Chapter 114 Damian, Cut This for Me
Damian's hand was still wrapped in a bandage, neatly done and not detracting from his presence, but it made certain actions inconvenient, like when he struggled using just one hand to unbutton his suit before tossing it onto the sofa.
Eating soup proved to be a challenge for him. He lifted his eyes, and through the rising steam, his gaze was as cold as ice. "You're not the least bit observant, are you? Hand me a bowl," he said sarcastically.
Ashley bit down on her fork, "You're here as a guest, right? Or are you acting as if you own the place?"
Damian looked across at Ashley. She had her long hair up in a bun, exposing her pristine forehead, her voluminous hair atop, the face-framing bun, with big eyes, high cheekbones, and small lips, all contributing to a youthful, homey look. She wasn't much older than twenty, and the heat from the hot pot flushed her skin pink, resembling a typical college student.
Damian cleared his throat, "What are you trying to say?"
"As a guest, do you always come empty-handed? Shouldn't you at least bring some fruit? And if you consider yourself the host, isn't it inappropriate to have someone else wait on you at their home?" she retorted.
Still upset from the incident at the Jade Garden Restaurant and now provoked by her quick wit, Damian's temper flared. "Ashley, can't you stand being alone? Huh? Collecting any man who comes by?"
‘Entertaining a man who'd lost his wife? Was she that insensitive?’
Ashley knew he had seen, but she couldn't let him speak to her in such a derogatory tone. She retorted with her neck stiff, "What exactly am I collecting in my house? This house has only ever been entered by one male, and that's you."
‘What kind of man are you?’
Damian massaged his forehead, chuckling dryly, "Publicly flirting with men, you have no shame!"
The anger made Ashley clench her fork so tightly she wished she could sever his tongue and throw it into the pot!
"Damian, you've studied abroad, aren't your thoughts a bit closed-minded? If you really can't grasp the concept of social etiquette in public places, then I might say you've attended a fake Ivy League school. After all, couples showing affection in public is commonplace. They're not breaking the law or any moral codes, and from any perspective, their actions are justified."
‘Flaunting their affection, was she planning to get serious with Sean?’
Damian's breath deepened with a hint of skepticism, "All this haste to explain, feeling guilty?"
Ashley's stomach churned, her appetite ruined by his brewing storm, "Damian if you're so full of delicacies that you can't appreciate my simple cooking, feel free to make a right turn out the door."
‘Can't you just let me eat in peace? Act like a decent human being,’ she thought.
"I can't let you off that easy." Damian rose and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a plate, spoon, and fork.
Ashley served whatever he'd take, always beating her to the draw.
After this dance repeated several times, Ashley set her fork down and said, "Isn't it a bit obvious the way you're snatching the food? Aren't you afraid of looking bad while eating?"
Damian continued eating with his fork, the taste was just mediocre, but he didn't stop. "My table manners could easily be the gold standard for dining etiquette."
Ashley gritted her teeth.
Damian twirled his fork through a piece of tripe, "Confident in your looks, aren't you? Not scared these messy foods will make you uglier?"
Ashley took exaggerated, large bites, "My looks could easily be the mold for plastic surgery!"
The two competed for over half an hour.
Ashley rubbed her stomach, full, and Damian didn't fare much better. She regretted turning it into a contest, fighting hard but hurting herself more.
Damian leaned on the sofa, nodding toward some boxes, "Do some physical labor, it'll help you digest faster. Finish unpacking these boxes, or you won't sleep well tonight."
Ashley massaged her stomach, pained, "You ate just as much, stop pretending. I remember how much you could eat at night."
Damian replied, "Ask nicely, and I might help you."
"Yeah, thanks a bunch," she said sarcastically.
"How long are you planning on keeping these boxes? Are you saving them for your descendants to dredge up?" he sneered.
Geez, was his tongue made by bees? Always stinging?
Though stubborn in voice, she recognized procrastination wasn't the solution. Maybe it's time to unpack.
After managing a few, Ashley lost steam. Rather than exhaust herself, she caved, "I can't finish it all in one night. How about you take care of the bigger ones?"
Damian watched her huff and puff with the work, his head throbbing at her lack of skill, "Such a klutz!"
Taking a utility knife, his movements were sharp and shockingly efficient, opening all the boxes in twenty minutes.
The Living Room was now more cluttered with furniture parts than it had been an hour before. They stood in the post-quake mess that was their Living Room, at a loss for words.
Ashley brushed the dust off her hands, "Damian, your decisiveness is awe-inspiring, truly impressive. I must redefine the word 'genius.'"
Natural-born simpleton.
Damian threw down his tools and glanced at the shelf components laid out before him—several planks of wood, nails, glass, and the sad assembly instructions at the bottom of the box. "Ikea? Ha, what a choice. Why didn't you just buy from eBay? It's cheaper!"
"If you'd told me sooner, I could have used my phone—I've got Poshmark too! I’ll ask for your help to get discounts next time, and I bet you wouldn't say no."
Damian felt a headache coming on.
This little episode allowed Ashley a glimpse of Damian's impressive carpentry skills. Despite working single-handedly, he managed to efficiently assemble a six-tier shelf.
All she did was awkwardly hold some planks in place, which made her feel somewhat inadequate.
Positioning the shelf in its intended spot, Damian complimented, "Ashley, you've got taste."
The Ikea piece—simple, generous, and stylish in the store—seemed a bit out of place next to the luxurious Scandinavian decor in her home, appearing to lower the room's appeal. Ashley, stubborn and feigning confidence, insisted, "One cabinet alone doesn't make much of an impact. You should assemble the rest to complete the look."
Damian, screwdriver in left hand, rolled up his shirt cuffs, his slender fingers getting dirty. The sparkling crystal chandelier highlighted the slight sweat on his face. "Ashley, are you getting addicted to bossing me around?"
Ashley touched her nose, unaware that her finger left a smudge on the bridge. "I can’t do it right. If it falls apart, it could cause an accident..."
An idea occurred to Damian as his gaze followed the black dot on her nose. He lifted the screwdriver, "Come here."
Ashley ruffled her hair. "I can't put together a shelf, but that's no reason for punishment, is it?"
The logic of Damian who had never failed geometry at school made her think twice. "Come here!"
Ashley moved slowly towards him, about to ask...
Before she could speak, a warmth brushed her nose as he gently scraped away the smudge, sending a warm sensation cascading through her.
She stood still.
So did he.
Looking up, her eyes, wet and wide, were filled with his presence, and her mouth went dry, "You…"
