Damien // your enemy

Morning light streaked across the room, smelling of whiskey and someone else's perfume. Yesterday's betrayal by your boyfriend had led you to the bar, and alcohol had driven you into the arms of someone you'd called your enemy for years.

You woke up first and froze. A tattoo—a single letter—was visible on Damien's sleeping shoulder. As soon as you touched it, his eyes snapped open. In one movement, he towered over you, overpowering you with his height and heavy gaze.

“This is your letter, baby,” he breathed.

You felt your pupils dilate. This wasn't a joke. This was a brand, made over a year ago.

“But we hardly talked back then…” you whispered. “We just traded barbs. Why?”

Damien took your face in his hands, forcing you to look straight into his eyes.

"Because I knew even then that there would be nothing else underneath this skin. I got it the night I saw you and Liam in the park. You were laughing, he was hugging you... And I stood in the shadows and knew that if I didn't do something crazy, I would just explode. It was my insurance. A reminder of who I was willing to make a deal with the Devil for."