26: Secrets

**Damon**

The couch I was subjected to lying on was hard and uncomfortable in comparison to my soft, very expensive bed. My couch had to be the cheapest thing in here and was graciously purchased by Landon−Mr Thrifty. It was, therefore, not surprising when I awoke in the morning, sore and uncomfortable. I rolled off of it and plummeted to the ground with a loud *thud*. The things I did for Jasmine.
When I entered my room, I saw her all sprawled out in my sheets. The hoodie I had given her had ridden up and exposed most of her smooth legs, and for a moment I just stood there, admiring her. She was beautiful and had grown more so over the years. It always boggled me when others described her as 'too plain'. To me she was absolutely stunning, but of course, I would never admit such a thing. In fact, I would never admit anything to her. Not what I thought of her, not why I constantly felt the need to hurt her emotionally, not the kind of effect she had on me and especially not the *real* reason I had come here. These things I needed to keep well hidden, not just for my sake, but for hers as well.
Once I’d had my steaming shower, I proceeded to change in my room, half hoping that she would wake up and lose control like she always did, and half hoping that she'd stay asleep and avoid any further complications in this strange relationship we seemed to share. It was becoming more and more difficult for me to pick out who, between the two of us was the torturer and who was the victim. Admittedly, I loved the way she hurt me. It made me feel alive and vulnerable. Yet, at the same time I felt safe. I trusted her with my body, perhaps too much sometimes. Even last night was all about her and her wants and desires. There was no doubt that Jasmine Spectra could have me begging on my knees for her if only I gave her enough leeway.
As I grabbed the belt to my trousers, I couldn't help but think about the last time I wore it−in the office with Jasmine. In the beginning I'd only fantasise about having her, but now, the more I experienced of her, the clearer and more detailed my imagination became. In my dreams, I'd made love to Jasmine countless of times. Each time becoming more and more intricately detailed, and by now, I could practically hear her voice moan my name out as if she were moaning in my ear. I could feel the heat on her skin as I imagined running my fingers against the surface. I could taste her on my lips−sweet and pure and yet it had an aftertaste of decadent, dangerous desire. In my dreams she had made me beg, and beg, and beg, and I obliged. And in my dreams, she owned my body. Every single inch of it was totally and irrevocably hers to do whatever she pleased. But that, however, was a figment of my imagination, and in reality, I'd probably never let her gain such control of me.
After I had finished getting dressed, I wrote a note to her. She probably deserved a day off after what happened to Timmy, and so, I'd give her some freedom from my constant obsessive tendencies. Perhaps it would do her some good, although I knew the feeling of guilt and having blood on your hands was never something you could get over fast enough. Before I left, I made one last visit to the sleeping Jasmine and ran a gentle finger across her face. If things were different− no, if I were different, then maybe I wouldn't need to hide the softer side of me. But things weren't, and I was still my father's son, and heaven knew how long it would take for that fact to sink into my life and corrupt everything I held dear to me. Sometimes I wished someone could save me from the scars he left on me. But no one besides Landon and London had gotten close enough to me to even attempt to heal them, and even their efforts were in vain. I wanted, more than anything in this life to be loved the way my mother loved him, yet my greatest fear was becoming him before I could even feel that type of love. That was why she couldn't love me. The fear of breaking her overtook anything I felt. Yet, my every reason of denying her was becoming more and more ironic. I wanted her but couldn't have her. I needed her to stay away from me, but I couldn't stay away from her. I didn't want to break her, but I wanted her to break me, to completely destroy this hard, cold and lonely version of me, because beneath it, I was someone different.

***

"Hey Damon!" Macy greeted from the kitchen with a smile and wave.
"Good morning, Macy," I gave her a nod of acknowledgement, before saying, "Quinn is not feeling well today as well, but she will be back tomorrow... hopefully." I whispered that last part under my breath as a small joke.
Macy's face contorted into a look of concern, and she was about to ask something when Hannah burst through the door with a smile and wink towards me. I scowled at her. I had no clue how many times I needed to tell her that that was no way to behave towards her employer. I truly did want to fire her, not out of malice but because she was terrible at her job, even when I made Jasmine do most of it. Then again, this place was understaffed, and I doubted I'd be remaining here long enough to actually start the recruitment process. I'd need to make a note to tell Mr Nathaniel once he came back.
"She isn't severely ill, or something, right?" Macy finally had a chance to get back on track to her question. I shook my head and said, "Must just be a bad stomach bug."
Macy nodded, but she didn't seem convinced, and so I left to my office to avoid further scrutiny. I was restless for most of the day. Not knowing where Jasmine was or what she was doing had me on edge. I didn’t want to forcefully insert myself into her business, but I worried all the time. All I wanted was for her to be safe.
The only time my mind drifted away from her, was in the afternoon, when I received a call from a rather reclusive ally. I’d hoped he had phoned bringing good news, but instead, all he said was, "I’ll be in town soon. Bye."
I tried to call out after him, but he ended the call abruptly. I growled in frustration and ran my fingers through my hair. He was more annoying than Jasmine. But I could never be too angry with him. After all, he was the only person who kept calling to check up on her and to make sure she was safe, despite us both knowing that there was someone else he needed to be more concerned about.
The call had me on edge the entire day and had my mind swirling with questions. Why was he coming here? Andrew was probably long gone by now. Timmy was more than safe with me having Landon on guard all day and all night. There was therefore absolutely no good reason for him to come here and I feared what consequences we’d both face with his arrival.

***

By the time work was done, I'd slightly gotten detached from the clutches of the mysterious phone call, and instead focused on Timmy. He was a good child and deserved none of what he had gotten. It was my fault too. Although I knew about the Andrew problem, I couldn’t have revealed how much I actually knew about him or my mysterious Vixen. There were more secrets I needed to keep hidden from her, still more things that served as bricks within the walls we placed around our hearts.
I decided, after giving Macy a ride home, that I'd go and see him again. Timmy had regained consciousness just a few days ago. I had spent every single day visiting him. I enjoyed the way his face brightened up every time he received a visitor. To me, Timmy was a reminder of what I used to be− good, kind, gentle. That was why I had taken such a liking to him. He smothered and cloaked my darkness with his light, and, whereas Jasmine brought out both the best and worst in me, he seemed to only be able to bring out the best.

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I feel like a chapter in Damon's perspective was long overdue! So, I present to you the mind of everyone's love to hate and hate to love CEO/Alpha- Damon Caesar Michaels.
Also, I have a question, purely out of curiosity. Who is your favourite character so far and why? Mine is a character who hasn't even really been involved yet!