4. Damon
Damon
It’s warm today, but the sun’s doing fuck all against the chill in the air. Not that I care. I’m sitting on a bench between the media and art building, smoking and doomscrolling.
I’m already halfway through my smoke when I see him walking out of the media building looking as broody as ever. He doesn’t see me at first and I take that moment to take him in. Same hazel eyes, same brown hair, same confident gait that does nothing but piss me off.
He hasn’t changed much. Still acts like he’s untouchable. Still full of shit.
I make sure the cherry on my smoke flares when he finally notices me. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him stopping, and I know he’s deciding whether to ignore me or confront me. I hope it’s the latter.
Then his shadow falls over me and I can’t help but smirk.
“You stalking me now, Ward?”
I glance up and exhale a slow stream of smoke that curls lazily around my head. “Relax, Hotshot. Art and Media studies are right opposite each other.”
He clenches his fists at the nickname I know he hates, but he doesn’t bite. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me. “You got something you wanna say to me?”
I take another slow drag of my cigarette, letting the silence stretch just long enough to piss him off. “You’re wound tight. It must be so exhausting to be you.”
“Cut the shit,” he snaps. “Why the fuck are you here?”
I let my eyes rake over him while running my tongue over my teeth. “Maybe I want to get to know you better.”
He immediately stiffens up at this. “Bullshit. You’re not here to make friends. So what is it? You here for revenge? Closure? To make my life hell?”
I can’t help but chuckle at this as I get to my feet. “You think everything is about you, don’t you?” I ask, raking my eyes over him and watching him squirm. “Newsflash, you’re not as important as you think.”
I let the cigarette dangle from my lips as I brush past him, but his hand shoots out to grab my bicep, yanking me back to face him. “Don’t play games with me, Damon. You won’t fucking win.”
Smirking, I tilt my head to the side and take a drag of my cigarette before I let it fall to the floor and crush it under the heel of my boot. Then I blow the smoke directly into his face.
“Win? Is that all you think this is? A competition?” I ask, leaning in and dropping my voice to a whisper. “Careful, Hotshot. You’re starting to sound scared.”
“And you’re nothing but fucking trouble.” His grip tightens on my arm, but he doesn’t say anything else as his hazel eyes burn into mine.
“Yeah? Then why can’t you let go?”
Roman’s jaw ticks, but his grip stays firm, fingers digging into my arm like he’s holding onto more than just my skin. His eyes are the kind of hazel that shifts with the light, flecks of amber and green catching like wildfire.
I drag my tongue over my bottom lip, watching as his gaze flickers to my mouth, then back up to my eyes. “You gonna let me go, or should I make you?”
For a second, I think he might actually snap, but then he pushes me away and sneers. “Stay the fuck out of my way.”
I laugh and brush off my jacket. “I’ll think about it.”
As I turn to walk away, I can feel his eyes on my back. He’s rattled and I fucking love it. “By the way,” I call over my shoulder, but I don’t bother to look back at him. “Caleb would’ve hated what you’ve become. Thought you should know.”
I don’t need to look back to know my words have hit their mark and I continue walking, knowing I’ve chipped away at him.
Thing is, Caleb would hate what Roman has become. But he’d hate what I’ve become even more.
By the time I’m halfway across campus, my heart is fucking pounding with exhilaration. Seeing how I’ve gotten under his skin has gotten my cock hard and that’s confusing as fuck in itself.
Stop playing games, D.
Caleb’s voice bleeds into my mind and I shake my head, lighting up another smoke. “Shut up,” I mutter under my breath as I take a slow drag.
He’s not worth it. None of this is.
I blow out a stream of smoke as my jaw tightens. “You wanted this, remember? You’re the one who told me to make him pay.”
That’s not what I said.
I clench my teeth and shake my head, grabbing a fistful of my hair to drown out Caleb’s voice. It’s been years, and it still catches me off guard. I didn’t hear it when I was on my meds, which should already explain a lot of shit. But without it, I can hear his voice, and that’s enough for me.
It’s too late to turn back now, little brother.
I drop the cigarette and head for my bike. I have no more classes for the day, and right now I want to drown out these voices with music before I fucking crash out. I swing my leg over and feel oddly calm at the familiarity of the bike beneath me.
“Soon, Hotshot,” I murmur as the bike roars to life. “Real fucking soon.”