"So now are you ready to have some fun?" Damon asks as I walk into the living room.
After we finished breakfast aka Damon ate the rest of my pancakes and I just watched him, I decided to take a shower and declined Damon's offer when he insisted that he should join me.
When I got out the shower, I found Damon lying on the bed, waiting me. I yelled at him to get out, but he proceeded to tell me that it happened to be his room and was completely fine with me changing in front of him.
Disgusted that I slept in his bed, I groaned and grabbed the clothes I laid out for me to change into from Damon's hand and stormed back into the bathroom, Damon's laughter echoing throughout the bedroom.
He was gone when I got back, so I brushed my hair out, letting the waves fall down my back and went downstairs.
"I have a strong feeling that your definition of fun is different from my definition of fun," I say, sitting down on the couch and pulling my feet up beside me. "But sure. What do you have in mind?"
"We should play..." he pauses for dramatic affect. "...Manhunt."
"Hell no," is my fast reply.
Damon seems taken aback. "What? Why not?" he asks, a slight pout forming on his face.
"Because you're a psychotic murderer. That's why not," I laugh, amused at the fact he even questioned my answer.
He rolls his eyes. "We've already gone over this, Gabby. I'm not going to hurt you."
I raise an eyebrow. "Really?" I hold my wrapped up wrist. "And what about this? Was this your way of welcoming me to town?"
"Okay, so I won't hurt you again," he rephrases. "Now will you play?"
"Sure," I start and Damon fist pumps. "On one condition," I continue.
"I shouldn't expect anything else from you, Gabby," he mutters, flopping down in a chair across from me. "Shoot."
"I'll play Manhunt with you if you tell me everything about you," I say, a sweet smile spreading across my face as I put emphasis on the word everything.
"What? No way," he protests.
"Fine. Then I'm not going to play with you. Find some other girl to entertain you," I say, crossing my arms over my chest and turning away from him.
"You can't do that."
"Watch me."
Suddenly Damon is standing in front of the couch, leaning down to my eye level. "No one tells me no. I always get my way," he says, angrily, narrowing his eyes at me.
"Well now I'm telling you no unless I get my way," I snap as I stand up, crossing my arms over my chest and returning his glare.
"You don't want to mess with me, Gabriella," he sneers.
"And why not?" I challenge. "You're going to bite me really hard and leave me stranded in the middle of a highway as I bleed out to death? You said it yourself, Damon-" I uncross my arms and move closer to him, so we're only inches apart. "You won't hurt me," I say slowly, poking his hard chest with every word.
Damon's icy blue stare hardens as he leans in even closer and I feel my heartbeat quicken, but I continue to stand my ground, breathing in and out slowly.
Finally, Damon stops glaring at me and sighs, taking a step back and sitting on the couch.
"What do you want to know?" he asks apathetically.
