Chapter 13

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Damon clicks the lock with his key and opens the door, standing aside to allow me to step in. The inside looks just as astounding as the outside, complete with a white interior as well. The white is balanced with dark furniture and bright red and teal accent colors: i.e. the pillows, lamps, and cabinet borders. Damon makes his way around me and heads to the right towards the dining room, and past that into the kitchen. I awkwardly watch him through the door-less rooms as I stand still glued to the entryway. I hear him open fridge doors and move some stuff around.

"Want anything?" He yells.

"No, I'm fine!" I yell back, feeling the large house engulf my voice.

"Are you going to stand there all day? Go sit on the couch or something."

I oblige and turn left towards the sizable black couch in the living room. I sit, or more so sink, into the leather, wanting to lean back and relax but too nervous to do so. While I anxiously wait for Damon's arrival, I look around the room. An enormous TV is positioned in front of me, and so is a glass coffee table; the couch is long and shaped like an L, with a corresponding recliner chair next to it. I notice that the wall towards the end of the room is glass, and I stand to go see his backyard. There's a rectangular shaped pool surrounded by patio and steps that lead to the groomed lawn full of various plants. A hammock sways in the back corner with a small tree shadowing it. I'm happily imagining myself reading a nice book in that hammock until Damon sneaks up behind me. He grabs my waist and brushes his nose behind my ear.

"Boo," he whispers.

I shudder slightly, "Okay Damon, you've got me here, what tricks do you have up your sleeve?" I ask trying to forget the feeling of his touch.

"Well, considering my current sleeveless state, I'd say nothing."

He points at his slate gray v-neck tee with a smirk. I scowl, and a few stands of hair fall out of their tucked position behind my ear. Damon reaches forward and gently pushes them back into place before grazing his fingers down my jaw line. I pull my head away, causing him to chuckle.

"So," he begins, "I see you tried to be funny and wear an extremely fitted outfit today to spite me."

My lips twitched upwards, "Oh, you noticed?"

"Trust me Scarlett, I definitely noticed," he replies with a flirtatious glare, "And as appealing as you look in these clothes, I did say to wear something loose for a reason."

"And?"

"Today we're watching a movie."

Wait...what?

"You put up that whole act and brought me here today to watch a movie?"

"You seem disappointed Scar," he says with a crooked grin.

"Absolutely not! I just wasn't expecting that."

If I had known "loose" was synonymous with "movie" I would have definitely worn something more comfortable. I feel myself grimace thinking about trying to be comfortable for hours on a couch in these clothes.

"I guess you'll just have to wear something of mine," Damon pipes in.

I'm immediately snapped back into reality, "Huh?"

"You wait here. I'll be right back."

"Why can't I come with you?"

"Invasion of privacy."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Absolutely not!" He mimics my tone.

"You're infuriating."

"And you're fucking hot."

That shuts me up quickly, giving him the time to leave and head towards the stairs at the front of the house. My skin heats up, but I dismiss the feeling telling myself that he only said that for me to stop pestering to see his room. I wonder why he was acting so protective over it. There can't be anything too embarrassing in it for me to see.

A couple minutes later, Damon returns with a dark t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs. My jaw drops in shock.

"You want me to wear your underwear!"

"Yeah? What's the problem?"

"It's just, uh, oh never mind just throw them to me!"

He tosses the clothes at me with a wide smirk on his lips, obviously enjoying this situation. I huff and walk off in the direction he's pointing. I leave the bathroom feeling uncomfortable as I make my way back towards the living room. His shirt is large and baggy on me, covering the bottoms of his briefs so it looks like I'm not wearing them; my hair is thrown up into a messy bun. I enter to find that he's already set everything up and the movie on the screen waiting to be played is Die Hard.

"Oh I love this movie!" I make my presence known.

He glances up from the DVD set, "Same," he responds slowly, drinking me in, "And I love my clothes on you."

"They're a little spacious."

"I also love that."

"What? That they're loose on me?"

"No, that you speak like that. You could've easily said 'big', yet instead you say 'spacious'."

I blush, "I guess that's just my type of vocabulary."

"Well your vocabulary is sexy."

I shift uneasily, feeling my cheeks deepen. Before I let him have the satisfaction of my embarrassment, I move to the couch to get out of eye sight. Once he's done, he rises and places himself next to me. A bucket of popcorn sits in front of us, and he hits play. On the same remote, he presses a button that switches off the lights, and the setting sun floods through the glass wall. I let out a sigh of relief in response to still having light in the room, but that's stripped away when Damon presses another button that somehow shades the whole slate of glass electronically. It's now pitch black in the room, outside of the TV, and I sit stiff with perfect posture, nervous about being in such a close proximity to Damon in the dark (voluntarily at least).

The couch shifts with a removal of weight, and I feel his lips on the back of my neck.

"Relax Scarlett," he says in a wisp of a breathe.

Naturally, I thought I would tense up more; but, surprisingly, I felt my body responsively relax. Damon leans back against the couch again, and I allow myself to sink into it too.

Around the time John finds out about the hostage situation, I involuntarily lean up against Damon, resting my head against his shoulder. I feel his muscles tense at the contact then relax as he brings up his arm and casually wraps it across my shoulder. I lay my curled legs over his thighs, and we continue watching the movie. No speaking, just contentment with Bruce Willis kicking ass and untitled cuddling. I didn't even know Damon was capable of cuddling, but I seem to keep finding more and more unexpected qualities from him; I decide then and there that I want to continue discovering these qualities.

After the movie ends, we sit and talk a little about said movie and others that we have in common. We sat for a good thirty minutes and listed back and forth movies we loved to see if the other agreed. It was quite possibly one of the most normal conversations we've had, and definitely the most comfortable. The longer I sat there, watching his face light up when I mentioned a movie he loved, or how his eyes closed and crinkled at the corners when he laughed, the more I felt myself slipping further in. The walls of hatred and distrust I have towards him began crumbling ever so slightly; however, I will not allow them to fall just yet.

Around nine, Damon drives me home. We pull up to my house, only 5 minutes away from his, and he comes around to my side to open the door for me. I step out and look at him suspiciously. He sees my face and asks, "What?"

"Why are you being such a gentleman?"

He laughs, "I may be a jackass, but I still have manners."

I scoff and he confirms, "Sometimes."

I giggle and immediately slap a hand over my mouth, mortified at the sound I just made.

Damon cocks an eyebrow, "You know, girls get giggly when they like someone."

"Get over yourself."

I punch him in the arm, but he grabs my retreating hand by the wrist and pulls me toward him. I inhale sharply with the sudden closeness. Damon takes his other hand and drags it up my arm to my chin, hooking his fingers underneath and raising my face to meet his. His green eyes look dark against his skin, the left half of his face glowing in moonlight, and the other just as dark as his hair. His jaw clenches ever so slightly before he speaks.

"You're vibrant, White."

"And you're dark, Black. Are we just describing shades here?"

"Oh, shut up."

Next thing I know, his lips are pressed against mine, and the fireworks are deafening.

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