Into The Ring (Phenomenal: 2)

18 ~ On My Own

Damien woke with a jolt the next morning and groaned before rolling over and burying his head in the pillow. The smell of coffee woke him up and he turned his head, eyeing the door. He was still in Clarssia's bed but Clarissa wasn't in there with him. Pushing his hair from his face, he snagged a stray hair-tie from Clarissa's bedside table, pulled his hair back and climbed out of bed, going into the kitchen.

Clarissa was dressed and making breakfast.

"Good morning," she said without looking around.

Damien glanced towards the living room then paused. Her back was sat by the wall, packed and ready.

"You're leaving?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"In an hour," Clarissa replied.

Damien went quiet again, accepting his plate and mug without a word as she handed them to him, drifting to the sofa when she gestured for him to sit.

She took her seat as well and started to eat, looking through her phone.

"So... you can't stay any longer?" Damien asked, his voice slow, unsure he could really ask something like that.

Clarissa just shook her head. "I can't afford to miss many lectures, the course moves too fast to fall behind, even this early in the term. Besides that, I have stuff I want to do so I need to go home."

Damien was quiet, picking at his food.

"I spoke to my mum, she understands the situation, she may still kill you but you'll walk away, don't worry too much. Can't tell you how my dad will react but he won't cancel the contract or anything – least not this time."

Damien winced, looking away.

He didn't know what to say.

Thank you was the most obvious but it sounded pitiful.

She was fighting his battles for him without a second thought- well, if she had second thoughts, she hid them well.

She had got very used to fighting her own battles over the last few months; she didn't seem to think anything of fighting his.

He couldn't ask her to fight his battles – hell; he was supposed to be the fighter between them.

A pathetic one but the fighter nonetheless. Damn, how had he handled the world so easily when he'd been a champion? Those days seemed so long ago even thought it was less than a year... almost a year.

Clarissa finished her breakfast, threatened to force feed him if he wasted her hard work – proclaiming that it was a bigger deal when she cooked seeing as he was the chef between the two of them – so he quickly shoved the food into his mouth and downed the coffee – nearly choking himself.

When he realised the hour was nearly up, he threw his stuff in the sink to deal with later, saying he'd get dressed and see her to the airport.

"Don't bother," Clarissa said, opening her bag to check she had her passport.

Damien stopped in the doorway to his room, then walked back to the living room, looking at her.

"What?"

"Don't worry, you don't need to see me off," Clarissa said.

"I don't?"

"Nah, it's alright."

Damien was quiet for a moment. "But I'd like to see you off," he said, his voice low.

Clarissa looked up at him and smiled as she zipped up her bag. "I know," she said, glancing at her phone as a text sounded to indicate her taxi was outside. "But don't."