Verboten

Chapter 12: Downward Spirals

Amelia's POV:

"Damien let's go." I drawled the words out exasperatedly while leaning against his office door's frame; tired of calling onto him for the umpteenth time.

It was a Thursday; Damien had the night shift, so he promised that he'd take me graduation dress shopping, promptly after promising that he - himself - is going to make it to that special event.

"Amelia, baby, give me a second." He mumbled, completely engrossed in the disarray of paperwork that was scattered on his mahogany desk; he's been saying this too for the past 30 minutes or so.

I huffed impatiently, scrolling through my phone. Damien had been extremely busy lately; I knew it was tedious for him to balance between the long tiresome work shifts and sorting a lot of issues that suddenly popped up from his past life. He was tired, it was evident on his haggard and disoriented form, but he wouldn't even speak to me about the problems he's handling; I keep asking and he keeps waving me off. It made my existence in his life feel almost trivial, and as heartbreaking as it was, I didn't utter a word afraid that I'll become the childish extra weight he's unable to withstand.

I always want his sole unwavering attention on me, perhaps because that's how it's been since we got together, but lately he seems detached and out of it; something that ceaselessly works on frightening me to the very core because the thought of him growing out of his feelings for me brings tears straight to my eyes.

His promise to take me shopping felt like a waft of fresh air after days of anxiously holding in a bated breath. The past couple of days have been wearisome; working in the hospital even as an intern wasn't the easiest thing. I keep running around tending to everything Damien and even some of the other doctors ask off me, and my hopes of spending more time with Damien were brutally crushed, perhaps because I barely see him anymore. He's always held back by patient checkups, or in the operation room; places where I am not allowed in.

Jessie keeps making it even harder for me to endure; arguments have become a constant companion to Damien and I because according to him I just can't seem to conceal my jealousy around her; and I just obediently take in his scoldings, silently apologise, kiss his cheek and ask for his forgiveness, but at the same time my tears take up every ounce of the scarce remains of my energy to stay shielded back in front of him.

I've lost count of the number of times I sneaked into the bathroom in the middle of the night to cry; I cry because Damien doesn't seem to be very lenient with me lately and I'm helpless and unsure of what to do to make him satisfied; I cry because I tried being mad at him, but the moment he hugs me I relent, and mostly I cry because I love him too much and I can't bear the mere thought of losing him.

It felt like an era later when he finally called out to me.

"Finally." I mumbled, sluggishly following him to the door.

Damien stood by the closed front door not attempting to open it; he had a faraway look on his face, and I wasn't sure if he was stuck in a daydream or not. I stood silently to his side for a couple of seconds, but when he didn't budge, I extended my arm to open the door, wanting to flee the tense emotions that were cramming up the room; I didn't want to argue anymore.

He stopped me, placed his hand on top of my arm, pulling me awfully close to him. My heart did it's typical flips, and I could feel our breaths mingling. His fingertips lightly stroked my neck, as he leaned closer until his breath was waving my ears, and he whispered, "stop acting like a spoilt brat, baby, I don't like brats." My heart sank to the pit of my stomach, and contrary to how the way he speaks lowly always sends shivers through me, this time, it made me feel forlorn.