Damien was leaning against the kitchen counter. He was wearing the same dark jeans but had changed into a gray shirt that hugged his muscular chest. He was also wearing his beanie. I loved when he wore that hat in a way that his hair peeked out from the front. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing his forearm tattoo. His angry glare was really working for me. It made me think back to his threat about angrily fucking me against the wall the night of my drunk messaging. He just looked so freaking good right now, and I caught myself forgetting why I was even here as I continued to stare at him.
