8 CHAPTER 8

Damien enjoyed seeing her unfold in front of him. Her confidence rose every day as if she had found something to water her flower of confidence. She bloomed and he reveled at the sight of it. She grew and he was more than honored to be at the front and center to see it.

He sat on his bed with his laptop but his eyes were on her while she was pulling her hair up in a ponytail. It revealed the tender skin of her nape before hiding it once again when she finished tying it up. Her hair curled after. It was always a wonder to see her hair like that—wavy when left alone, curly when tied up. There were times when she would braid her hair in different ways for a whole day and it would end up being so curly.

"So how was your class?" he asked when she was done.

She turned to face him and smiled, her eyes lighting up brighter than the sun. "The students are bright but stupid at the same time. It's so funny that they can explain the Krebs Cycle in their own words with complete impromptu drawing on the board but they cannot fathom the fact that being an ass won't gain them real friends." She shook her head and stood up to stretch.

They don't have sex every day but they have been confident enough with each other that one of them could visit the other without any issues at all.

"I guess that's how people's minds work these days."

She looked at him and tilted her head. "See, you're popular and everything, but the only friend I see you hanging out with is Michael and he's not even from your year or course. Why is that?"

He shrugged and closed his laptop so he could stand up and stretch too. "I just like Michael. He's smart, strong, and he's decent. I have to admit that I have friends who are not as decent as they should be. It hurts the head."

She raised a brow at that. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged once more and pulled her out of his room. The scent of his soap clung to her body much more than it would have clung to him. He never realized how fragrant it was until she used it on that lithe body of hers. Standing next to her made him realize how short she was. The top of her head didn't even reach his chin. Not her fault though. He was just too tall. She was 5'1 in height and he was about 6'5 or 6'6 by now. He doesn't even remember.

"Most of the guys my age are dicks. They are assholes. I am not a nice person but I have a problem with people who are assholes for no reason." He explained while they walked down the hallway hand in hand. "I have a problem with people who think that it's okay to touch others without consent. You know what I mean?"

She chuckled and bumped him with her hip before running ahead of him, letting go of his hand in the process. "You're way too mature for your age, Damien. But I like how you think. It's wonderful. Continue doing so and soon enough, you'll have a woman in your arms."

He watched her walk away from him. He raised a brow at her words. 'You are a woman and you sleep in my arms,' he wanted to point out but decided to keep it to his own for now. He doesn't think she was ready for whatever was blooming inside him.

His eyes trailed her small feet up to her toned legs then to her thick thighs.

She was wearing a pair of black shorts that hugged her thighs enough to show off their shape. They were long enough to hide the marks that he insisted on putting there. Ever since they started being fuck buddies, she had stopped wearing her sleeveless shirts and started wearing t-shirts. Sometimes, she would wear one of his as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

They didn't bother hiding their relationship either. What was the point of hiding it? They were both consenting adults and she was not his professor in any subject. And she may never be. So it was good.

Now, there are a couple more things that she knew about her.

She's 24 years old (turning 25 in October)

She's a genius by anyone's standard (but she refuses to believe it. She thinks she's brilliant but not a genius)

She's on her way to getting her PhD.

She washes her underwear by hands.

She loves Metallica, but she also loves Disney.

She wears different scents depending on her moods.

She loves cuddles.

She is wild in bed.

She is an erotic-romantic person. She could be thinking of flowers and chocolates one minute then turn that romance to eroticism in under 3 seconds flat.

She hates her body but claims that she likes it. (The woman is a puzzle!)

He sighed and shook his head before lengthening his stride to walk after her when he realized that she was already so far from him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and walked side by side with her. "Maybe I'm happy with you and I don't need another woman," he teased and bumped his hip to her.

Her laughter reverberated along the hallway as she threw her head back and laughed with pure glee. "Don't joke with me, man. I don't think I'm your type of woman at all."

"What do you think is my type of woman?" He was curious about how her mind works when it comes to him. He just had to know.

"Your type of woman is someone you could show off to your friends. Someone who is beautiful, sexy, and smart. You're not shallow so I don't believe you would want a shallow woman by your side." She walked to the bar of the parlor room and poured two glasses of whiskey for each of them. "Sophisticated and elegant come to mind when someone imagines a partner for you. You need someone who can handle your whims and moods. It'll be wonderful to see you grow with someone like that."

She faced him with a glass in her hand before leaning back against the bar and taking a sip from it. The remaining light of the day highlighted the gold in her hair and eyes, and it would always be a wonder how someone like her could not see the beauty in herself.

He saw something in her eyes before she shifted her gaze to the window that overlooked the garden outside. He didn't know what it was but it wasn't the usual shine of her eyes. It only lasted for a second or so and he wasn't even sure if he saw it right or if it was just a product of his imagination. He shook his head and took his glass. "To be honest, I don't have a type. If my eyes and mind are caught by someone, my heart follows. It doesn't have to be someone with big busts or whatever. I don't care about those. What I care about are their mind and heart."

Her eyes landed on him once again. With the height difference, she had to tilt her head up almost as if she was challenging him to a fight. Her lips curved up slowly. "You'll have to be careful with me then," she joked, "You might fall in love with me."

"That goes without question. For you, what we have is just an experiment, am I right?"

She chuckled and finished her drink before giving him one of her naughty smiles. "Yeah. That's right." She pushed herself away from the bar and walked away from him. "I have a date with a friend of mine. I'll be late. I'll see if I can sneak into your room to take advantage of you later," she winked at him before leaving him behind.

He doesn't think that he was in love with the professor but he cannot claim that he doesn't have any feelings either. It seems that he had dug a grave for himself. He downed his drink and went back to his room to finish his schoolwork, but his phone rang. "Yeah?" he answered while walking up the stairs.

"Where you at?" his youngest sister, Natasha, asked from the other line.

"At home, why?" Of the two sisters he had, he liked Natasha the most. She was the youngest of the three children. At 12, she was strong-headed and stubborn but he was intelligent and hard-working. She was his pride and joy. She was handling their family better than he ever did and he was grateful for that.

��I ran away."

The words stopped him mid-step. His hand tightened on the handrail of the stairs. He couldn't have heard that right. Did she say she run away? Impossible. This was Natasha Criss they were talking about. If it was Cassandra it would have been a different story but this was Nat. "What was that?"

"I ran away," Nat repeated. "I can't take it anymore. I just can't. Please… pick me up."

Damien turned around and ran down the stairs. "Where are you? I'll be there." Explanations would be asked later. For now, he needed to have his sister safe. He took note of the place Nat rattled off before running to the garage. He got into his pre-loved 2015 Dodge Challenger and sped off after putting his sister on speaker. "Just wait for me there, alright? Don't move. I'm coming."

It took him an hour to get to his sister and just as he had told the younger Criss, Nat didn't leave. She just sat in front of the 24-hour convenience store on the outskirts of their hometown.

Damien parked his car before going to her. "Nat…"

The shorter Criss jumped up and wrapped her arms around her brother. "Please don't bring me back there. I can't. I can't do it anymore." Nat was not someone who would openly show her emotions so her words lay heavy on her older brother. Her blonde hair was chopped short and uneven, making him raise his brow.

"Okay, let's calm down for now," Damien untangled his sister from him. "Sit down while I go buy us something to eat and drink, alright?" he entered the convenience store and bought food, drinks, and chocolate for his girl. It was crazy. "What's going on?" he asked when he sat across from Nat and handed her the bag full of food.

She didn't look lost or confused. If anything, she looked determined. Her eyes were strong and her shoulders were straight. She had grown in the months that he was gone. She was not a child anymore but a young woman doing her best to be free of her cage.

"I can't take it anymore," she ignored the foods and looked into her brother's eyes. "I don't want to be with dad, and I don't want to go to mom either. Dad is too busy with work and I can't handle his girlfriend and her kids. I'm supposed to be his baby. But I'm not."

Damien opened a bag of her favorite chips and offered it to her before opening a can of soda for her too. "I understand where you're coming from but what's your plan?" he wanted to see how far she had thought about this. He wanted to know if this was just some childish whim or something he should take seriously.

"I have money. I have saved about 200 dollars. I know it won't take me anywhere far but I would go. It doesn't matter where I land as long as it is far from both of them. I was planning on coming to you but I didn't want to burden you. I know university life is difficult and that you work while you're studying to make sure you have extra aside from the money dad sends you."

He winced at that. He didn't want to pop her bubble by saying that their dad didn't send him any money at all. "It'll be difficult to live alone," he pointed out.

"I know. I'll find a job. I can tutor kids my age. I'm smart."

"Parents might not want to hire you as the tutor of their kids. You're still a kid after all."

Her brows furrowed as she glared at the can of soda in front of her.

He could almost hear her thoughts but he leaned back and waited for her to reply to his point. To be honest, he would support her in any decision she made but he had to make sure that she was sure of her actions and that she was aware of the consequences. He wanted to take the right steps for her sake.

"I can apply for scholarships. Then apply for online jobs. I can do it. I know I can." Her eyes begged him and he was too weak for them. Those huge blue eyes had always been a weakness for him. "Or… I hate to say this but…. You can help me for now and once I find a job, I'll pay you back. I promise."

He opened his can of soda and took a huge gulp before looking back at her. "You know dad won't allow you to leave, right? He and mom will throw a massive bitch fit."

"At this moment, I don't care. I don't want to be their mediator anymore. I don't want to be the one taking their jabs to each other just because I'm the one who's there. I am tired of listening to them bad mouth each other just because they want to. I don't want that kind of life anymore. I want to enjoy my life."

"And what's your plan to persuade those two?"

"It's either they let me go and they know where I am with updates from me every week or I run away and they won't know where I am or if I'm still alive." She leaned back on her chair and glared at him. "That applies to you too. You either help me leave or you don't."

"Hey, now, young lady. I don't like your tone. I will whoop your ass if you leave without telling me where you are. I swear to everything that is holy," he warned, his eyes narrowing then widening at her. "Don't even fucking try me."

She raised a brow at him and gave him one of her I-know-something-that-you-don't smile, sending shiver down his spine.

"Natasha Angela Criss, I swear to God!"

"So help me leave. I'll be good," she smiled widely before popping a chip into her mouth. "Help me and we'll see where it goes, okay?"