𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗔𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ☏︎

𝟐𝟎 | 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓-𝐔𝐏

𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗔𝗘𝗛

The hot water drips down my body as I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my dainty figure. I can't stop thinking about Damien and his famous mac and cheese. Who knew he could cook so well?

I wasn't expecting him to apologise to me yesterday and I immediately melted, but I'm not mad about it. I didn't know that the silent treatment was so effective.

I dry myself off and step out of the bathroom, ready to get changed. I lather my hands with some body cream and start with my legs.

My dressing was simple, really. Just a brown jumper and some wide leg jeans. I step out of my room and go to the kitchen, bumping into someone in the process. His chest was hard and firm, as  I braced my hands on it and pushed myself off of him.

"Sorry," I say, rushing away to the kitchen as my heart rate picked up. For some damn reason, I can't help but feel nervous around him. I shouldn't feel nervous around him.

I make toast and peanut butter for breakfast, taking two pieces of sliced bread and looking for the toaster. I check the cupboards and drawers, but it was nowhere to be seen. Until I spot on the highest shelf.

Who the hell puts a toaster there?

I stretch my arm out at far as I can but my finger barely even brush it. I get one of the kitchen island stools and stand on it, easily grabbing the toaster.

How am I going to get down?

The floor looks so far down from up here. I crouch and put the toaster on the counter, and I carefully lower my foot onto the ground.

"You could have just asked me for help, you know." Damien says between the doorframe, leaning on it. So he was just watching me struggle? He walks closer to me, and each step he takes, my body heats up like he's a heat source.

Well, he is hot.

I fold my arms and glare at him, trying to mask my tension. "You could have just helped." I retort, and he holds his hands up like he's avoiding shade being thrown on him. "By the way, who puts a toaster on the top shelf?"

He looks offended. "Who doesn't?" He narrows his eyes at me. I giggle, and it's silent for a bit. I return to what I was doing, putting two slices of bread in the toaster and setting it off. "Soleil?" It rolls off his tongue so naturally that my pulse raises.

"Hm?" I hum, encouraging him to continue, my back still to him.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

"And if I don't?" I challenge, folding my arms and refusing to look at him.

He answers me by planting his hands on my hips and lifting me onto the counter, and my thighs slap against it. As he steps into the gap between my legs, heat rushes to my core and all I can think about is the proximity. I look away, avoiding his gaze.

A hand grips my chin, angling it to his face so my eyes are on him. "I'll make you." He whispers. That sends a chill down my spine. All that is audible are my breaths, and his gaze drops down to my parted lips for a second, before darting back up to my eyes.

The toaster dings, and I place my hands on his chest to push him off. "Leaving so soon?" He asks sardonically, and I don't know what to say to that. He lowers his head dangerously close to my face, and trails wet kisses down my jawline. I bite back a whimper, the feeling somewhat familiar.

His other hand comes up and grips my neck, tilting my head for a better angle. "Damien," I breathe, as he moves onto my neck. He hums against my skin, sending vibrations all over me. "My toast-"