Rain or Shine | Soulmate AU 1.5 |

9

Dr. Raze doesn't bother me with any questions when the time for my next dose comes around. They must have me on some kind of dosage schedule, but it's been hard for me to keep track of time since I got here.

Damien meets me in the living room of the suite we secretly shared for so long, grinning like an idiot from the other side of the stovetop. There's a pot of boiling water and another of white sauce. Alfredo sauce. He's making fettuccini alfredo, something I haven't had in ages in real life. He took me to some fancy Italian restaurant for our six-month anniversary and I ordered the same dish. I was a goner for it even though I never really liked Italian food.

"What'cha doing?" I ask, sliding into a stool across from him.

"Cookin'," he replies with the flirty quirk of an eyebrow.

"I can see that," I say with a nod, clasping my hands before me on the marble countertop. "What's the occasion?"

He gives me a funny look, placing the wooden spoon he was stirring the sauce with on a spare plate.

"Our anniversary?" he says, words tilting upwards at the end like it's more of a question than an answer.

I blink owlishly at him, trying to catch up.

"Oh," I say, swallowing thickly and trying my best to not choke on my words. "Right."

"I know you've been busy," he says, grabbing another spoon to stir the pot of pasta, "I know you didn't forget or anything."

"Yeah," I agree with a frantic nod and the sincerest look I can muster. "Of course. I could never forget something like this." He accepts the explanation easily and I allow myself to relax a little. His soft smile is enough to release the tension in my shoulders.

There's no way of knowing what anniversary he's talking about. A year? Two? It doesn't matter, though. This Damien isn't real, and I have no way of knowing what would happen if I told him the truth.

I make it all the way through dinner once he's done cooking. It's like every other dinner we had before he died. We joke and laugh and nothing is too awkward or serious like dinners meant to be official dates can be for other couples. Damien fidgets quite a bit more than normal, but I try not to focus on it.

He gets up from his chair once we reach a lapse where it seems both of us are done eating. At first I think he's going to take our plates to the sink or something, but he comes around to my side of the table with a determined expression set into his face. The determination wavers a bit when he actually looks down and meets my eyes, but he doesn't back down.

He drops to one knee in front of me and my mouth pops open. All the air is sucked out of the room. My stomach is nonexistent. I'm plummeting down a well with no bottom in sight. I look down and there's a box in his hand holding the same ring that I wear on a chain around my neck.

I feel like I'm entirely justified in my gut reaction, which is to burst into tears.

Damien's face goes from hopefully nervous to downright gutted in a split second, but I can't catch my breath well enough to comfort him.

"Hey, hey," he tries to soothe. His normally sure voice is quivering, though, and I feel like shit for it. I did that. "Hey, baby, don't cry. It's okay."

I shake my head violently.

"It's not okay. Nothing's okay right now, Dame. Everything is wrong."