Chapter 170: The Boy Who Waited
•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•✾•⋅⊰∙∘☾✶☽∘∙⊱⋅•
I turned to him, eyes wide and panicked, as if he’d just thrown me under the bus. "Would you stop encouraging—"
"She’s already gone," he said, shrugging it off.
I leaned my forehead against the table for a moment, quickly regretting it given the number of stories absorbed by that surface over the years. I sat back up and focused on my coffee instead.
"I need to move to another country," I said.
"I’ll come with you."
I looked at him, surprised.
"...You would?"
"Of course." He delivered it like a simple truth, without needing to elaborate.
Something about the word of course lingered with me as we settled into the booth, the coffee transitioning from hot to warm and the fries disappearing between us in an almost fair, though sometimes disputed, fashion.
Outside, the sky deepened, colors shifting from amber and pink to a richer blue as the street transformed from afternoon bustle to evening calm, shop windows lighting up one by one.
We weren’t in any hurry.
There was no reason to be.
When we finally stepped onto the sidewalk again, the sunset had fully embraced us. The buildings shimmered golden under the western light, shadows stretching out to their evening lengths, and the air felt pleasantly cool after a warm day, the shift barely noticeable until you paused to feel it.
I noticed I was walking a bit closer to Damien than I had on the way in. I recognized it but didn’t pull away.
Just a couple of months ago, before the pool party, the cuddling under shared blankets, the flowers, and everything that had built up between us, I would have made sure to keep my distance on a public street, aware of every inch and managing it with utmost caution, trying not to be seen.
Now, our shoulders brushed lightly with each step, and I was okay with it.
"I’ve been thinking," Damien started.
"That’s either good or a big inconvenience."
"You took me to meet your father today."
"I did."
"That’s significant."
"Don’t make it weird."
"I’m not making it anything. I’m just pointing it out." He gave me that look that said he was enjoying this. He leaned back, mischief sparkling in his eyes. "You just couldn’t resist taking me to meet the family. Own up to it."
"It wasn’t like that—" I scoffed instinctively, denying it before I could stop myself. "You’re not that irresistible."
"Oh really?"
Before I found my words, Damien’s arm wrapped around my waist—casual and confident, pulling me in close so that any distance vanished. The street had a few people walking by, but they seemed oblivious to us. The unexpected closeness took me completely by surprise, my hands pressing against his chest as heat rushed to my face.
"What are you doing—?!"
"This," he said simply.
"There are people—"
His laugh was warm, and I could feel it because he was so close. He was right, of course, he always was during moments like this and he leaned down slightly. "So? I don’t care."
The height difference was always evident, and in the fading golden light,
Damien leaned down until our eyes almost met, the world narrowing down to the icy blue of his, his broader frame curling protectively around me, a quiet strength in the hands that held me steady.
What the hell was this guy up to now?!
My knees turned traitorous and soft under his gaze. He whispered the words against the space between us, voice low and slightly rough.
"Am I not irresistible to you, sunshine?" he asked.
The smile on his face was gentle, unapologetic. I tried to glare at him, but I probably looked more nervous than anything. "...Move."
"No."
"Damien—"
"No."
I tried to pull away on principle, but he held me tight, chuckling softly as I glared up at him, trying to gather what little dignity I had left. The fight drained from me in a mumbled surrender. "Fine, Damn...you’re... irresistible."
"Hm? Didn’t catch that."
"You’re irresistible!" I finally said, louder, prompting a passing elderly man to glace at us in confusion. "Are you happy now?"
Damien’s satisfaction was clear in that annoying way he had when he’d gotten what he wanted. He relaxed his grip just enough for me to breathe again, but his hand stayed on my waist, warm and reassuring.
"Now say something else," he urged. "Say you like me."
I sighed, the heat still blazing on my cheeks. "I thought I already told you that."
"You did, I want to hear it again."
"You are a fucking—"
"Oliver."
I looked at him, and he was gazing back with that warm expression that felt just right. Not smug, not teasing...just quietly warm. The evening light transformed his face, casting a glow around us as I stood there, realizing I had completely lost control of the situation.
"...I like you," I whispered, almost shyly. It felt ridiculous after announcing his irresistibility just moments before, but here we were.
His smile spread slowly, genuine and settling in completely. "I like you too."
Simple, true. Spoken as if he’d known that for a long time, way longer than I’d realized to be honest.
He lifted his hand to my face, his thumb brushing my cheek gently, as if he understood I needed time for things. Then he leaned in and kissed me.
The kind of kiss that felt right, warm and confident against the cool evening air. His hand remained steady on my waist while the other caressed my face, and the street around us was still.
The sunset bathed everything in gold, and I kissed him back, feeling the clarity that came with no longer being surprised by my own feelings...just embracing them.
I thought about who I had been when I first moved into Preston Hall, seeing it as someone else’s world. I had kept a close eye on the space between me and everything else, convincing myself it was fine, manageable.
And then I thought about tonight, Dad calling him son without realizing it, how Damien had remembered my dad’s favorite mystery novel, the fry dispute, and the way he held me on a public street as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
We still didn’t have a label for what we were.
Maybe one day we would.
Maybe I’d find the right words for what I really felt, feelings that had grown into something much larger than I had initially been willing to acknowledge.
Maybe one day I’d throw pride out the window and tell him...
"I love you."
But only time would tell.
We pulled apart just enough to rest our foreheads together, still grinning as the sun dipped lower behind us, the last of the golden light wrapping around our shadows.
Standing there in that fading light, with his arms around me, I felt one thing was crystal clear...whatever this was, I never wanted it to end.