Strangers | ✔️

three (and a little more)

wednesday ☼

"What?" I screamed, face heating up. Damien looked up at me expectantly from his spot on the floor.

"Yes?" He raised an eyebrow calmly.

"I'm–what? No! I'm not going to play... strip poker with... with anyone! Let alone with a stranger!"

I took a step back and held my hands up like he was going to assault me after I uttered those words.

"A stranger?" His smirk bloomed like a flower in summertime. "If you say so, then."

Did he not think we were strangers? I had barely ever talked to him before. Wouldn't exactly call us friends.

"Why not? Are you too scared?" Damien interrogated, and I buried my head in my hands; my blush had probably spread across my whole face by now.

"No! I mean... yes! Yes, I'm scared. How–how would anyone not be scared of playing... with a stranger."

"Aw, you're no fun, scaredy cat." Damien pouted, but I could barely see any disappointment on his face. Right. Of course he wasn't serious. He was just... making fun of me. Waiting for my reaction. I gave him exactly what he wanted.

I sighed quietly and sat down across from him, hugging my knees.

"Just poker, then." He started shuffling the cards.

"We don't have chips." I tilted my head.

"We'll use real money." He pulled out his wallet.

"What? But–"

"Don't worry. I'm not here to scam you. We'll reset everything when we're done. You'll have your money back."

Like I was going to let him win.

I nodded and dug out my wallet to pull out a few bills and some coins.

Damien smirked at me after he looked at his cards.

"Please, do enjoy your last moment of peace."

* * *

"How come you aren't with your friends?" Damien asked me as he took a few coins from me. I winced.

"They're at a bar. Partying, probably. I'm not interested in that kind of stuff." I said distractedly, watching as he burnt a card then laid out the flop.

"Hm." He looked at his cards again. "I'll raise."

"Seriously? On the flop?" He shrugged and grinned at me.

"My friends went to a bar yesterday, too. They were all hungover this morning. It's why I left the hotel."

"Oh. Are you not hungover?"

"No. I didn't drink a lot."

"But the library?" I nibbled on my lip, barely focusing on the conversation. I had a chance this round.

"What about the library?" Damien narrowed his eyes at me, but I doubted it was about my mention of the library.

"Why go to the library? Didn't know you liked reading." I met his eyes for a quick second, but I quickly looked down again.

"Hm. Reading is fine. I figured it'll be a nice change from my noisy friends." He muttered, tapping a coin on his shoe. He finally placed it in the middle.

"Didn't expect to see you there, though." He smiled an awfully sweet smile, and my heart pounded. "Let's see what you've got, stranger."

We flipped our cards over at the same time.

"Yes!"

I grinned and snatched the money away from the middle.

"A straight." Damien shook his head. "Should've known." I laughed upon seeing his disappointed expression, passing my cards back for him to shuffle.

"Did you know this whole time we were in the same hotel?" I asked.

"I saw you in the lobby on Monday."

"Hm." So he probably didn't see me on the plane? "Shouldn't you go back to your friends now? I doubt they're still hungover."

"Nah. I'd rather be alone today." His eyes were fixed on the cards. I wanted to tell him that being with me hardly counted as alone, but I kept my mouth shut.

"I mean, if they make you uncomfortable, you shouldn't spend time with them." There was a certain tone in his voice that urged me to say that.

"No, no. I don't dislike them. They're just too much sometimes."

The tone of his words sent me a flashback to when we were younger. He always gave off an impression that he was older than other kids our age. Calm and sharp-witted, he radiated a matureness. When his friends bullied Allie, he never seemed to care; he would stand on the side, expression cold. A single glare from him would scare a child away, and to be apathetically looked down like that, like we were worthless pieces of garbage not even worth his emotions... it was humiliating.

I was suddenly reminded of who Damien was. Maybe I was being unfair, but I didn't know if Damien had changed. I didn't understand why I was here, with him, of all people, playing a game of poker like nothing had ever happened.

Not a single apology uttered.

Did he think I would just forget anything?

Did I think I can just forget everything?

Treat him like a brand new person? Just a nice boy with soft hair who offered a sudden invitation to hang out on a hot and boring day... Like we didn't know each other at all.

My hand shook as I knocked the floor and checked.

When I looked up again, I met Damien's eyes. There was an understanding in them, as if he had seen right through me and scrutinized all my thoughts. He pursed his lips, let out a breath.

"I fold." He whispered.

There was absolutely no need to fold–I had checked, and he very well could've done so too and delt the next cards. But he didn't. He took all the cards back into his hands, loose curls of hair falling over his lowered face and barricading him from me.

He radiated a dejection that overwhelmed me and deprived me of air, and I felt like saying sorry to him even if he was the one who owed me an apology.

Or perhaps... perhaps the shiftless "You coming?" was a silence plead for forgiveness from a proud boy who couldn't quite bring himself to damage his ego.