His Name Was Damian

twenty-nine

Damian

The vibrations from my phone woke me up. Without looking, I felt around the bed before I came in contact with it. The bright light practically blinding me, I read the messages with squinted eyes.

Xavier: Wanna hang today?

Mom: Where the hell are you?!?!

Mom: ANSWER YOUR PHONE

Mom: You're grounded.

Mom: When you get home, you're in so much trouble.

I roll my eyes and throw my phone back down, putting my arm back around Naomi, laying my head back down on her chest. She breathed so softly, her chest rising barely as I laid upon it. I looked at the marks that I made last night, tracing them with my eyes as I looked at my work. My hickies covered her body, from her neck to her inner thighs; I couldn't help but smile at my work. I did that and she let me. Naomi was a heavier sleeper than me. I woke up at the smallest sound, while she woke up at the loudest bang. So when Melanie came storming into the room, Naomi popped up almost immediately.

"I'm awake," She whispers, plummeting into her pillow before rolling onto the floor. "Good morning, Melanie. What's up?"

Naomi drags a pillow down to the floor, curling into a ball. I laugh to myself; I don't even think she has noticed me yet.

"We're going shopping, remember? A winter dance is happening in a month!"

"I'm aware."

"Damian, tell her to go shopping with me." Melanie finally addresses me causing Naomi to look up to me with sleepy eyes. Confusion stained her face before she crawled back into bed with me, smothering her face into her pillow.

"I didn't forget, Melanie," Naomi yawns. "It's what, ten o'clock, right now? Can you give me, like, an hour and I'll start getting dressed?"

"You better missy or I'll have Damian drag you out of your bed."

Naomi laughs into the pillow, "Okay, okay."

Melanie gives both of us one last look before leaving Naomi's room. I stare at Naomi's back as her breathing causes her body to go up and down. She turns to face me, her dimples coming through and framing her face.

"As you know, I am not a morning person," she admits while stretching her body. "Good morning, Damian."

Oh yes, Naomi, I am very aware. Naomi had marks from her necklaces engraved into her face and her hair sat in a messy bun. She looked amazing.

I sit up and match her position, pulling her into my lap. "Good morning," I respond, leaning my head into her neck. "How'd you sleep?" I played with the hem of her shirt and she played with my necklace, only to sneak my hand around her waist.

"Good, but I think it'd be better if I got more sleep. How about you?"

I shrug, "I've always been a morning person, so I'm good to go."

"Lucky." Naomi climbs out of my lap as she shifts through her dresser to find sweats to replace her shorts. She then takes off her shirt and examines the marks on her body. I mirrored her; when she looked at her stomach, I looked at her stomach, and when she looked at her boobs, so did I.