Past Lives (Dark/Damien x Reader)

ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ᴏɴᴇ: sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛs

"Will?"

(Y/n) had visited the majority of the wings in the mansion, all the while successfully avoiding the man Dark himself. She was sick of his little games, and the fact that he thought he could get away with so much agitated her even more.

Will, of course, was no longer on the couch. There was every possibility that Dark and (Y/n)'s argument had woken him up and maybe even scared him off. He seemed to be traumatized just by her name, so hearing her yell probably wouldn't have sat well either.

She was currently in the farthest west wing. It seemed as if no one bothered to clean it up here, considering that it was dark and dusty everywhere she walked. Even her feet lightly walking over the floor cause dust to float up from the old carpet. (Y/n) was allergic to dust mites, so she knew that she was in for a treat when she walked up these steps. Man, her sinuses would be kicking her butt after a few minutes of this. She tried to keep her arm against her nose and mouth, but it would still leave her eyes open to attack.

(Y/n) walked down a dark hallway, pushing open every door that she found. It was kind of like a hotel, or maybe a condo from how disgusting this area was. She was expecting a rat to jump out at her any second now. She opened up another door, only being met with a dank bedroom. It was different from all of the other rooms that she saw — most of which being simple game rooms or just rooms with couches and nothing else. it didn't even look like any of these rooms were complete.

She let out a sigh, closing the door as she deemed the room unworthy of Wilford presence. Where could he have been? There weren't many places for him to run off to. And why she hadn't seen any signs of life in this area unnerved her.

The district attorney also wasn't paying much attention to absolutely everything in the mansion's quarters. Her thoughts were preoccupied with what she could do with Dark. Obviously, the man was a lot more than she had bargained for. Sure, he may have loved this '(Y/n)' from the past, but then why did he profess to love her as well? Maybe she was a lot more like the older version of herself than she realized. After all, Dark always knew how to get around her and play with her heart. He seemed to have an idea of her weak points, so that told her enough about her ancestor's relationship with Dark.

Even so, she was a little more different. Not really because her personality was different, but because he didn't account for modern times and the ethics that came with it. People have no attachment to partners and marriages like they did back then. Women aren't so easily pushed over now as opposed to before. That was something that Dark would eventually learn, but it would be a while before he got it down pat.

A part of her did feel bad for how she yelled at him. He looked incredibly hurt by her statement — but why? She was only speaking the truth when she said that she wasn't who he continued to think she was. It wasn't (Y/n)'s fault that she looked like someone from his personal past.

She turned the knob on another door, pushing it open to reveal a room with a lamp on inside the room. Since it contrasted from the other rooms that were dark and lifeless, (Y/n) had an immediate spark of curiosity. Maybe Will was in here?

The girl carefully shut the door behind her, making sure that the door didn't lock behind her — a constant paranoia of hers. Once that was clear, she made her way carefully around the room.

The walls were covered in bookcase after bookcase, but it was only the size of one of the other guest rooms. as this a personal library? Who's was it? And who had been in here recently? There were no other doors in the room, so the door she came through was the only exit. How long had the light been on?

Speaking of which, a desk lamp shone on top of the centerpiece of the room — a thick wooden desk with papers messily stacked up. Who had to fill out all of these papers?