"Why were you here yesterday, Lauren?" he inquired, his tone laden with newfound curiosity, a question poised delicately in the air, awaiting her response. Her steadfast focus on the task at hand veered momentarily as she completed the washing and turned to face him, her eyes meeting his with a quiet intensity.
At that moment, enchanted by her presence, he found himself momentarily struck by her beauty as she turned, her hair artfully gathered in a tousled bun. The question he had posed seemed to dissipate from his consciousness as her gaze captured his attention. "Damien?" Lauren's voice broke through his reverie, noting his momentary absence in the conversation.
"Please, go on," Damien urged, feeling a flush of embarrassment as he was caught lingering in his gaze.
"You asked a question," Lauren gently reminded him, her eyes reflecting a resolute determination, a silent plea for his honesty.
Sighing inwardly, Damien mustered the courage to pose the question again. "I asked, why you came here yesterday"
"To find you. I waited for your call for over three weeks, and when it didn't come, I took it upon myself to search for you everywhere before coming here," Lauren divulged in a single breath, the urgency in her voice crackling with an undercurrent of unspoken concern.
"Why would you expect a call from me?" Damien's perplexity lingered in his tone, a puzzled curiosity etching his features.
"To hear your own side of the story," Lauren asserted, going straight to the point , her gaze unwavering, seated just across from him, her eyes fixated on him with unyielding intensity.
Caught in a tempest of emotions, Damien looked downward, exhaling a heavy sigh. "There's nothing to explain, Lauren. You saw everything. You saw me—," he faltered, unable to complete his sentence, unable to meet her unwavering gaze.
"You weren't yourself, D. It was the blood rage, and it was beyond your control. There was nothing you could have done," Lauren interjected, her voice tinged with an undeniable vulnerability, the scent of sadness weaving through her words.
"How can you say that? I... I killed your mother Lauren, you should loathe me. You should have never come looking for me in the first place. What are you doing here?" Damien's words emerged through gritted teeth, laced with a dual sense of anguish and resolve. His aim was clear: to push her away with sharp-edged words, his heart pained by the necessity of inflicting such hurt.
"You sound just like my aunt," she scoffed, her tone etched with a blend of defiance and vulnerability. "You think I didn't try to hate you. You think I didn't try to find every reason to extinguish the feelings I have for you. Every waking hour, every passing day, I tried not to think about you. I genuinely tried, but I couldn't," she confessed, her eyes brimming with tears that trailed down her cheeks, her swift motion wiping them away.
Damien struggled to comprehend the unexpected tumult surging within his icy heart. Balling his hands and tucking them into his pockets, he fought against a powerful impulse to envelop her in his embrace, to seek solace in her presence and promise her the world.
"I'm sorry if I led you on in any way," he offered in apology, his gaze tinged with muted regret.
She starred at him, perplexed by his word, that was the last thing she expected him to say after confessing her feelings to him, because deep down she knew he liked her.
"You didn't lead me on. I know you feel what I feel too," she insisted, her unwavering gaze locked upon his.
"I think you've misunderstood me, Lauren. You'd have to possess a heart as that of a human to experience those feelings. Sadly, I don't," he lied, his expression a mask of chilly detachment.
"You are lying!" she retorted, her voice ringing with a blend of indignation and despair as she surged to her feet and crossed the space to his side. Her anger struck him as somewhat bemusing, and in a different circumstance, he might have been tempted to applaud her unyielding spirit.
"I am an apex predator. I am what monsters and all things wicked fear. How could you imagine I would concern myself with something as fickle as emotions, let alone for a witch?" he asserted, his words delivered without the slightest quiver of emotion.
His words landed like a blow to her very core. She had never anticipated such a stinging rebuttal from him. "If you can look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing for me, then I'll leave you alone," she challenged, her tone calm amid the raging storm of emotion that churned within her.
Her words felt like a knife piercing through his cold heart, leaving Damien to grapple with the weight of her final statement. He hesitated for a few fleeting moments before lifting his gaze to meet hers. "I don't," he declared, the words slipping from his lips with austere finality. Lauren's heart sank upon hearing his response; she sensed within her that he was not speaking the truth, but what recourse did she have?
Before she could utter another word, the ringing of her phone pierced the solemn air. Engaging with the call, she answered, "Hello, Director." Briefly acknowledging the conversation, she swiftly concluded, "Alright, I'll be there," before ending the call.
"Thanks for the meal once again," she offered in a flat voice, devoid of any discernible emotion. Damien found himself taken aback by the sudden shift in her demeanor, feeling the impulse to say something, but before he could gather his thoughts, she had already entered the elevator.
Making her way towards the exit, she soon drove off, leaving Damien to stand before the towering windows, watching her departure with a silent ache lingering within him. As she disappeared, he turned his gaze inward, pondering the emptiness that seemed to pervade his residence. Reflecting on his actions, he found himself questioning whether he had made the right choice in pushing her away, but he understood that only time held the answers.