Chapter One: Denial.


“Good!” I exclaimed, taking my anger out on a nearby lamp, hurling it at the closed door. I knew he was gone, but I was still incredibly angry. “Go! See if I care!”

Secretly, deep down inside my undead heart, I did care. I loved him to no avail, and told him that an abundance of times. Had he ever returned those words? No. Did I ever give him havoc about it? Yes. But still, he really annoyed me.

“Stupid Darien,” I muttered, as I threw on the first dress I could find, slinging my backpack over my shoulder before I headed out.

It wasn’t until I opened the door that I saw him standing there, expression blank, as though he didn’t quite know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak several times before he grabbed the bag from me, throwing it back into his room, and then he pushed me back with it. “You’re not going anywhere,” he kicked the door shut, locking us both in. Not that I was complaining, really.

His lips crashed into mine almost as fast. “I don’t want to fight,” I muttered, kissing him back, and wrapping my arms firmly around his stone-cold body.

“Neither do I,” he agreed, picking me up with one hand, only so I could wrap my legs around him as he placed me on his desk. Honestly, I think it was mainly there for display, because I never saw him work at it. Well, not in the ethical sense anyway. “You just make me so angry,” he whispered, kissing down my neck as he continued. “Is it so bad that I want you all for myself?”

“Tell people we’re together,” I moaned. “Then I’ll quit.”

He stopped kissing me. “Why can’t you just leave your job as an entertainer because you genuinely give a damn about my feelings and respect yourself?” he wondered. “Isn’t that enough reason?”

I threw his question right back at him. “Why can’t you just tell people we’re together because you give a damn about my feelings and want to be with me regardless?” I crossed my arms over my chest. He was wrong, I did respect myself, and to prove it – he wasn’t getting anywhere near my goods until he apologised and told people about us.

“Why do we do this to each other?” he sighed.

“No idea,” I shrugged. “We’re pretty stupid, really.”

That comment made him smirk, and—thankfully—return to my neck. “Completely stupid,” he nuzzled, and then licked his way down to my collar bone.

“Idiotic,” I tilted my head back, letting him in.

“You drive me crazy,” Darien whispered; now getting started on my earlobe.

Okay, so I know I had promised myself to not give him my body until he apologised, but I melted after those words. Somehow, that temporarily made up for an apology and even helped me forget about the constant lack of: I love you too.

My will to resist him was growing thin, mainly because he knew exactly how to get me going, and all the right places to touch. Then again, I suppose that’s a given when you’ve been together for six months. Well, I suppose we weren’t ‘together’ exactly, but we weren’t ever really apart either. We lived together, ate together, and slept together—just not in the usual ‘sleeping’ sense. Not to mention the jealousy. We might as well be in a relationship. Hell, we even claimed each other, numerous times. It was obvious that we both wanted it, but it was hard to make that final jump.

It was up to him to make things official; not me.

We ended up naked again, and illegal, pre-marital sex followed. Who cares, really? I mean, I’ve more than likely already earned my golden ticket into hell. And, well, if Darien was going to be there too, then I seriously wasn’t complaining.

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