Insider || hs

Hit Me, Baby, One More Time

TW: sexual assault // This scene is a bit rough, so be prepared... if you want to skip the scene itself, skip to about halfway through to not read that part; however, sexual assault is a theme mentioned throughout the chapter, so just use your own discretion. Also, I want to say that I in no way intend to romanticize this kind of stuff by writing about it, nor do I take it lightly. I want to be respectful of those who have experienced sexual assault, and if you feel that I have failed in that, please let me know so I can do better. Thanks and enjoy.

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"Fancy seeing you here, huh?" Damien stood nonchalantly leaning up against the wall across from the bathroom door. A black and red silk robe hung loosely about him, wide open and bearing his whole chest like some trashy frat boy dressed as Hugh Hefner. There was a time Freddie would have loved to see him like this, but now, looking at him made her want to gag. There was no way he came here with his wife, and there was no way he had anything decent to say now that they were alone.

"Damien," she said with a fake smile, careful not to seem too chipper. If she was too friendly, she knew he'd catch on to her intention of escaping him and keep her there for longer than she would like. There was a balance to keep, and she'd have to be vigilant in observing it. "I didn't know you were here."

"Is it so hard to believe?" Damien scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes. "You know I live next door... or did you forget already?"

"No... I just... you never said anything about being friends with your neighbor, so..." Freddie trailed off, unsure of what to say. In truth, she didn't want to say anything. If she could, she would just walk away without speaking to him any more than she already had, but that wasn't exactly possible; she needed an excuse.

"Look," Freddie said before Damien could get another word in. "I was just about to leave, so we don't have to do this."

Damien, however, didn't go along with it. He just had to push her. "Do what?" he smirked. "We're just talking."

"Yeah... we don't have to do that," Freddie heard herself say, and she silently cursed herself for having that last drink. While she was a great deal better off than Harry, she was a little more short-tempered and blunt than usual. Had she been completely sober, she knew she'd be able to get out of this a whole lot more peacefully. "It's good seeing you, but I have to go."

"Why? I'm sure Harry can handle himself without you for a little bit."

Freddie's eyes widened slightly before she could check herself. Had Damien seen them go into the bathroom together? Had he heard them? If he had, Freddie was sure he'd be jealous, and lord knows she didn't need to see how that influenced his actions. Apparently though, it was too late to avoid that.

Laughing cynically, Damien shook his head, "Oh yes, I know all about him. You two were in there for quite a long time."

"He's really drunk," Freddie answered lamely, not knowing what else she could say to avoid having a conversation about Harry. When it came to Harry, Damien was irrational, and Freddie really didn't want to deal with his unwarranted reaction. "I was making sure he didn't pass out or something."

Damien, however, was quick to ensure that her plan didn't work.

"Oh, sure," he taunted. "Is that why he had your lipstick on his neck?"

Freddie's face flooded with heat, and she cursed herself for missing that little bit of evidence. She thought she had gotten it all, but given Damien's assessment, it appeared that she hadn't after all. Freddie didn't care if their friends saw it—she could admit to them easily enough what was going on between her and Harry without too much fear of how it would change things—but she did care that Damien had seen it. He was a jealous person, whether he had a right to be or not, and at the moment, she would rather get back to Harry than have to deal with the irrational jealousy of her ex who she shouldn't even be talking to anyway.