AN UNEXPECTED GUEST

I get out of the Uber and drag my ass inside my residence. Curse that jerk for making me look and feel like total crap! And curse my father for his bellicosity, which wrecks my happiness and my peace! Screw those dummies I call my friends. Screw everyone, and fuck the whole world!


It seems like I am all alone in this world now since I can't vouch that Grace won't do the exact thing Rose and Sherry are doing to me in case my father reaches out to her. Life really sucks!

I fish out my key upon lunging at my door and unlock it, hauling myself inside. I lock the door behind me and scamper for the light socket with my hand on the wall. I press the switch, and the lights glisten, illuminating the room. I turn around, weighing whether to have a cold drink first or a hot shower. My two remedies, which I cannot even vouch for, will not help at all. There are pains that just have no remedy. You just have to bear with them until they disappear on their own. And what I am going through is one of them.

Flinging around, my feet latch onto their tracks instantly after I do so. A duo of the familiar bottomless, dingy brown pools are flaming at me from the couch.


I had to take long, countless blinks just to make sure that I was not hallucinating. It is not my weak, expectant brain playing tricks with me. But after repeating the therapy countless times, this figure is still staring at me.

What the heck!


He is not supposed to be here. He cannot be here.

Another series of closing and opening my eyes follows, hoping that my eyes are deceiving me. But all ends in vain. The jerk is really here, in my house.

By the looks, he only made a stop at a bar parlor after leaving my shop earlier, only to grab the John Walker bottle of whiskey that is lying on the table almost half empty. He is in the same bureaucrat suit, with the coat and tie lying on the couch.

Is my house a bar now? What the fuck is he doing here? More absurdly, it is not how he is serenely sprawled in a figure-four posture, savoring his liquor like a king in his palace, but his audaciousness and sickening bravery in showing up here after everything he did. I think this key exchange was a horrible idea.

"Hi!" He hoarses, setting the empty glass on the table, and I can't help but gawk at him as he boosts his accentuates to me again, licking the sweet taste of alcohol from his lips.

Sweet, my cold sh*t!

Like a zombie, I find myself trudging my legs towards him, our eyes confronting each other. "What on fuck are you doing here, Damian? I thought we were done. And I made it clear that you disgust me, so..."

"Are you sure?" His voice is raw and cold, as always. He slowly springs to his feet and starts towards me in slow-tallied strides like a lion taming a deer.

I tense as his complexion swaggers through the air until he towers above me, nourishing me with his hypnotizing sweet pheromones. His eyes are not leaving mine.

He is cognizant of how he makes me weak. He discerns the intensity of his allure on me, and I am afraid I can't mask how he affects me even now that I am on the verge of wringing his neck. He is like a combo of sweet pain and painful pleasure right now.

"I dare you to look me in the eyes, Ellie, and repeat that with all honesty. Come on!" He shoves his hands in his pockets, racking up at me with so much vigor that it leaves me flabbergasted and worried about where the alcohol settled in his system.

I peep him in the eyes, albeit with so much vulnerability. His stare is demeaning, and him being this close isn't doing me any good either.

All the same, come what may, after this, I amass all the remaining pieces of bravery in me and speak, "You do, Damian! You make me sick! You make me want to puke," I shoot, and I would be fibbing if I said he was incensed by my utterances. On the contrary, the jerk seems annoyingly tickled.

It seems like what I just said is the most humorous thing he has heard today, if not ever in his entire life. His irises are twinkling with a dazzling glow that I had not spotted until now, and his luscious lips are scrunched up into a vast, lush sneer that unveils his long, pearly white teeth. Perhaps the firewater is doing its magic. Yeah, that may be the case!

He releases a giggle, and momentarily, his ability to camouflage parades its prowess. I suddenly find myself entrapped between his muscular arms and his rock-like physique as he abruptly falls icy. My bag drops to the ground, and I take a defensive posture by moving my hands to his chest. His move was so swift, more like wolf speed, that it didn't allow me to do a thing or even sense it.

I should be howling at him or battling to break out of his grip, but instead, I am just here, wilting and quivering in his arms. My breathing is labored, and my heart is pounding heavily.

He plucks his right hand away from my back, grabs hold of my chin, and jerks my face up toward his. I let forth a faint groan! I have no idea why I am still melting, even right now.

"That is not what your eyes imply, sweet little Ellie!" My face turns red from the ears to my nose at his last words. I am in heat—deep shit heat. "Deny that even with this fury burning in your beautiful eyes, I am still able to turn you on. You are trembling in my arms, and it's not with anger but lust, baby, am I wrong?"

My heart stops! Everything does, even my breathing. He knows me so well—perhaps much more to my liking. He knows that I fucking want him as much as I scorn him right now. He knows just how much control he has over me. He knows how fragile I am before him. This feeling is sweet in all aspects, stronger than my defenses, and I am afraid this will ruin me completely—this man here, Damian Almeda, will be my ruin.

I close my eyes as I collapse into him. My knees can't support me anymore.

I was anticipating a different reaction from him. He probably howled to get my attention or to summon my response, but he did the opposite. He releases my chin, and he nonchalantly lowers my head to rest on his chest while thrusting his hand into my hair.

I don't break down. Not even a single tear drops. Crying would be too exhausting for me. For several minutes, he strokes my skull in a soothing motion as I snooze comfortably on his broad chest. Suddenly, something caused me to snap out of it.

"I am so sorry!" He speaks, closes his eyes, and tightens his grip on me. 'Sorry, Ellie!"