Gregory William Maxwell's P. O. V
A continuous thumping of my pen hitting the wooden desk is the only sound that reverberates around the silent office. Placing my palm on my cheek, I let out a rather dramatic sigh before raising my eyes to the person in front of me. The dramatic sound being a signal for the other person to talk and give insight on what I've asked instead I'm meg with the same continuous blank stare I've gotten since they walked into the room.
"I'm waiting for you to give me your oh so amazing wisdom." I drawl out sarcastically, hoping for anything to be spoken in return, even a blatant piss off will do but again, I'm met with an unwavering piercingly cold stare from two frosty blue eyes.
"I have nothing to say." The man utters simply, not even elaborating further while I smack both hands onto the solid wooden table in frustration.
"I literally just asked you a question Damien. Just answer it God damn it!" I scowl, not liking his lack of assertiveness which only seems to build up around me.
"I wasn't listening." Damien answers back, throwing a hand into his messy black hair as he tugs at the rather long strands so they don't fall further into his eyes. His hair is usually always perfectly trimmed but now it's longer then I've ever seen it.
"What's up with the long hair Tarzan?" I chide only to get a glare in return. Admittedly, the mere sight of being on the receiving end of the deathly stare being slightly unnerving.
"Serena said she wanted to see what I'd look like with slightly longer hair. I decided to grow it out a bit to see myself." He replies to which I nod, a smirk making its way onto my lips at the thought of how his wife has him wrapped around her little finger.
"Hmm. Well since I know how invested you are in the previous conversation we were having," the sarcasm laced in my words flies over him as he tilts his head in my direction which I take as my cue to continue on, "I had asked you when you knew you loved Serena. Like what was the defining moment where you realised how screwed you are." I finish with bated breath, desperately wanting to know what his answer will be.
Damien doesn't say much for a few moments, deep in thought before he lets out a thoughtful 'hmm' and splays his fingers out in front of him, "I guess I realised I loved her when I found her annoying antics to be somewhat bearable. Some might even say endearing."
My blank stare is followed by a loud thud as I bang my head against the desk, followed by a muffled groan more so of frustration than of pain.
"That was the stupidest answer I could have gotten." I grumble aloud as I prop myself up, meeting his familiar glare once more.
"I am assuming this is about that woman Ava or something." He throws out with cautious eyes while I raise a brow at him.
"Her name is Ada and she is my girlfriend but yes. I mean it might be too soon for some people but I'm just confused. Am I in love with her? Is this me liking her on a higher degree. Man I don't know." I nearly cry out, the angst of the plaguing thoughts finally getting to me.
"Each person is different and each person defines love in different ways. I can help to a certain extent although Serena is more fitted to this touchy feely issue you have going on." I scoff our loud at his words. As if Serena wasn't the first person I thought of when it came to this.
"She said she was busy and so I'm stuck with the next best thing. You. The living version of a brick wall." My snarky comment gets a mere grunt out of him. Another wail of sorrow escaping me at the thought of my imminent demise.
A few moments lapse by in silence till I hear the sound of Damien tapping his fingers swiftly against the chair he sits on, "You have to think about it. What do you feel like when you're around her? Is she the focal point of all your attention? How do you feel when you're not around her? And most importantly, what does she mean to you?" The barrage of questions render me speechless. Not only in regards to the intensity of them but more so who they're coming from.
YOU ARE READING
Conflicted
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