To The End - Damon Albarn

16. One Last Time...?

A week had dragged by, each day feeling like it stretched forever. I'd barely left the house since that night, tangled up in a web of emotions I couldn’t even begin to name. The shame, the confusion, the endless questioning of why I’d let it happen. Madison had been by almost every day, trying to coax me out of my self-imposed exile. She’d knocked with coffees, lunch ideas, and every silly suggestion she could think of to pull me from my funk. But I always turned her away.

I’d convinced myself that avoiding the world would make everything disappear. That if I stayed buried in the safety of my flat, I’d somehow erase Damon from my mind.

So when there was a knock on my door that afternoon, I opened it, expecting to see Mads, probably with another one of her hare-brained schemes. But when I pulled it open, my stomach dropped. Because it wasn’t Madison.

It was Damon.

For a split second, I could hardly breathe, staring at him like he was a ghost. He looked… miserable. No cocky smirk, no clever retorts—just raw, unapologetic exhaustion. He seemed like he hadn’t slept, dark shadows under his eyes and an unshaven jaw. For a moment, neither of us spoke, just stared at each other with a kind of stunned silence.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Lex,” he said quietly, his voice as rough as he looked. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” I tried to sound casual, but my voice shook. “There’s nothing to talk about. It was… a mistake, Damon. We were drunk. It didn’t mean anything.”

He winced, like the words stung more than I’d intended. But instead of backing off, he took a step forward, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made me feel like I was the only person in the world.

“That’s just it, Lex. I’ve been telling myself the same thing, but it doesn’t work. I tried… I tried everything to forget, to pretend like it didn’t matter. But nothing’s the same anymore. Nothing works.”

I frowned, trying to mask the confusion and a hint of anger simmering inside me. “What are you saying?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his messy hair. “This past week, I’ve… been with other girls, okay?” He paused, his eyes searching mine. “But every time, it felt… wrong. Empty. Like I was forcing myself. Like I was trying to forget something I didn’t want to forget.”

I didn’t know what to say. My mind raced, a tangle of anger and shock and something else I couldn’t name. “Damon, this is insane. It was just one night. It didn’t mean anything.”

His hand moved to my arm, a light touch, almost like he was afraid I’d pull away. “Maybe I am crazy,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “But I need you, Lex. I don’t know why, and it’s driving me mad, but I need you. Even if it’s just one more time.”

Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire. The part of me that had been simmering with frustration, anger, and confusion flared up, pushing me to tell him off, to shove him out the door and end this insanity once and for all. But the other part of me—the part that still remembered how his touch had felt, how he’d looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered—couldn’t resist.

I shook my head, barely able to find my voice. “No,” I whispered, trying to keep the tremor out of my words. “This is insane, Damon. We can’t just… do this.”

But instead of pulling away, he leaned closer, his breath warm against my skin. “Maybe it is. Maybe we’re both mad. But I can’t stop thinking about you, Lex. And I don’t think you can either.”

Before I could respond, his lips were on mine, a kiss that was nothing like the frantic, drunken haze of last time. This was slow, lingering, full of something I couldn’t name. I should have pushed him away. I should have stopped this before it spiraled out of control. But my mind went blank, drowned in the feel of his mouth on mine, the warmth of his body pressed against me.

I pulled him inside, the door clicking shut behind us as he backed me against the wall, his hands cradling my face like I was something fragile, something precious. My resolve crumbled, and I found myself kissing him back, the need that had simmered beneath the surface for so long finally spilling over.

His hands slipped down to my waist, pulling me closer as he deepened the kiss, and I couldn’t hold back the soft gasp that escaped me. It was intoxicating, the way he touched me, the way he seemed to know exactly what I needed without a single word. My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, until there was nothing but him, filling every inch of my senses.

Before I knew it, we were in my bedroom, his hands exploring every inch of me, his mouth tracing a path down my neck, my shoulders. I was lost, utterly and completely, in the way he made me feel, in the way he seemed to worship me like I was something sacred.

He murmured my name, his voice rough and breathless, and I felt a thrill shoot through me, a sense of something I couldn’t quite define. But it was more than just lust, more than just the heat between us. It was something deeper, something I didn’t want to acknowledge but couldn’t deny.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was a mistake. I knew that in the morning, reality would crash down on me like a wave, and everything would feel messy, complicated, impossible. But right now, with Damon’s hands on my skin, his breath warm against my neck, none of it mattered.

Right now, all I wanted was him.