He doesn't know I'm here. It's supposed to be a surprise. I check the boarding then rush to the information desk.
A woman comes to my aid. "Do you require any help sir? You appear troubled."
"I'm looking for someone who just landed—was in this flight... Can you help me find him?"
"I'm going to need his full name and other details..." The women says professionally. "I can page them."
"He's..." Just as I'm about to speak a firm yet gentle touch of a hand on my back makes me halt in mid sentence.
"I have missed you, my angel."
I could recognise that voice among a thousand whispers and pointless squabbles. His touch, inflexible and overweening could turn my rigid spine into powdered gelatin.
Without giving it a fraction of a second musing I shift my body towards him.
"Why your eyes look dewy? I'm here see? Your wicked demon..."
You cocky devil!
I cling to his rugged body tightly smothering myself with his musky enticing woody scent. My arms clinch around his back like I'll lose my footing if I let go.
"You gave me one hell of a surprise, my angel..." He whispers.
"I wanted to rebuke you for not staying in the hospital longer...but," he clasps me to his chest like a pendant hooked in one of his shirt's buttons. " I couldn't keep myself from holding you. Seeing this mysterious quirky little face makes me so happy."
"Saint and Damien!!!" People start to gather. "They look soo cutee!!"
Girls...a bunch...no, more. They rush towards us. Fuck! There can be paparazzi too.
"Damien..."
"Yes my angel?"
"On count of three..." I motion for him to understand my plan.
"That's Mika's car..." He finally notices.
The crowd around us is getting bigger... Their phones catching morsels of us from every weird angles.
"Saint Angel!!!" They scream. "Can I get your autograph please??"
"Can I get a picture with you..?! Saint, let me have a picture with you please!!"
"Oh my... Damien Frost!! HOC's leader! Let me get..."
Their pushing and pulling makes me overwhelmed. I sign Damien to do something to make way.
"Pictures eh? You want one with us?"
"Yes...omg yesssh!!!"
Damien reaches out to take a fan girl's phone. She's yelps, "Take a selfie with me Damien please..!"
"Alright. But atleast give us some air ladies... I'm almost breathless by your heartily affections." Damien flashes one of his signature smiles and they go total berserk.
"Ahhhh hott!!! He's so hot!!"
But they seem to listen to his request. I see a thin opening line going to the Bentley parked over there.
"Ready?" Damien smiles widely and they think of it as if he's addressing them.
But it's our sign.
I grab his hand and... woosh! We bolt out of the circle dashing towards Mika's car.
"Who's gonna drive?" He asks opening the door in electric speed.
"Let me. Now go, go!"
He settles in the side seat as I turn the key in shaking hands. "Let's go!"
"They're running off!!"
"Nooo! They're leaving... I couldn't even take a selfie with him!"
"Saint looked so dashing in that red shirt..."
The speed—boy—I have never driven a car in this speed. Life with him is like an action-thriller movie.
Suddenly Damien bursts out laughing. "Hahahaohhoaaha..."
I stare at the road marvelling at his wild carefree laugh.
"That was fun though," he says intertwining his fingers with my left hand's fingers.
"Damien... I'm driving."
"Then drive..." He smirks. "When did I interrupt you?"
"You're doing more than that," I remark.
"Seriously though, did we have to run away like grade school kids?"
"Do you want to be in the headline tomorrow?" I glance sideways at his now bronze ripe skin, like a tender summer tangerine. His features striking as always causes me to rein myself in, lest I crash Mika's beloved model.
His eyes, a pool of golden glitters tries to suck me in again—like they did back then.
"I have no issue with that. Fame begs attention. Wanted and unwanted."
I clench the steering securely but can't help feeling wretched. "Right."
"But you can't," he utters introspectively. "Saint Angel is in love with a guy. Chances... slim to none."
I feel the lump growing back in my throat again. I want to... I want what he wants too. Am I selfish for only thinking about my side?
"You have lost some pounds," he opines down heartedly.
I have, haven't I? But no one else has said that to me yet... except the doctor.
"You've got some eyes huh..." I say recalling our fight.
It's a busy fifth day of the first week of September.
I started living with Damien six months ago. A week after his birthday, in April. Both of us and his friends were discreet about this because I didn't want to disclose anything—with the premiere of my series still banging at the door. I'd still stay in my apartment four days in a week and spend three at his but I moved almost all of my things to his place. People still considered us as same band members with no clue.
I brewed myself some coffee, then sat on the bay window seat of my room playing Damien's song 'Stardust' in my phone. I got a day off from shooting cause one of my co-star sprained his ankle accidentally with whom I had a scene. Mr. Charles did want to shoot one of my single scenes though, but I just felt out of character in that moment.
"You need to stop listening to that. It's fifth time today." Damien appeared at the doorframe—both his hands covering the door, gripping the outer frame.
"I will eventually, when I'll get bored." I said sipping from the cup.
"Isn't it about time that you help me with my next song?" He crossed the single bed then came to the window. Only his bedroom had the king sized bed where we only had exhausted nights of sleep after day long work.
"Mika's going to come over this evening," I said dodging his question without wanting to answer something he wouldn't like to hear.
"I know," he said brushing of any sign of curiosity which I expected him to show. He didn't know that Mika's gonna come over—he only texted me about this a while ago. Then why?
"Are you giving me your ignorance again Saint Angel?" He asked.
His voice emanated a brisk vexation as I avoided his eyes.
"And why do you think that?" I stared out of the window graping the curtain in my fist closely.
"Aren't you too swamped with your 'fanciful roles'," he air quoted the word fanciful, "that you forgot your own role Saint Angel."
He's been been calling me like that for a week now. And that means he's disgruntled. He'd call me by my full name either when he's displeased or when he's feeling too proud or jealous or something else... I don't know. Damien is an enigma.
"Then how about maintaining your role as a member of our band?"
I tried writing a song. Not gonna lie but... I couldn't even get enough time to give my head some space to come up with some lines. Memorizing those dialogues every ten minutes got my head all blank.
"I tried."
"And?" His strides like a panther watching his prey cowering under his fierce scrutinization made me flinch. "Did trying bring any fruitful result? Your fans demand more activity from you."
How do I explain this to him? Writing a song needs a focused and calm head and neither of these are coming to me. Maybe I should take a break from acting but if I tell this to Mr. Charles he'll break me. The premiere is next month.
I brushed past him to go to the small study.
"Avoiding again?"
I watched him following me to that room.
I unlocked the drawer to pull out the recent draft diary I brought. I wrote four lines and he wouldn't believe me unless...
"What are you doing?" He perched on the couch with a doubtful expression.
I pulled at the red ribbon mark to get to the page where I wrote the draft.
"Here." I put it in his lap.
"Skies of us." He read out the title.
~The lights are fading in the dark
My mind's tricking me of your touch
And I can't see my face in the glass
Your scent's too frail to...~
Why did I even scrawled these lines? He tried singing the lines in his virile baritone voice. "When are you gonna finish this?"
"I don't know," I said walking away from him.
But he caught my hand yanking roughly as I landed on his body—my mouth now near his Adam's apple that bobbed ever so slightly as his other hand snaked around my waist pressing my lower body into him impulsively.
His hoarse voice vibrated against my forehead. "I can't wait anymore..."
"Damien..."
"Shhh..." He puts his middle finger in my mouth guiding it deeper in the back of my throat.
Ahh! The things he does to my body!
Then another finger joined in the previous one's cruel play. He slowly withdrew his fingers then put them into his mouth licking off my taste that saturated his fingers.
"Sein..." He inhaled my name sharply then without waiting for any unnecessary comments he straddled my lips pushing his tongue deeper, seeking the warmth of desire and passion fighting, to each claim their own place.
I gasped when his hand searched for something between my legs.
"The angel is being taken advantage of..." He let out a throaty chuckle.
"By the demon," I whispered tracing his collarbone.
His avid fingers antsy and impatient flew to the silver buttons of my green summer edition shirt of Regal Satyr's, longing to shred it off in one swift gesture. They made me do an Ad for their collection two months back. Mom looked very pleased seeing me in that photoshoot.
Suddenly my phone rang loudly in my pocket.
"Ugh!" He groaned frustratingly.
I let it stop but then it rang again. I have to take it.
I swiped up after taking it out.
Damien raked his hand through his hair, infuriated. "Who is Alan?" His hawk like gaze got stuck on the name despite however quickly I put it against my ear.
"My co-star."
"Hello Alan," I greeted keeping a finger against his lips.
"Saint—I've something to ask you."
Alan is the new guy in the set, chosen for the role of my private assistant. He's a sweet talker, calm but also a very upbeat person. Yet he acts very coy around me—I don't know why.
"We don't have shooting today so what do you need to ask me about?"
"Hehe—" he chuckled in a soft amusing way as if he expected a different reaction from me.
"Actually I had an interview today—you know, a while ago. And they were asking about you. I'm normally worn out after interviews specially when you're not there." He laughed awkwardly as if he was feeling shy.
"I'm still new and have a lot of things to learn from you Mr. Saint. So I was wondering if we could hang out later today..? Time you can choose and place—I've already chosen. And I'm certain you'll love it."
Alan and I have been getting along quicker than others. He and I are the closest duo now. He's quite endearing. I wonder why he's always crawling behind me.
Damien's eyes turned stormy—not in any amorous way. He removed my finger from his mouth clamping his vicious grip around my neck throttling me.
"Saint—" Alan called my name but I couldn't utter a word.
"Mmph..."
"Saint, are you there?"
"He has plans." Damien's voice growled like a wild beast.
"W-who are you? What are you doing in his house?!" Alan asked tentatively.
Damien sneered loudly slowly turning it into a villainous laugh.