Chapter 20 â More Than Just That One Night
Turning my head from side to side, I try to shake the scene off my head and recreate thoughts that will strengthen every fiber of disinterest towards Damien.
He just didn't say he likes me, did he? I force myself to believe that I misheard things, that it was only my overly creative imagination and nothing more.
Why would he even like me? Never in my life have I thought that my arch enemy would have diverted into another way of tormenting me, and this time uses fondness to what? Control everything? He surely is too evil to think of this method.
I know a great deal of this man, and he isn't someone who will confess his heart out to someone like me. It is just too impossible.
If I know this is just some scheme to make things difficult for me. What else would this be? Damien breathes to plague me.
Hurrying off, I nearly bump to everyone I happen to pass by into. Muttering sorry is all I can do. I do not want to stay any longer in this place where I know he can easily stop me.
"Angel!" he calls.
I hear him, but I don't want to stop. Everyone is looking at us, at me in particular, probably wondering why I am running away.
I don't even know why I am sweating out. I just know I don't want to see him or even hear him out. It's a scary feeling. Hearing my heart beat so loud, overpowering my breathing, and even the little voice in my head. I'm not sure what it is saying, but I know it is not something nice. I fear it. I am disgusted by it.
"Angel!"
Not long enough, Damien has caught up to me, and his strong clutch on my hand sends feverish sensation all over me. When I turn back to look at him, I know I just turned tomato red. I am so ready to explode.
His gray eyes are piercing, and they look exactly the same as that night in his apartment âdisarming and arresting. I feel my legs tremble when he pulls me close to him. Feeling a little bit of air passing through his nose, I realize that we are so close to each other, there's no way I could be distracted by the ogling eyes around us. Damien is awkwardly resting his hand around my waist, and this touch is giving me exactly the same feeling he was giving me that one wrong night.
I am burning hot, not only because of the previous revelation but also probably because of the doubtful spectators' heightened curiosity over this commotion that is slowly ripping me apart. I try to push him away, but his grasp tightens the more I avoid him. There's no way I could get away from him. With these tiny arms and body of mine, Damien can easily engulf me.
"Please, Damien, not here," I say in a whisper.
With one quick look at my side, I see Ms. Tarth gaping at us in disapproval.
"If not here, where? If not now, when?" he replies.
"Don't create a scene, will you?"
Gossips arise. I hear two girls to my right whispering though I couldn't clearly hear what they're mumbling about.
"You don't know how much patience I stretched for you," he adds as he keeps his gaze fixed on me.
"It's not your obligation, Etheridge, and neither am I demanding it from you."
He's practically hurting me now. His fingers are wrapped around my wrist like strong chains, and the more I shake them off, the more they squeeze into my skin. Gone is the Damien whom I thought is a little merciful, whom I thought is capable of sacrificing. He's back to being the villain now â the real unforgiving one, the one who used to pester me in the cafeteria or at Max's, the one whose gaze could kill literally anything. What's happening to him? Just a few seconds ago he was so red, blushing like a young boy. Now he's still red, but fuming and demanding my sole attention.
"Why are you trying to avoid me?" The question comes in as a surprise, and it takes me into the depth of speechlessness. "Nope, not trying. You are always avoiding me like I'm some dying man with a contagious disease."
"D-damien, you're actually asking me that?" I manage to give off a disbelieving smile as I try to find an excuse for stuttering a bit. I honestly don't know what to tell him. It is true that I am always avoiding him, but I don't think I am answerable to him for that. I just have to avoid him â my unconscious has been doing it for me the whole time. It's not like I chose to avoid him. If there's a way to battle it out with him without avoiding him, I would have done that just to show I am not scared of him. But just why? Even I can't find the true answer to that.
I add, "I thought you're smart enough to figure out the answer to your own question."
He responds, walking closer to me and heaving me closer to him, "You wouldn't like my answer, Angel." I feel the length of his body, the hardness of his trunk, and those strong arms that hold me to keep me from falling down to my knees.
"I don't have time for your games, Damien." I tug him on his chest, but he doesn't flinch an inch.
"Once and for all, let's put an end to this, shall we?" A grin, a challenging one, appears across his face, and it doesn't look good. He continues, "I am tired of your snobs. I am tired of your childish ways of treating me like you dread every molecule of me."
"You're crazy!" I say, trying to laugh at his words. I wish Ms. Tarth comes and stops Damien before he does something crazier. I know we're creating a lot of scene, and it's alarming how people are doing nothing but just watch us like we're in a movie.
"You heard me." His words and breath send tingles all over my face. If someone accidentally pushes him, his face would actually land on mine, but I don't deter. I don't want him to think I am affected at all. I must remain unfazed though it is the opposite that is actually occurring.
"You heard it." His voice tones down a bit as he sees Ms. Tarth having second thoughts on walking our way, bearing on her face the castigating look I've been praying to appear.
"It doesn't mean anything," I counter.
"Never knew you're such a good liar." His eyes trace the movement of my lips. Oh, God! I wish lightning would strike me the moment I think he looks sexy when he bit his lips as a reaction to my own lip-biting. I feel my throat drying as the thought sinks deep into my brain. I didn't just think it, did I?
"If you're done, let me go!" Is all I can say.
He watches me move my gaze from side to side. I am concerned for myself. I worry what the surrounding people must think about us. They're probably thinking Damien and I are doing some overtly public display of attraction.
"Scared about what they might be thinking. So unlike you, diner girl!"
"Unlike you, rich boy, I have an untarnished reputation."
"See! That's what I like about you!" he says grinning, still with his clasp on my arm.
"And this is why I totally disapprove of everything that comes out of your mouth."
"And why is that, Angel?"
"Because they are all lies."
His mouth curves, amazed and not provoked by what I just said. Perhaps he is even amused. His face does not let go of that grin.
"I wasn't lying when I said I like you." The grin finally fades away in a matter of seconds. Damien waits for my reaction, staring at me and counting the times I flicker my eyes and move my throat. His gaze builds up the tension, and it's killing me. I can no longer pretend I am unaffected. Damien is winning, and he is slowly tearing apart the façade protecting me from him.
"What's so wrong about liking you, diner girl?" he goes on. "Does it hurt so much to find out that someone like me will like someone like you, or might even go further than like? Is it a fault now? A crime, Angel? What penalty will I get if I confess to you this way? Will I go to jail or to hell for that matter? Or do you just fear that you'd one day realize you feel the same for me? Does knowing this from me such a big pain in your ass that you'd rather pretend to hate me even if it is so obvious that you don't?"
For a moment, I feel my entire body numbing.
His face is getting closer, probably gauging the right time to kiss me. His eyes are searching me filled with passion and soul, desire and haste, hesitation and caution. Then again, I doubt he's going to kiss me for real. I'm not even letting him... I guess.
But he's already paralyzed me, and I don't think I can do anything to stop him. Just the thought of his lips on mine, makes me shiver. Will it feel the same as it did that one night in his apartment? I vividly remember how he immobilized me that night. Brief but infinite heat and hunger seeped from the pores of his skin and eyes, and he's doing it on me again. And once more, I am left with nothing to do but surrender.
"Mr. Etheridge!" Ms. Tarth's squeaky voice pulls me out of my trance.
I hurriedly pull away from Damien. An awkward silence begins to surface as Ms. Tarth eyes both of us curiously.
God! Why did I even think of him kissing me? Am I crazy now?
"What is this commotion all about? You know you're in the library. Can you tone down a little or better yet leave the vicinity and bring this little drama out of here?"
"I'm sorry, Ms. Tarth," I say apologetically. "This will not happen again." I press my sweating palms against my pants and shake my head to free my face of the burning sensation.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Tarth," Damien cuts in, "but Angel here needs a little truth, and I'm not gonna move here until she accepts the reality that she strongly denies."
"Alright," she shakes her head in disbelief, suppressing her temper because students are watching us. "Do what you want, but please lower your voice. If I hear one more distracting noise from you, I shall report this to the prefect of discipline."
"Agreed, Ms. Tarth," Damien answers with his glare moving away from the old limping librarian to the speechless me.
"Do you always like to be the subject of everyone's attention?" I manage to smile a bit after realizing how easily Damien has sent away the fastidious and stubborn Ms. Tarth. I thought Ms. Tarth will embarrass us, but Damien managed to save us both.
"Yeah, it's carved into my DNA."
"No wonder you love to destroy me by shaming me in front of everyone else. You just love the attention."
He cocks his head to the side. "You need some of this to wake you up." Then he grabs me by the arm.
Not again.
"You're a ridiculous man, Etheridge!"
Then he pulls me away to the exit door. The woman at the desk gives off a relieved look after seeing us cross the doorway to the elevator just waiting to be filled.
"Where are you taking me?" I demand.
"Somewhere private."
"I'm not coming with you," I say as we get into the elevator.
It is jammed, and people look at us unknowingly. Damien's grasp doesn't leave me. If they didn't know us, they'd probably think Damien's a possessive, manipulative kind of jerk. But everyone knows who he is, and they know that he doesn't date plain Janes, so I shouldn't worry.
"Fine, let's continue talking here." He turns to face me.
No! Not with these people watching us, I scream inside my head. This is a whole lot worse than in the library.
"We're done talking, Damien." I attempt to push the open button, but Damien corners me with both his arms against the elevator walls. People cover their mouths with their hands in shock.
"Don't blame me for being like this, Angel," he says with hooded eyes. "I am not the one playing hard to get!"
"What!" Playing hard to get?
"I'm talking here, so you better shut your mouth up or else I'll find a way to keep you listening to me. I tell you, I can always find a way, Angel," he warns.
"What else do I need to know, Damien? You've made your point. You're done telling me things that are so â"
"So what?"
I shouldn't say they're lies because it will send the man into a rapture of madness.
"So impossible," I say instead.
"There's nothing impossible, Angel. This is one example."
Huh, should I really believe him saying that he's fallen for me? For goodness sake, he's Damien Etheridge! A reputed classic playboy!
"Damien, I'm not the right person for this kind of game," I say. "Yes, we had some bad days together, and I did curse you for ruining my life, but this has to end. This has to end." I look at him straight in the eyes. "I'm really tired of your games. Let's just stop this and get on with Haynes' project. Maybe we'll realize soon enough that if we do this together, we're not that bad partners after all. Maybe this could work, and we could create something magnificent, and we both could graduate. I am willing to let you off the hook after all the things you've done to me. I mean, I appreciate what you did with Haynes and the research. And though I couldn't understand why you'd do something to this extent except for the fact that you always want to keep my blood boiling, it's really heartwarming that you thought of me though I know it's just your conscience haunting you and it's nothing romantic at all." I know I am mumbling, and I'm doing this because I couldn't think of anything else to say.
I go on, "It's not really fun with you doing your tricks on me. They're irritating. They piss me off so much that every time you appear in front of me, I want to hit your face. Making fun of someone isn't something you do to someone you like. If you like someone, you must be nice to her. You've never been nice to me, Damien, except for the Haynes thing, and it's not enough to prove that you really like me. If you really do, you must have stopped embarrassing me. You've always been harsh. Do you expect me to believe you right away when you say something like liking me when all you do to me is torment me? And for heaven's sake, why do even like me? Your friend is right. I am no match for you. Don't you see? I'm plain and poor while you're everything that I am not. We're like North and South, black and white, cold and hot. It's like a war must happen, millions must die first, and America must have its first female president before we happen. But despite all your childish plays on me, I must admit that you never fail to stir me up. I hate the effect you have on me. You're always rendering me defenseless. I hate the feeling that runs within me whenever you gaze at me like this, or when you touch me like I am yours. It's confusing like why-are-you-even-doing-it kind of thing. You're the only person who does this to me, and you're the only one who can make me so angry at myself for losing control of my patience and sanity..."
One act is all it takes to stop me from prattling nonsense.
One gentle but deep kiss silences me, and I am lost once more to the world I never imagined I'd be in. Not in here. Not now.
Damien's arms wrap around me, and he's pressing my body so close to him that I feel like melting. It feels so warm inside, yet my stomach is in chaos as I feel his tongue search inside my mouth.
My first kiss... I lost my first kiss to the one and only Damien, and I'm not even stopping him! I'm not even resisting.
Surprisingly, I seem to be enjoying the confused state of my mind and the mixing of an unknown sensation at the pit of my stomach. I could hear my pulse racing, my lungs sucking every air that could pass through the spellbinding kiss. Everything in me is pulsating. My legs are trembling, and my knees are shaking. My mouth seems to have a mind of its own.
I know this is wrong, but I couldn't stop it. I don't know what he's done to me. If I were to look at myself now, maybe I'd just laugh at the woman who vowed to hate this man and yet fell into his arms and even allowed him to kiss her so easily and so passionately. So this is how it feels to be kissed by your enemy who confessed to like you. I didn't know it could be this sensational. With Damien's hands all over me, I feel so small and fragile... and hot. His one hand travel from my back to the side of my face, and touches my already blazing cheeks, caressing it with utter gentleness.
All of my body ache for him, wanting him to touch them all.
When his lips part from mine, I let out a groan.
"Maybe you just want to be with me, Angel," he whispers right on top of my mouth, breathless.