đ Alisa đ
I couldn't sleep.
Again.
Which was honestly rude because after everything that happened, my body deserved rest and a standing ovation.
I tossed beneath the blankets dramatically before sitting upright with a groan.
Why was my heart beating like this?
Every single time I closed my eyes, I saw Mr Gorgeous touching my hair gently.
So stubborn.
I buried my burning face into a pillow and screamed silently.
Why was he so handsome?
Why did he smell so good?
Why did his voice suddenly sound softer whenever he talked to me?
And most importantlyâŠ
Why did I like it?
I groaned again before climbing out of bed.
Maybe water would help.
Or maybe I'd accidentally fall down the stairs and die peacefully.
Both sounded wonderful.
The mansion was unusually quiet as I tiptoed downstairs wearing my giant fluffy sweater.
Halfway through the hallway, I noticed light spilling from beneath a door.
Curiosity immediately possessed me.
I crept closer slowly before peeking through the slightly open door.
And froze.
Mr Gorgeous stood shirtless in the middle of the room.
OH MY SWEET ANCESTORS.
My eyes widened so hard they almost abandoned me.
His back faced me, muscles flexing slightly as he dried his hair with a towel. Water rolled slowly down his skin and disappeared beneath the waistband of his sweatpants.
Illegal.
Absolutely illegal.
My poor innocent heart started malfunctioning instantly.
Then I noticed it.
The scars.
My smile disappeared slowly.
There were so many.
Long faded scars stretched across his back and shoulders like painful reminders carved into his skin. Some looked old. Some deep.
Too deep.
What happened to him?
A sharp breath escaped my lips accidentally.
Damien froze immediately.
Crap.
SlowlyâŠ
Very slowlyâŠ
He turned around.
And caught me staring.
Our eyes locked.
Oh no.
OH NO.
I panicked instantly and tried escaping but my foot caught the rug dramatically.
"Ahhh!"
I braced for death.
Only for strong arms to suddenly catch me before I hit the floor.
My eyes flew open.
Damien stared down at me with one arm securely around my waist.
Too close.
Way too close.
Water droplets still clung to his chest.
His damp hair curled beautifully around his forehead.
And his stupid gorgeous face was inches from mine.
"Were you spying on me?" he asked quietly.
"No."
"You were outside my room."
"I was spiritually passing by."
One of his brows lifted slowly.
"That's not a thing."
"It should be."
His lips twitched slightly.
My heart somersaulted.
Again.
Then suddenly his eyes narrowed.
"Why are you awake?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
"This is my house."
"And these are my eyes. We both own things."
He stared at me for three silent seconds before shaking his head like I physically exhausted him.
"Impossible girl."
I grinned proudly.
Then realizedâŠ
Wait.
His hand was still on my waist.
And mine were gripping his shoulders.
My face turned red instantly.
Apparently his brain noticed too because his expression shifted slightly.
The air suddenly felt strange.
Heavy.
Warm.
My eyes accidentally dropped to his lips.
Big mistake.
A very dangerous mistake.
Because Damien noticed.
His gaze darkened immediately.
And suddenlyâŠ
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us breathed properly.
The entire world seemed to pause around us.
Thenâ
"Damien?"
We sprang apart instantly.
Patrick stood at the end of the hallway staring at us suspiciously while eating cereal from the box.
"How long have you been standing there?" Damien asked coldly.
Patrick shrugged. "Long enough."
I immediately hid behind Damien in embarrassment.
Patrick gasped dramatically.
"Oh my God."
"Don't start," Damien warned.
"You almost kissed!"
"We did not."
"You were breathing each other's oxygen!"
I covered my face with both hands.
Damien looked ready to throw Patrick through a wall.
Patrick pointed at us excitedly. "I knew it! Sexual tension!"
"There's no tension," Damien snapped.
"Really?" Patrick grinned wickedly. "Then why is Lisa blushing like a tomato?"
Traitorous face.
"I'm hot," I mumbled weakly.
Patrick's grin widened. "And why are you shirtless at 2am?"
Damien looked down at himself blankly before muttering a curse.
Then his glare landed on me again.
"Go back to bed."
"Make me."
Wrong answer.
Before I could blink, Damien suddenly threw me over his shoulder.
I screamed loudly in shock.
"Kidnapper!"
"Be quiet."
Patrick collapsed against the wall laughing hysterically while Damien carried me upstairs effortlessly.
"You barbarian!" I yelled while hitting his back.
"You weigh nothing."
"That's rude."
"You're dramatic."
"You're shirtless!"
"âŠWhat does that have to do with anything?"
"It's distracting!"
He almost stumbled.
Almost.
I smirked proudly.
Victory.
Damien entered my room before dropping me onto the bed unceremoniously.
I bounced dramatically against the mattress.
"Ow."
"You'll survive."
Lies.
He turned toward the door immediately like he planned to escape.
Coward.
"Mr Gorgeous?"
He paused.
"What?"
I hesitated briefly before speaking softly.
"The scars on your backâŠ"
His entire body went still instantly.
Silence.
Dangerous silence.
Then slowly, he looked over his shoulder at me.
And the expression in his eyes made my chest ache painfully.
"Go to sleep, Sea Girl."
His voice was cold again.
Closed off.
Guarded.
Before I could say another word, he walked away.
And for some reasonâŠ
Watching him leave hurt more than it should have.
âââââââââââââââ
đż Damien đż
I stood under freezing water for almost an hour after leaving her room.
Because my mind refused to behave.
One second more.
That's all it would've taken.
One more second and I would've kissed her.
Actually kissed her.
I leaned both hands against the shower wall and cursed under my breath.
What was happening to me?
Why did every little thing she did affect me this badly?
Her smile.
Her laugh.
Her tears.
The way she looked at me like I wasn't completely ruined.
Dangerous girl.
Very dangerous girl.
Then my thoughts drifted toward the scars she saw.
My chest tightened instantly.
I hated those scars.
Hated what they represented.
Hated the memories attached to them.
And yetâŠ
The look in Alisa's eyes wasn't fear.
It wasn't disgust either.
It was sadness.
Like seeing those scars hurt her too.
That terrified me more than anything.
Because for the first time in yearsâŠ
Someone looked at my broken pieces and didn't run away.