I wake up to the sound of birds chirping.
Now there's something you hear too often in the city, I think as I sit up in bed and stretch.
Wait a minute. I don't remember getting into a bed. I glance down at my body only to see I have on a black over-sized t-shirt. I also don't remember changing out of my clothes.
As a matter of fact, I look around the room, I don't remember walking into this room. I don't even remember leaving the car.
The last thing I remember is driving in the car with Damon. I kept trying to change from some old radio station that only played music from the 70's and 80's, but Damon glared at me and told me to stop.
I guess I fell asleep in the car, but it still doesn't explain how I ended up in this really nice bedroom with only a big t-shirt and...
I look down my shirt and let out a sigh of relief when I see I still have my bra and underwear on. No wonder I felt like something was pinching me in the back while I was sleeping.
I know my first answer to all these unanswered questions I have should be Damon, but he doesn't seem like the kind of guy to do a nice thing like this. After all, he did kill an innocent man for no reason. But seeing as I technically only know two people in this town and one of them happens to be dead, I only have one choice as to who would do this.
"Damon!" I call out, my voice slightly echoing in this big bedroom.
"You called?" Damon asks as he instantly appears in the doorway with a smirk on his face.
I'm suddenly at a lost for words as I take in his appearance.
He's dressed in all black, which really brings out how shiny his dark hair is, how flawless his skin is, and how blue his eyes are. Last night under the streetlight, I couldn't truly tell beautiful he is, but now as the sunlight shines through the window, I can.
Ugh, why am I having these thoughts about him? He's a psychotic murderer!
"What?" Damon asks, still smirking at me as he uncrosses his arms and walks toward the bed. "Did my beauty take your breath away?"
Something like that.
I shake my head and clear my throat. "Did you carry me to this room and change my clothes?"
He raises an eyebrow at me as he sits down on the edge of the bed. "And what if I did?"
I shrug. "I don't know. It just doesn't seem like something you would do. Well, you taking my clothes off does seem like something you would do and in the future, please don't do that again because it's weird and makes me feel violated."
"Would you prefer for me to take your clothes off while you're awake?" he infers, a grin spreading across his face as he leans towards me.
"Uh, no," I scoff, pushing him away from me.
His grin falters ever so slightly and is replaced by his signature smirk. "Well if you must know, I did carry you up here in all your sleeping beauty, along with all of your bags because you happen to be a very heavy sleeper. I tried to wake you up as soon as we got here, but you wouldn't budge. I swear I could've set you on fire and you still wouldn't wake up."
I feel my face flush at his comment about me being a heavy sleeper. It's been one of my worst and most embarrassing habits for as long as I can remember.
"Then I laid you down on the bed and took your shoes and jacket off. Then I figured I might as well take the rest of your clothes off too, so you could be more comfortable. So I did, but I left you in your..."
