Chapter 42

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I wake up in a bed, alone. Was all that a dream? Did I dream of being at Damien's house? But when I turn around and take in Damien's room I realise it wasn't a dream.

I can hear the shower running in the bathroom. The door, however, isn't closed, it's half-open. Thank god the beds on the right side of the room, otherwise, that would've been awkward.

I take a moment to smell Damiens pillow before I get out of the bed. He smells so good. God, I could live in his bed forever, being surrounded by his scent feels like heaven.

'Really Hazel?' That voice taunts, but I don't let her ruin my moment of pure bliss. She ruins too many as it is.

I decide it would be nice if I made breakfast. But mainly to make up for...well my embarrassing breakdown.

I look through the cupboards for something, anything really to make. During my search, I check how much longer my clothes are going to take. An hour! I must have done it super long by accident.

I check my phone and my eyes bulge. It's almost one o'clock.

I try not to dwell on it too much.

I come up with eggs, bread (thankfully it has two more days till it goes out of date) and butter. So I settle on cooking what my family loves: bread with the egg in the middle.

I grab a pan and begin doing just that. I hope he doesn't mind me going through his kitchen cupboards to find those things. But most of all, I hope he likes it. I'm no chef but my family loves them.

'Unless they're lying.'

Nope, not going to bring myself down. Plus its not rocket science.

I decide to make two for myself and four for Damien since I know men have big appetites.

I'm done making two when I hear Damien call out, "Rose!" from the bedroom.

Before I can respond, he's stepping out of the bedroom in only a towel. Oh good God. It's so low on his waist that you can see the deep V trailing down to his... thank god he's wearing a towel.

I didn't realise I was staring until Damiens right in front of me. I quickly avert my gaze, feeling myself blush all over. Did he catch me practically drooling at him?

Luckily, when I look up I see Damiens not looking at me, he's looking at the food on the plates and the small set-up I have.

He appears...confused?

"You made breakfast?" he asks, peering down at me.

His features have suddenly turned stoic. I can't read his expression and it's driving me insane because I can't tell if he's angry or not. "Yes. I hope you don't mind..." I trail off, anxious.

He raises a pierced brow. "Why would I mind?" His wet hair is matted to his forehead and I feel a strange urge to brush it back. "I was gonna take you out to eat but you seem to have made yourself something."

"Us," I correct him. He cocks his head to the side, puzzled. "I made breakfast for us."

Damien doesn't say anything, just narrows his eyes at me in a scrutinising manner.

Unable to take his piercing stare, I turn to the counter to make a third bread. But even as I do that, I can still feel his gaze burning into me.

After lathering the margarine on both sides of the bread, I grab the glass and use it to cut a small circle into the bread. I carefully place the bread onto the pan, quickly jumping back when the butter sizzles out of it. I'm surprised I missed it with how clumsy I am. And then I grab the egg and crack it into the hole. I don't turn around, just watch the bubbles pop on the egg.

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