At last [Damon Albarn x Reader]

Down in the Tube Station at Midnight

hi! just to say this is my first ever wattpad story lol so if it's a bit rough that's why-
i wrote this on and for mobile so if it's a bit awkwardly timed on PC im sorry :(
the timeline is definitely not accurate either but it's fantasy don't read too much into that hakbwkxjfiw
i did make a bit of a character for who you (reader) are meant to be to help the story along slightly - small backstory, personal style etc - and that will most likely develop as the story goes on but for now she's pretty plain lol
i really just wrote this without a plan and as it came to my head but if you have any critiques please tell me :)
so yeah hope you enjoy it!

TW: MENTION OF DEATH

[SONG IN TITLE BY THE JAM]

16th December 1990
02:04

There's a distant, but irritatingly present, ringing in your ears. Your feet are heavy against the concrete floor as you sit slumped on the cold wooden bench. The sounds of rattling metal and scuffling shoes are almost entrancing and you can feel your eyelids falling. The shoulder your head is resting on then suddenly shrugs you awake again and you're greeted with Damon's face, smiling at you.

"Y/N, that's the train, love", he slurs, equally as intoxicated as you are.
You grunt in disapproval and the two of you hoist each other upright, before the train speeds off, leaving you both behind.

You, Damon and some other friends from college had been drinking since 14:00 in the afternoon. It was Jamie's birthday today and, in his words, he wanted to "start the party while he's still young." (wanker)
But being young, and irrational, after sufficient partying and clubbing you and Damon decided to go on a pub crawl and challenged each other to make it through the whole town. The results were not as either of you expected.

Despite the sudden surge of responsibility, you stay in this drunkenly, blurry state and can do but a slow creep to the train doors - which seem to be slowly growing out of reach. As the incessant beeping of the door's alarm goes off, Damon peels himself from your side, grabs you by the hand and starts running; dragging you behind him. He leaps up onto the train and you sneak in quickly before your jacket is caught between the "Impenetrable Doors of Doom" as Jamie might call them.

For a moment you and Damon are mere inches away from each other. He had slipped his hand into your coat to pull you in by the waist as you jumped onto the train. It's funny how alcohol throws all your inhibitions out the window; for you, it's also an aphrodisiac. You thought, in that moment, with Damon's fingers interlocked with your's, his other hand resting on you - supporting you, protecting you - that you could just kiss him right here and he would take you. You thought the pair of you could have the world in your hands. And these thoughts only deepened the longer this embrace lasted; both of you panting with adrenaline, flushed, his hand still on your waist, your body pressed against his, his hair tussled and noticeably sultry eyes looking down at you.
You never wanted to break away. Neither did he.

Still he pressed his lips together tightly and sighed, dropping your hand and leading you ahead to a pair of seats.
You frowned - hopefully just internally.

You had planned on sleeping the train ride home but now your brain was awash with thoughts; How have I not seen this in Damon before? Did he feel something there too? I should just forget about it. Shouldn't I?

Damon plonks himself down in the seat nearest the window and ushers you to sit beside him. You sit down with a sigh and remove your black baker boy cap, leaving your previously perfectly curled hair, messy with static. He can't help but to laugh at you.
"You alright Worzel?" He sniggers.
"Oh, piss off!" You reply, and lean your head back against the headrest, closing your eyes.
"Jesus...here let me see you." And you sit up, turning to face him as much as possible, bearing a slightly irritated smirk.
He smoothes your hair over with his hands, running his fingers through it and delicately placing strands behind your ears. Your head and back tingle with the feeling, making you instantly relax. Your eyes fall closed and the smirk fades into a peaceful smile.
He stops, his hand now placed carefully on your cheek. It was warm and your face had turned rosy with the December cold. You open your eyes to his face smiling back at you, tender with care.
You whisper "Thanks." to which he grabs either side of your face and replies with a mocking, counterproductively loud whisper saying "You're welcome!" and turns to look out the window.