The Opposite Of Attraction ✔️

Chapter Eight

I shook my head no and started crying.

Damon wrapped his arms around me, drawing me into a comforting hug.

Why was he doing this? We're supposed to hate each other. He shouldn't be helping me.

But right now I didn't care. With the memories of him flooding my mind, and Dylan forcing himself on me, I needed someone right now. And if that person happened to be Damon, then so be it.

When I had no more tears left I dried my cheeks and looked up at him.

"Sorry." I croaked, my voice hoarse from crying.

"It's fine, let's go have fun." He replied.

I looked at him like he grew an extra head, wasn't this the part where he made fun of me for being such a baby?

He took my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor so he could dance like a fool to cheer me up, I think. Or maybe he was just a terrible dancer. He was doing the running man, robot, and even the chicken dance. Maybe he was drunk, that would explain why he was being so nice.

Eventually a slow song came on, I was about to walk away when Damon pulled me into his arms and started swaying to the music.

I went along with it and wrapped my arms around his neck. Surprisingly I didn't feel repulsed and awkward in his arms. Instead I felt safe and comfortable.

"Why were you crying?" He asked softly, looking down at me with his clear blue eyes. He wasn't drunk, his eyes told me that much, so why is he doing this?

"Dylan was really drunk and decided he wanted to go somewhere quiet." I paused to gather up the courage to tell Damon the rest.

I felt him stiffen as soon as the words registered with him. It was like he knew what I was going to say next.

"So we went upstairs to a bedroom. We were just sitting there and next thing I knew we were making out. I told him to stop but he wouldn't, he was forcing himself on me." I whispered, ashamed of getting myself into that situation in the first place. It was my fault, I shouldn't have gone with him when I knew he was so drunk.

"Where the hell is he?" Damon growled.

I grabbed his arm before he could go looking for Dylan and do something he'd regret tomorrow.

"Let go!" He yelled, pulling out of my grasp, but I caught his arm again before he could leave.

"It's not his fault, he's drunk! Don't ruin your friendship over this." I yelled back.

"Sophia, I'm warning you. Let. Go. Now." He fumed, his voice low and threatening.

I let go in fear and he stomped upstairs, but as soon as he was out of eyesight the fear for myself transferred to Dylan. I couldn't let Damon hurt him, it wasn't his fault.

I ran for the stairs and took them two at a time, reaching the room I left Dylan in just in time to see Damon's fist connect with Dylan's nose.

Dylan fell to the ground and Damon was instantly on top of him, yelling threats in between punches.

"Stay away from her!"

Punch.

"Don't even look in her direction!"

Punch.

"Don't ever touch her again."

Dylan, being the drunken mess he was, didn't stand a chance agains a completely sober Damon. He tried to fight back but it was no use. Damon blocked every sloppy attempt Dylan made.

It was terrifying to see Damon like that. His eyes were wild with violent fury. I'd never seen him so mad.

Dylan and Damon were screaming at each other and throwing punches, and everything was just pure chaos. I needed this to end.

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" I screamed.

Surprisingly the two boys actually listened and stopped everything they were doing to stare at me.

"Damon, you don't need to do this." I said as calmly as possible, pleading with my eyes for him to stop.

He looked like he wanted to argue but for once he kept his mouth shut and listened. He got off of Dylan and walked over to me to stand by my side.

Next I turned to Dylan "Tomorrow we need to talk because right now you're drunk off your ass and I don't even want to see your face."

I needed to leave. I didn't want to deal with this anymore, so I took Damon's hand and rushed downstairs and out of the house.

Once we were outside I turned to Damon. He was looking down at our intertwined hands intently, with a confused expression on his face.

I pulled my hand out of his, embarrassed that we were holding hands in the first place. Why did I even take his hand? I hated the guy. I found him repulsing and disgusting, his touch alone should make me gag.

After a few minuets of awkward silence Damon finally broke it.

"How are you getting home?" He asked, running a hand through his onyx hair.

"Garrett drove me here, but I don't know where he is." I replied.

It was the truth, but even if I could find Garrett he was drinking tonight and planned on staying until morning. I was supposed to cab home, but for some strange, unknown, once in a lifetime reason, I didn't want to leave Damon yet. Maybe it was because he was being nice and comforted me when I cried. Maybe it was because I felt safe with him in this moment, even though I saw how violent he could get.

"I guess I can drive you home, we live beside each other anyway." He offered, shrugging like it was nothing.

"Are you sure? You really don't have to do that. You've helped me out so much tonight already." I did want him to drive me home but I couldn't let him know that.

He rolled his eyes, "Just get in the car Soph."

I have him a confused look, what car? But then I realized that we had made our way over to his car while we were talking.

Without a word I slid into the passenger's seat and closed the door behind me as Damon made his way to the drivers side. This was the third time this week we'd been in his car together. Before that I had never been in it.

"Since I'm dropping you off I should probably know where you live." Damon teased as he pulled out of the driveway.

I rolled my eyes and took a moment to study him.

Instead of the scowl that was usually on his face, there was a genuine smile in it's place. He actually had a really nice smile, one that lit up his entire face and made his eyes brighter than they already were. If I was being honest with myself, he was kind of cute when he smiled.

My stomach twisted when I realized what I was thinking. Something was seriously wrong with me. Damon Blake was not cute. Not even slightly cute. He was gross and repulsing.

For the rest of the ride I refused to look at him, and when we finally arrived at our houses I practically flew out of his car and into my house without so much as a thank you or goodbye.