The Womanizer (EDITING)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

*Just a slight warning this chapter deals with suicide and eating disorders. If you do suffer from an eating disorder or are having suicidal thoughts please contact a helpline or report to someone trustworthy. You are worth living ❤️*

My hands run through his soft hair, his head rested on my lap as his chest rose and fell calmly. His umber eyes laid beneath his closed eyelids, his eyelashes delicately sweeping along his skin. After seeing Damien in such a vulnerable state, I didn't know what to think. All I knew was that I was grateful for him to tell me everything. I felt more emotionally connected to him knowing he was able to break those walls around him with me. He had been hurting this whole time, which made me think if any of those smiles he had to the media were even real. Though the two main questions that pondered in my mind was why wasn't this a big topic in the media and what about Amelia? The thought of them being twins, surpassed my mind until this morning. Obviously, Amelia had been hurting herself and I'm surprised Damien failed to speak about her yesterday night. 

My hand pauses as Damien stirs in his sleep. He lets out a breath before speaking, "Hey."

His rich caramel eyes, a small smile gracing his lips. Although I could still see the sadness and pain from yesterday's events, it was a smile nonetheless and for that, I was happy.

"Hi," I murmur, tracing the contours of his face with my hands. He shivers under my touch as his eyes close momentarily before I continue, "How are you feeling?"

He lets out a puff of air, "Like shit. But I'm glad...I'm glad I talked to you about it," he breathes, his hand lacing with mine. I trace his lips with my thumb before bringing my lips lightly to his forehead.

"Me too."

My hands skim rapidly across the keyboard, flickering upwards as Amelia slides her figure through the ajar door, "You and Damien were gone for a while last night," she says with cockiness, "Anything interesting happened?"

My hands cease typing and hold her gaze, "Actually, quite the opposite. Can I talk to you for a minute?" I ask, my bottom lip rolling into my mouth with anticipation. Amelia raises an eyebrow as she closes the door silently behind her.

She shrugs and sits opposite me with hands clasps on the oak desk, "Shoot,"

"We went to your dad's epitaph."

Amelia's posture stiffens from the sentence, her mouth agape. Her eyes twitch to mine before locating down to the wooden table, "O-Oh..."

I close my laptop slowly and sigh, "Yeah...He told me everything, and he broke down crying. I...I wasn't expecting to be honest. But I think it was good for him. Anyways, that's not why I called you. Well, it's partially why. Damien didn't speak a word about you..." My words trail off, Amelia unfazed about the words spoken.

"I told him not to."

I narrow my eyes at her, "You mean Damien told you we were going to the epitaph yesterday?" Amelia shakes her head before cocking it sideways.

"Not exactly. He told me a week ago he was going to tell you but I didn't know when. I just didn't think it'd be so soon. I told him to leave any parts of me out...For a reason. I thought I'd tell you myself. The weeks after my dad...d-died, were the hardest of my life," Amelia states, her voice faltering. 

I bite my lip anxiously, watching her with attentive eyes. For someone who always seemed to have a smile on her face even through the toughest days, it wrenched my heartstrings to see someone I'd gotten so close with have a solemn expression on their face.