Sorry if this chapters a bit too intense, am I moving too fast? Let me know your suggestions!

Charlie Heaton as Charles, (totally not intentional lol)

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To say I slept would be a lie. How long I was originally passed out for, I'm not really sure, but I knew with concussions you didn't go to sleep. I just paced around the room with an annoying migraine, my body stiffening whenever I heard any footsteps outside my door.

It wasn't until eight am the next morning when the door opened and Joey walked in, his face still in the same sympathetic expression from earlier. For some reason, it really freaking annoyed me.

"Come on, breakfast is downstairs." I huffed as I followed him, my fingernails gripping onto my arm out of habit. As soon as we entered the kitchen I felt all the eyes on me, my dumbass making sure to meet their stares head on.

I sat down with Joey to my right and Jake to me left, Charles sitting in front of Jake and diagonal to me. An empty plate sat next to Charles, who was still giving my death stares. Why? Not really sure. But I couldn't take it after less than a minute and looked up, giving him my fiercest glare I had learned to perfect over the years.

He flinched a bit and turned when the door opened up again, the seat next to him scraping against the wood floor. Damien flopped down and began loading eggs and bacon into his plate, not even bothering to say anything to those around him.

"So, could maybe possibly go home? You know, to get stuff." I asked quietly, watching as Damien continued to eat with one arm.

"What could you possibly want to get? Guns? Knives?" I grit my teeth at Charles, his face set in his famous scowl he always gave me.

"Fucking tampons, what do you think! Clothes, a phone charger, to make sure my mom isn't fucking dead in her own vomit!" His eyes widened at the end of my sentence, my mind skidding to a stop inside of my brain as I realized what I just said.

God I need to think before I talk.

"We can go after breakfast." I looked hesitantly to Damien, his eyes staring at me with an unknown emotion.

Joey and Jake on the other hand? Pity. Stupid fucking pity.

I growled and took a piece of toast and bacon, shoving them into my mouth as I stood up and made my way up the stairs. I opened the door to Damien's room and stalked to his closet, shutting it behind me as I tugged off my shirt. I slid on a grey shirt hanging up, looking around to make sure I was truly alone, and sniffed his shirt gently.

Good god, I was pathetic. His smell even turned me on. How did a human being smell this good!?

I sighed before opening the closet door and going into his adjoining bathroom, taking a makeshift shower with a rag, the sink, and regular soap. I finally smelt somewhat okay, my face fresh from what makeup I had on and my clothes looked okay. The leggings I had on the day before paired well with Damien's large grey shirt, making me look even smaller than I did before compared to him.

I wasn't small though. My chest was too big for my liking and my hips too rounded, including a bit of a bump from my stomach. Not exactly sure where the stomach came from, I don't eat much at home, mainly because my mother ate everything in sight when she's drunk or high.

I finally made my way back into the room, greeted with Damien taking his shirt off. His back was thankfully, facing me, so he didn't see the way my eyes widened and my mouth falling open. I quickly snapped my mouth shut before leaning against the doorway, fiddling with my fingers.

I looked back up when I heard his breath catch, peering up through my eyelashes as I endured he was, in fact, fully clothed. Not that I would've minded, but still.

It's the thought that counts.

His gaze was heated as he took in the sight of me in his shirt, a tinge of red finding its way to the tips of his ears. I could barely see it over his shaggy hair, but I let it go, not wanting to call attention to the tension between us.

If you could even call it that.

He shook himself out of whatever trance he was in, grunting at me before making his way out of his room. I rolled my eyes, following closely behind him while I hopped on each foot as I tugged on the combat boots I had worn earlier.

I watched his body as we walked down the stairs, my heart fluttering along with the thousands of butterflies in my stomach. Stupid feelings, stupid hormones, stupid stupid stupid girl. My hand wrapped around my forearm out of habit, my eyes dropping to the ground as I followed him like a lost puppy.

We went out to his car with Joey following behind us, climbing into the back seat as they got into the driver and passenger side. The car lurched forward as we rolled in silence, the only words spoken coming from me as I directed them. I didn't miss their shocked looks when we arrived in front of my house, the crumbling terrace sticking out like an eyesore.

The grass was overgrown and the walls stained, the wooden porch creaky and dark with mold. Several holes littered the wooden floor, bits of trash littered along the ground. The door itself was bright red, and didn't fit in with the yellow stained house.

I sighed out a breath before stepping out of the car, letting my head drop unconsciously as I made my way up the steps. I paused at the door, hearing their steps behind me before slowly turning to them. I had no idea whether my mother was home or not, whether she was conscious or not.

"Listen, can you guys please stay outside?" I don't know whether it was how vulnerable I sounded, or how broken I probably looked at the moment, but Joey nodded before sending Damien a pointed look. Damien hesitated before nodding along with him, his jaw clenching a bit more.

I opened my door and cringed at the sight before me, whiskey stained walls and torn furniture. Bottles and cans littered the walls with the TV blaring Oprah. This was incredibly embarrassing, and they weren't even in the house.

I shut the door quietly behind me, turning off the TV and began picking up as quietly as I could. I heard shuffling upstairs, my heart racing mad I hurried into the kitchen. I took out a six pack of beer and a large bottle of Grey Goose vodka and set them into the fridge, knowing well that mom would be beyond pissed I was leaving.

"Where have you been?" She slurred slightly, my eyes meeting her cold brown ones from the kitchen doorway.

"Staying at a friends for a few days, I set drinks in the fridge and I'll be back with a new pack of cigarettes and your favorite rum." I tried to sweet talk her, but her eyes narrowed on me from five feet away.

"Are you lying?" She spoke louder, moving so I could see her properly in the light above the oven. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hair was greasy, a small scar from the incident stretching from her eyebrow to the corner of her forehead.

"No mom." Pain riddled my cheek, her teeth clenched as she glared at me.

"You're leaving me, you are in no position to call me that!" Her voice grew louder as I shut my eyes, moving around her to make my way to my bedroom.

Unfortunately, she decided to follow me.

"Yore leaving me just like them! It's pathetic, how you're whoring yourself out like this!" I shut my door behind me, stuffing clothes into my bag. I took out contact solution and an extra pair of brown contacts, shoving them into the bag followed by my charger.

I opened the door to I've met with my my mothers glare, but she had a small bottle of Malibu rum in her hand now. She followed me down the stairs, pausing when I did right before the front door.

"Bye mom." I opened the door quickly, bowing my head in her presence.

"Don't fucking call me that!" I shut the door just as the bottle made contact with the wood, wincing at the crashing noise and her hollow screams.

I thanked everything above me that Jake and Damien were leaning against their car, my eyes adverting themselves from their heated looks. I let my hair fall as a curtain, praying the bruise would wait a few hours before forming.

I needed to figure out an excuse, maybe hit myself in front of them or let someone hit me? I don't really know, I just needed something. I quickly got into the backseat, slapping a smile on my face when Damien cast his eyes at me.

"Everything okay?" I nodded my head as he started the car, grinning at the passing trees. It'll be bad when I get back, but for now, I could let myself breathe.

I got out of the car quickly once we reached his huge house again, walking around to grab my bag. As I reached Damien's door he threw t open, immediately connecting with my jaw and sending my stumbling back onto the gravel driveway. My eyes shut at the impact of the rocks on my back, a shout from Damien hitting my ears.

"Fern!" I looked up to him and Jake crouching over me, Damien's wide eyes staring at me. Regret and guilt filled his face, my hand rubbing against my jaw.

I winced at my slight touch, a string of curse words leaving my lips. "If you wanted me at your feet you could've just said so." I muttered, earning a chocked chuckled form Jake.

Damien just glared at him before flickering his eyes back to me, his arms wrapping around me quickly to lift me into his arms. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

I rolled my eyes as he hastily made his way into the house, Charles eyes widening at the sight of my surely bruised jaw and Damien's shocked and wide face. He followed behind us along with Jake, making his way up the stairs. "Damien, you hit my jaw, not my legs. I can walk you know."

Damien kicked his bedroom door closed, the groans and shouts from Charles and Jake sounding through the wooden door. "This is my fault, let me take care of this okay? My father always made sure to let me know not to hit woman, so let me feel guilty over this." I groaned, nodding slightly as he set me on his bathroom cabinet.

His fingers were gentle as he put a cream over my bruise, my eyes watching his skilled movements. He had taken the sling off at some point, but his arms as stiff as he moved. I could see the occasional twinge of pain on his face, my eyes eventually meeting his dark ones.

"Take out your contacts." I looked at him slowly before using my index finger and my thumb to slide out the single brown contact, blinking at the unfamiliar feeling. I placed it into a small bowl set aside, not even caring that it'll dry out soon.

I continued staring at him for the longest time, my eyes looking back at him. He was beautiful, and I swear I could say that over and over again till I finally died. This was bad, this was so bad, but I just continued to stare and lean in inch by inch.

I stopped myself right before our lips would've hit, letting my head lean into the crook of his neck instead. I heard him breathe out before his hands timidly reached up, gently brushing my wild hair from my shoulders. His fingers touched the bruise again, his breath catching when I visibly flinched.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, his head shaking above me.

"It's my fault, I- I'll be right back." He quickly pulled away from me, my eyes watching his retreating body out of the bathroom. The door shut behind him as he left me to myself, my heart clenching at how stupid I was.

It was ridiculous, this feeling that was left within me. I felt rejected, as stupid as it was. The thing was, he never leaned in, it was completely me that leaned in and wanted to kiss him. He didn't want to kiss me, he didn't want me.

I turned and looked at myself in the mirror, this damn wall I tried to keep up crumbling beneath my own gaze. This was my fault, and I couldn't help but apologize to my father, to Stella, to myself.

And above all, to Damien. He could do the worst thing in the world, and I would still find myself apologizing to him.