Chapter 142: Movie Night Gets A Bit...Hot
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Rain tapped softly against the windows, just enough to serve as soothing background noise rather than a distraction, while the apartment glowed warmly under the light of a single lamp in the corner. Dinner had long been cleaned up, the dishes quietly drying in the rack, leaving behind a faint aroma of coffee and the blue flowers sitting proudly in a vase on the dining table.
I glanced at them.
Damien noticed.
"You’ve looked at those flowers at least six times in the last five minutes."
"I have not."
"You literally just did it again."
"I was..." I cleared my throat, scrambling for an excuse. "...checking if they’re still alive."
"They’re flowers, sunshine. They haven’t had enough time to die."
"I was just making sure."
He chuckled softly, the sound warm enough to make my ears burn.
God, it’s like everything he did lately made me blush. It was getting a bit embarrassing, like what the actual fuck was wrong with my face at this point?!
I folded my arms, trying to maintain as much dignity as I could.
"So..."
"So?"
"It’s kind of early."
Damien glanced toward the hallway that led to our bedrooms before returning his gaze to me.
"It is."
"I...um, don’t really feel like sleeping yet."
"Neither do I."
A moment of silence hung between us for just a second before that annoyingly handsome smile of his appeared. "Should we watch a movie?"
My face lit up immediately.
"...Seriously?"
He shrugged, "I figured we could stay up until one of us falls asleep."
"We haven’t had a proper movie night in ages."
"Then tonight sounds perfect for one."
I grinned before I even realized it.
"You’re surprisingly easy to persuade." he said.
"You make a convincing case."
"I only said one sentence."
"It was persuasive."
"You just wanted a reason to steal my blanket."
"I already own the blanket."
"...Right."
"My blanket."
"Our blanket," I corrected him.
Damien laughed.
"Our blanket."
I honestly didn’t expect that a simple suggestion for a movie night could really shift the vibe between us, but here we were, just a few days after me crying and yelling at the party. The apartment now felt more intentional and specific, rather than just cozy.
Damien had turned off the overhead lights and left the corner lamp on, casting a warm amber glow that made the living room seem smaller and cozier than usual.
I grabbed our big, super-soft blanket from the bedroom, the one that was way too big for just one person and draped it over us on the couch. It was the kind of blanket that just enveloped you, making the idea of moving seem ridiculous.
I found myself leaning against his side without even thinking about it. It felt natural now, my head resting on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around me, everything just fitting together seamlessly.
It just... felt right.
Damien didn’t say a word about it.
Instead, he wrapped his arm loosely around me, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my shoulder through my grey hoodie like he’d done it a hundred times before.
I could smell his cologne mixed with the faint remnants of the herbal tea he’d had earlier, and his fingers were tracing slow, absentminded circles on my shoulder, which I was trying not to overthink.
The movie I picked was rolling on the screen. Some romance movie that seemed pretty cool from the title.
The kind that probably pulls at your heartstrings, with characters who seem to understand each other deeply.
I chose it because the reviews were good, and honestly, I was tired and not really considering what it would feel like to be cuddled up next to Damien while watching a romantic film.
Looking back, that was a bit of a fucking dumb way to think.
At first, the story had me hooked, like any good film does, all those tense glances, conversations layered with meaning, and the slow build-up of two people drawn together before finally colliding.
I was genuinely engaged, I was following the plot. I was a decent movie-watcher...I didn’t even reach for my phone once!
But then...I–ahem... I became aware, in that way you do when you notice something that’s been true for a while but only just acknowledged, how warm he felt against my side.
The steady rhythm of his chest against my cheek. The way he absentmindedly traced circles with his thumb on my shoulder. And somehow, my hand had drifted to rest on his chest, and neither of us said anything about it.
I shifted a bit under the blanket.
On the screen, the leads were sharing one of those moments, lingering, charged pauses between two people who had finally dropped the pretense.
I shifted again.
Damien let out a laugh, a quiet one that was contained yet unmistakable, vibrating against my cheek.
"You’re not even watching the movie anymore, are you?" he asked, his voice light, clearly knowing the answer and enjoying it. "Your eyes keep drifting to me instead."
Heat rushed to my cheeks immediately.
"Who’s looking at you?" I insisted, not sounding very convincing. "I’m watching the movie."
"You’re not."
"I’m watching it right now! Things are happening on screen. I’m aware of them."
"Describe what’s happening."
My mind went blank, "...Things. That I’m very aware of."
"Really?"
"Absolutely."
"The couple just confessed their love."
"...Oh shit, they finally did?"
"They’ve been confessing for almost two minutes."
He laughed again, a genuine sound that rolled through him, and I could feel it against my cheek. It was all so ridiculous, and I was aware of that.
As the story unfolded, the tension on the screen began to resonate with something deeper between us on the couch.
The characters shared a charged dinner scene, their eyes locking over the flickering candlelight, and before long, things took a more intimate turn.
A kiss that started off tentative quickly blossomed into something passionate, their hands exploring with a hunger that made the camera linger on their flushed skin and parted lips.
Oh...well, that’s something.
I shifted slightly, attempting to concentrate on the plot, but my mind began to wander.
Usually, these kinds of scenes barely registered with me, they were just part of the story, background noise in the bigger picture.
But tonight, with Damien so close, his body a solid presence against mine, everything felt magnified.
The vivid depictions of desire on screen stirred something restless inside me, a warmth pooling low in my belly that made my pulse quicken in ways I hadn’t expected.
The movie’s characters had moved to a dimly lit bedroom, the camera catching every heated glance and whispered confession as clothes slipped away, revealing the raw vulnerability of their connection.
Wait a damn minute...
Wasn’t this supposed to be a nice, cute romance movie?! Why were the characters having sex now for fucksakes?!