises of his, tangled with sadness and reluctance. I nod regretfully. "I somewhat had fun this evening. After- stuf-"
"I know, I know. It's- I'm sorry."
I don't want to replace our recent joy with the negative memory of his previous actions again, but I feel it's necessary. I take note of the truth coating his words, and his sigh as he looks shamefully at me. He continues.

"I was wrong. Very wrong. I almost got you killed because of me, and I won't be forgetting it anytime soon. I wanted your company, but I shouldn't have done- what I did. But still, I dare to face you, and apologise. I'm sorry. I swear."

I do not respond instantly; only smiling subtly. "I accept your apology. And I still look you in the eyes, because truth betold you're not so bad after all." And they're attractive. You're attractive-

I stop myself, powerless to the redness that rushes to my cheeks. "I suppose I'll see you tomorrow? It'll be a Tuesday- bring your PE kit."

"Oh- thanks for reminding me. I almost forgot." he chuckles. "Yeah- see you tomorrow Y/N."

He turns to walk away, stealing one more glance over his shoulder. I watch, rooted to the spot, til I eventually tell myself to get a move on and make my way back home.

I cannot think. My thoughts, usually lined in order and clarity are scattered and clouded. I feel peculiar. Even more so when I reach for Elliott's camera to observe it again out of curiosity, just to notice it had completely slipped my mind that I hadn't returned Damien's jacket.

Nevermind. I think I enjoy wearing it.