Damien turns to me, confusion painting his features. He grabs the remote and pauses on the girl's breasts.
That makes me erupt into a full-blown coughing fit, tears gather in my eyes and I struggle to regain myself.
He grabs the glass from my hand, places it on the table then bridges the distance between us and gently pats my back. Soon enough, I manage to calm down.
"You want some water," he asks as I'm trying to catch my breath. I nod my head, yes and instead of giving it to me like I expect him to, he brings the glass up to my lips.
Eyes wide, I part my lips, watch him attentively as he carefully gives me small sips of water.
I can't help staring at him. His blue and green eyes are like a rain forest. His long curly lashes hit his cheeks every time he blinks. His curly dark brown hair a dishevelled mess. His shirt, too tight in all the right places. And his full lips, dark pink with that silver hoop that makes my core clench.
When he pulls the glass away, I come to my senses and look away. Wiping my lips with the back of my hand, I mutter an intelligible, "sorry."
I stand up and he removes his hand from my back before it moves dangerously low.
I'm shocked to find myself not relieved but disappointed.
My brain begs for an escape so I do the next best thing, I run away for a couple of seconds. "I'll go fill up the glasses." Before the full sentence has left my lips, I'm grabbing the glasses and moving toward the kitchen.
What is wrong with my body today? Actually no, it's been acting strange ever since I met Damien. I wish I could say it's nice to not feel repulsion by a man's touch, but I'm afraid it's my body tricking me. A big part of me wants to revel in the moment but once the fear returns — and I know it will — I'm afraid of the psychological effect it'll have on me. I'm afraid of tasting hope.
I take my sweet time filling the glasses, needing to give myself a moment to collect my thoughts. Staying here has exceeded what I imagined it would be like — I thought as soon as I got here we would go into separate bedrooms and fall asleep.
I fail to comprehend us sitting on the couch and eating Chinese food as if we're a normal couple. Not to forget to mention, sleeping in the same bedroom. Albeit, I will be sleeping on the ground, but all of this is still so unnerving.
I turn on my heels, ready to finish my food as fast as I can — hiccups be damned — and fall asleep. But freeze at the sight before me; to my utter horror, Damien has put the porn back on.
Uncomfortable, I look around me. My stomach growls loudly and Damien looks over his shoulder at me.
I cringe. Traitor stomach. I notice I look weird randomly just standing here but I also don't want to be anywhere near that porn. My stomach growls again but not as loudly this time, only I can hear it.
Too soon, I give up. I'm too hungry. Keeping my gaze pinned on the ground, I return to the couch.
I place the water on the table then remove my glasses and put them next to it. I guess being half-blind does have its perks.
I pick up my plate and sit down. I try to concentrate on eating but it becomes excruciatingly difficult when they start moaning.
Okay, no, I can't take it anymore. The fork drops onto the plate with a loud clang, my composure flying out of the window. "Can you turn that off please," I snap, my voice harsher than I intended. The fact that he doesn't feel ashamed watching this in front of me is weird.
Damien gives me a strange look. "Why?"
Why? Is he seriously asking me why? It takes everything in me to suppress a scoff at his cluelessness. He's asking me why I want him to turn this porn off? I've never even seen porn.
"Because it's inappropriate, and I'm eating." He's acting like eating and watching this is normal. God, I've never even seen a mans ass before and now I have, all thanks to Damien.
"It's just sex," he shrugs.
I purse my lips, annoyed. Did what I just say go through one ear and come out the other? "Can you please just skip it?" I ask, kindly.
Is this how he treats his guests; turn porn on.
"Fine," he rolls his eyes but skips it without further argument.
I startle. Wow, I didn't think it would be that easy.
I put my glasses back on and resume eating. But I don't look at the tv, too afraid of embarrassing myself again.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Damien craning his neck side to side, his face constricted with pain.
I've caught him doing this then and again for quite some time now but have been too scared to ask if he's okay. Not because I think he'll strike me — never that — but because I'm petrified of making him angry by intruding.
He arches his spine, grabs a pillow and places it behind his back. That seems to do the trick because his face visibly relaxes.
It hasn't been more than two minutes when Damien begins fidgeting again. He grabs another pillow and piles it on top of the previous one. I don't think it helps because he chucks it on the ground with a low annoyed sigh.
The words tumble out of me before I can stop myself. "Are you okay?" Annoyed with myself, I squeeze my eyes shut. I practically have to force myself to open my eyes and turn my head to face him.
When I look at him I see he's watching me almost curiously. My cheeks heat under his penetrating gaze and just as I'm about to lower my eyes, he nods his head yes and looks back at the tv.
I can tell he's lying by the strain in his posture.
Don't Hazel. Just shut up. For God's sake don't say it.
YOU ARE READING
Stained
RomanceHazel has ambition and drive. Everything in her life is calculated. She has rules and regulations specifically set in place to make her dreams come true. Applying to her dream college on a whim and getting accepted isn't one of them, especially not...