Mafia

17 Lupin: Morning After

I woke up to soft sunlight streaming in the windows and the smell of breakfast flowing through the air. It didn't take long for me to wake up once I realized what I was smelling. I'd always been a bit of a blood hound when it came to breakfast food. 

I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my glasses. I looked around. I was still in Damon's room.

I held my injured hand to my chest and bit my lip, remembering the previous night. How I got the burns on my hand. How Damon found me and took care of me. How he brought me to his room. How I fell asleep in his arms. I looked around the room. Damon wasn't here. My heart fell.

Of course, I thought to myself, He probably left the second I fell asleep. 

I couldn't help but be disappointed by the thought. I've spent so many years taking care of myself and everyone around me. It felt nice to have someone take care of me for a change. 

I sighed as I looked around for my sweatshirt. Once I found it, I threw it on and made my way downstairs.

"Good morning," Damon said with a smile as I entered the kitchen. He stood at the stove making breakfast. I gave him a small smile as I grabbed a Diet Coke out of the fridge.

"Hope you're hungry," he said. He turned around and carried two plates to the table. They were both piled high with scrambled eggs, sausage, and bacon. I couldn't help but be shocked.

"You made breakfast," I said, "for both of us?"

"Yeah," he said with a smirk, "that's what people usually do after they spend the night together." I couldn't stop myself from blushing as he pulled out one of the chairs.

"Well," he said with a teasing smile, "are you coming or not?"

"Yeah," I said. I sat down in the chair, and Damon pushed it into the table before taking his own seat across from me. 

For a while, we both sat there and silently ate. I found myself glancing up at him as we ate. His hair was messy, and he was wearing gray sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. He looked like he just rolled out of bed, but in a good way. I started to feel self-conscious about my appearance. With my messy hair, rumpled clothes, and no makeup on, I probably looked like an absolute mess. 

Every once in a while, I thought I might've seen Damon glancing up at me, just like I did to him, but I only saw it over the edge of my glasses, so I couldn't be sure. 

When we were done, Damon stood up and took the dishes to the sink.

"Thank you," I said.

"You're welcome," Damon said as he put the dishes in the sink. 

"I have to admit," he said turning to face me, "I did have an ulterior motive in making breakfast."

"Really," I said with a smile, "And what might that be?" Damon's expression grew serious as he walked over and took the seat beside me, turning his chair to face me. He put his forearms on his knees and gently held my still bandaged hand.

"Oh," I said, pulling my hand from his grasp and refusing to look at him. Even with my eyes on the floor, I could feel Damon's eyes on me. His intense, unwavering gaze made me want to fold in on myself and disappear. 

"I just want to know why," Damon said.

"No," I whispered, "you don't."

"Damnit, Lupin." I held on tight to the seat as he grabbed my chair and turned it so I was facing him.

"I'm the one that saw how upset you were," he said looking in my eyes, "I'm the one that saw your hand. I'm the one that helped. I'm the one that stayed with you all night!"