EXHAUSTING SUBJECT

"Hey! I said it was nothing. You are my sweet perfection, Ellie. You haven't done anything wrong," Damian insists, his gaze unwavering as he speaks.


"But there is a reason why you reacted like this, right? You know this night will go to waste if you don't open up because there is no way I'm going to let you touch me like this," I warn, my voice laced with a hint of frustration. Every fiber of my being yearns to understand what's troubling Damian, to share in his burdens just as he's shared in mine countless times before.

Damian's gaze remains steadfast, his eyes filled with a mixture of tenderness and reluctance. "It's just a question I have for you," he finally admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"A question for me?" I repeat, my brow furrowing in confusion. The notion that his solemn demeanor is rooted in a simple question seems almost absurd, given the intensity of his expression. "What is it?" I prompt, my curiosity getting the better of me. Despite my frustration, I can't help but feel a flicker of hope that he can finally come out clean from this inner turmoil and uncertainty altogether.


"It's... It's...about your...betrothed! Your supposed fiancé." Boom! Finally, the cat is out of the box, and his words hang in the air like a heavy cloud of uncertainty.

My betrothed? That ghost?


My heart sinks at his words; disbelief and frustration are bubbling up inside me. What? No! Tell me he is joking right now. I mean, this again? What problem does he have with that cursed ghost from my past, huh? He is bringing up this subject too often for my liking, honestly. The mere thought of that fool alone makes my blood boil. It makes me so sick at times. And wasn't it just yesterday that we had this same discussion about that betrothed? I made it clear where I stand on that subject, right? Why does he have to drag this issue back and forth as if it were a threat to him?

"Come on!" I scoff, my tone laced with thinly veiled frustration. "I told you everything there was to know about that guy, Damian. Why do you have to bring up that absurd subject about that jerk just now?"

He nuzzles my cheeks, a memo to plead with me not to be upset. "Just this one question, and I promise I will not bring his topic up again," he pleads, his voice softening with sincerity.

I let out a resigned sigh, knowing that he wouldn't let this go until he got the answers he was seeking. Well, I hope he means just that, because I hate discussing that jerk with him.

"Okay. What do you want to know?" I respond, steeling myself for whatever probing questions he has in store. It must be so serious and pressing that he seriously needs to let it out of his chest.

His gaze is raw, devoid of any tinge of dropping from Mune until he gets the answers he seeks. I swallow hard as his sugary mouth opens. "How come you never got to know even just his name?" his voice heavy with emotion as he broaches the question that seemingly is a threat to his peace and cool.

How come? Simple! Because I didn't fucking care! So what if I knew his name? Would that have changed a thing? Could a fucking name have made me fall in love with that ghost?

"Because I didn't care, Damian. I still don't. Never will I ever care about that man," I retort, my words dripping with frustration and bitterness.

He gawks at me, his expression a mixture of shock and apprehension, making me feel a surge of defiance rising within me. I refuse to sugarcoat anything about that stupid ghost who brought nothing but misery into my life. And it is exhausting me how I have to repeat this to him over and over again and again.

"You loathed him so much that you didn't care to know even his name?" Damian finally manages to gather his voice, his tone laden with disbelief.

To say he sounds apprehensive is an understatement. I am unable to fathom his fixation on this topic. Honestly, I find this tiring now. I would bury that moment and forget it if I could. But how can I, when he is always here asking about that ghost? "I did. And I still do. I knew his family name, and that was more than enough." I reply firmly, my venomous gaze unwavering as I meet his eyes.

"But..." Damian begins, his voice trailing off as if unsure how to proceed.

"Listen, Damian!" I cut him off, my patience wearing thin. "That is a closed chapter of my life. I don't want to go on talking about that sh*t of a man. Come on! This night is meant for us, right? You and I are supposed to be the topic of this vacation and nothing else. Why bring back that part of the past that doesn't matter? Please forget that subject and just let it rot there in the past where I left it. I want this moment to be for us alone, please." I plead, hoping to redirect our focus to the present moment and the love we share.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Damian takes hold of my hands and presses gentle kisses on my palms, a gesture that never fails to melt my heart. It seems he finds delight in kissing my palms lately, and while I can't quite grasp the allure, I appreciate the sentiment behind it.

"I'm sorry, love. I promise I won't bring that up ever again. I'll try to kick my fears aside. I have you, and you love me. I'll bet everything on our love," Damian says earnestly, his voice filled with sincerity as he seeks reassurance in our bond.

"You have nothing to worry about, love. Like me, nothing is a threat to you," I assure him, squeezing his hands gently in mine.