An un-welcomed guest

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" Damien managed to shriek out with him panting out like an asthmatic person. This was the first time he'd encounter with this kind of scene. He never did slept with his targets, the only thing he did with them was to lure them out and strike in the right time. It felt as if he was in those tv-series that was categoried with 'comedy' and 'unexpected' in the same line. Was he dreaming or was he in a tv show set?

"L-look! I don't know how I ended up here in the fi-first place! I-" the platinum haired boy stuttered out, he wore a jacket with colour yellow on top of it and black on the bottom, he was also wearing a plain white t-shirt and it looked like he was a hiker, but Damien interupted him once again, with a lamp-shade raised in an attacking manner using his right hand and asking him again, in his thunderous voice; "Why in God's name are you here?!" Though in his tone, he knew there small parts of it that he was afraid. Damien wasn't afraid the fact that he had another surprise welcome-guest in his apartment. No, not that. Damien was afraid the fact that the person who was kneeling upright, raising their hands up in the air, surrendering his unwelcomed presence in the room, was still alive and will probably take the chance to report him to authorities. Damien didn't want that chance to happen at all. He still wanted to steal more and live more until he retires in his "Job" and become a soon-to-be-dying grandpa in his old home with his adoptive brothers and sisters.

"I-I-I du-don't know!" At this point the silver haired teen was about to burst into tears because of all this pressure and terrifying experience of being in a mad person's flat and him threatening you with a bed-side lamp. Wouldn't that be lovely morning.

Damien thought it was useless to be too stubborn now and keep on being hostile to the guest. Surprise guest or not, you should still act proper to your guest. He sighed in defeat and lowered his bed-side lamp but he still wouldn't let down his awareness towards the visitor. Damien stood up with his right arm holding his fine waist and massaged his temples with his left hand to overcome this early morning migraine. 'Great, I was supposed to sleep until I rot in this duvet now I have to deal with this? Is God really playing tricks on me right now? Jesus' he thought as he cussed to himself in a breath. Damien thought it wasnt that bad to socialize and tell the person, who was visibly shaking right now on his bed, that he was the reason why and how he was dead right now at this moment. Yet here he was, a 19 year old college student that was assigned to Damien to strike down in financial agreements, kneeling on Damien's bed and was shaking horridly as if he's being held hostage. Damien sighed again, but louder and genuine this time with more annoyance, as he hung his head down letting all his curly bangs bounce widly. He clapped loudly (This made the twink jump) and rubbed his hands together as if he had the most wonderful idea he ever had in these "suck-ass years" as what he'd called back then until now. "Alright then, we might as well talk this over in breakfast, would you like some eggs and toast? Coffee? Waffles?" Damien said happily as if he was serving his first customer while smiling so widely like a lunatic.

Damien poured himself a cup of coffee while the steam was going upwards, he remembers that when he was a child, he thought clouds were created by steam. Making coffee and coffee itself (The things that also made him calm was wine, alcohol and nicotine patches, in other times he would actually try and light up a cigarrette to make things more easier) was the only thing that could relieve Damien's things that stresses him out (Or his pet peeves rather)

The silver haired teen was busy monching on some buttered toast and would occaisionally drink the coffee Damien made. 'Maybe that's why he's so godamn skinny' Damien thought to himself while eye-ing out the teen. He had a skeletal main-frame and his snow like hair was somehow fitting to him. He was like an angel. Except he had no wings. He was nowhere associated with the word "free" either. He only made some coffee to himself making it look like as if he was the parent of this kid. 'Where ARE his parents? Shouldn't they be shit-worried right now that their son is somehow been missing for 48 hours straight?' His thoughts were correct yet no parent were to seen to be concerned about missing their boy. How odd. Damien dragged his chair to make a seat for him which made the day-dreaming teen to whip his head around of what's about to happen this time. He took a seat and carefully placed his coffee mug on the table. "Alright, let's start with the basics," Damien started with a tint of I-am-so-done-with-life tone in his voice. "Who are you exactly?" He asked dumbfoundedly while smiling like those waiters that serve you in a restaurunt. The adolescent's eyes were smoky and felt ghost-like, meeting it with Damien's honey coloured eyes which made you feel as if you were to be in the time of Fall again. It was radiating warmly and it was the opposite of the teen's. The black and yellow coloured jacket owner gulped his last bite of the toast and gazed away from Damien's eyes. Its because he wasn't hiding something, rather he was just really timid. Then he opened his mouth and three words seemed to fall out of his mouth rather than him saying it, "My name's Mason."