Stay with Me by Awesomekristii (jenna bush book club .TXT) 📖

DELILAH

The bright light infiltrating into the room, made a groan leaving my lips. I stirred trying to bring the sleepiness of before but I couldn’t. It’s already broken and extinguished.

Rolling down the covers, I looked for the time and it’s already seven. I haven’t made the breakfast yet. I stood up as quickly as possible and looked at the couch for any sign of him, but it was as perfect as new. The comforter was folded neatly at one corner and there was no sign of him. Must be up.

I grabbed a rubber band from the bed stand and gathered my hair in a bun. My eyes fell on the drawer and the note resting there. I didn’t know still what to make out of it.

I knew I wasn’t safe enough, and the demons if the past weren’t withering away just like that yet somewhere I hoped I had left my ogres of past behind. Guess I was wrong.

I closed my eyes trying for any reassurance from inside. Yet I found none.

My mind went through the narrow streets of the past, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk down there anymore, the images haunt me still today. Nearly a month later, away from them. But I don’t know how long was this freedom for me.

I tried gathering up some positivity in the early morning and walked inside the washroom. I freshened myself and grabbed my brush from the brush stand.

My stomach fluttered again as I took in the view of my stuff positioned inside the bathroom. Beside his. From the last few days, and mostly after that night, I couldn’t stop my heart from beating frantically while thinking about him.

I couldn’t cease the fluttering in my stomach and the shivers in my body whenever he was near.

We didn’t kiss again, and despite being grateful for that I couldn’t stop myself feeling a little sadness swirling inside.

I had known we couldn’t be anything more. They were just moments of weakness. Yet, I know somewhere or the other, in this façade we were playing, I would surely gonna lose something and that would be my heart.

••••

The spectacle downstairs weren’t something I have imagined. Grandma had most lavishly set up a breakfast full of sausages, eggs and bacon. Orange juice and bread even.

I walked inside the kitchen, and she was busy in preparing the coffee. “You have prepared so much, Grandma.” I grabbed a bottle from the fridge and gulped down the water.

She smiled at me, and I could already imagine my mood lifting up. She had that mothering nature around her. “It’s nothing. This is the minimal I could do.” I shook my head, startled.

“Honey,” I looked up from the apple I grabbed, “Yes?”

“Can you go and call Damien for the breakfast? He must in his gym room.” My eyes widened a little. He had that in his house. I mean mansion.

“There is a gym?” She chuckled lightly at the surprise in my voice. “Yes, and even a swimming pool. Did you visit that till now?” I had known about it but never visited. I didn’t know how to swim. I shook my head at her.

“I haven’t. I don’t know swimming.” She smiled at me, patting my cheeks. “Damien will teach you.” Ah! I didn’t want to imagine him half naked again in water.

A blush crept my cheeks and I quickly turned around to walk out from there before she could see my red cheeks.

Halfway through the floor I remembered I didn’t even ask her where the gym was. I wandered a little before finding the door and when peeked in I saw the view of a typical gym with all the fitness tools.

And when I stepped inside, the view in front made me visibly gulp. My eyes ran over a Damien only in his briefs. Sweat glistened his ripped figure, and tattooed figure.

The familiar ink work crafted over his rippling muscles, and how his back flexed as he hit punches on the red punching bag hanging there.

Few audible groans left his lips as he flexed his shoulders back before cracking his shoulder and neck muscles. He massaged his shoulders and back of his neck again.

Did he have a pain in there?

His back was turned to me so obviously he couldn’t see my presence and that gave me a little advantage to shamelessly admire him. I could never get how much I had come to like his body.

Men never gave me good vibes, neither do the muscles and tattoos. They had them and I couldn’t scratch out those memories.

Yet, looking at him and the work of art on his skin never gave rose to the puking or the horrifying disturbed feeling. It just made me behold, how dark and beautiful he was with the tattoos and without it.

They were a part of him and despite the unsettling feeling I had before looking at them, living under the same room made me realise they’re something not to be scared of.

A part of him which tell stories I was desperate to know.

Not knowing what to say, I cleared my throat grabbing his attention. He turned and I looked at his fumbled curls falling over his sweaty forehead and sticking on there.

And then suddenly, a light smile spread in his lips and if that didn’t just startled me I didn’t know what else.

“Good morning.” He unwrapped the white wrapping around his knuckles and sat on a stool. There were light scratches on his knuckles and he didn’t even hissed as he grabbed a alcohol from the first aid kept beside him and directly put it in there.

“Good Morning.” His deep voice almost rumbled my inside and most definitely my south.

“Grandma was calling for you. She had already prepared the breakfast.” He gave a jerk of his head and stood up. Another groan leaving his lips. My eyes couldn’t stop following the sweat lining down his rippled abdomen.

“Let me freshen up once.” He grabbed a towel. I couldn’t help myself from asking him, “Is there pain in your shoulders?” He looked up at me, and I could say he didn’t want to admit that.