It was a long, boring and emotional day for me. I felt terrible and miserable even though he was the one who cruelly mistreated me. Anyway, I was cooking dinner; pan chicken and veggies.

I wasn't in a mood to cook something fancy. I'm exhausted for today. The cuts on my feet aren't bad, I can walk properly. I took my rest throughout the day and much to my appreciation, Damien didn't disturb me for whole day. But what a good thing, he didn't even ask for coffee. Usually he drinks about seven to eight cups of per day. Mad.

Just as I washed the chicken, a voice said entering the kitchen, "I have ordered takeaway."

And I sighed, relieved. So I don't have to cook for today. I was really tired, it might seem like my job isn't that hard but working as his assistant at the same time being his chef and caretaker is a hard job.

"Could you make me a cup of coffee?" And well very ill mannered Damien. Never like to add 'please' with his sentence. It annoys me when people come and order around. It makes me not want to do the job. Sure I'm his chef but as a human I need those magic words, other wise its rough and rude.

I was worn out and working for someone who is not grateful isn't very pleasing.

"Okey," I nodded. And he left without any 'thank you', much expected from Damien, isn't it?

Here I thought I would jump back in the bed but the coffee addict requires his coffee. Of course how else would he function then. He is just like coffee. Bitter and poisonous. And his moronic attitude; how he changes it so frequently, bipolar imbecile.

I decided to make flat white, simple and easy to prepare. Just then my phone on the kitchen counter started ringing. I took a quick look at who it was, and my face break into a huge smile.

I picked up the call.

"Hey, Princess." He greeted in his normal happy tone.

"Hey,"

"How are you?"

"Good. What about you?"

"Tired, had alot of shooting today."

"Oh. Then rest up!"

"Will do. Wanna go for dinner tomorrow?" I wish I could. Isn't it working day tomorrow. Usually Mondays are pretty harsh on me as Damien becomes more workaholic than usual. It feels like the speed that Damien works in, he is scared that if he doesn't then that business of his will go in vain.

"Err.."

"How about at 11?"

"Yeah sure then." I sighed. This man knows me so much.

"Okey, see ya!"

"Take care."

Well! That went well. Xander is a very understanding person but now I kind of regret saying yes to him for the relationship. It was out of anger, I took that decision very fast. I don't really know what I was doing at that moment. But I can't hurt Xander, for the respect of our friendship, I am really willing to give us a try. I am sure it will be worth it. If not, then we can be just friends. But I hope in a process I don't hurt him. Should I be more specific to him? Tell him about my circumstances. But what if he judge me and then maybe no longer wants to be my friend.

As I was done with the coffee, I held the cup and went towards his room. I knocked the door and got the response but not from inside the room. "Miss Smith,"

His voice came from the living room as he sat on the couch.

Where is my mind working at? How did I pass by there, not seeing him on the couch.

I looked at him in horror, the kitchen and living room are very close. Was he sitting there this whole time? Did he hear me talking with Xander? As I remembered, I didn't really say anything that would get me into trouble so I relaxed but still worried.

He put his hand forward to take the cup from my hands. I didn't know he wanted me to pass it to him as I put it on the table, but looking at his hand, I huffed and grabbed the cup and passed it to him without looking.

Too much of a lazy man he is sometimes.

But in the process, the hot cup fell from my hand over his. I shouted in pain at the sudden contact of hot coffee over my skin. It was a tiny drop but it was too hot. As I relaxed, my eyes snapped at Damien's hand and I gulped in absolute horror.

I did not just poured all the hot coffee over his already bruised hand.

"I am so sorry. Oh no, I am so sorry." I apologised as I started freaking out.

Did you just harm him, Winnie?

"I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry. I am so sorry."

"It's ok." He said in a straight tone. But I also heard him murmuring under his breath, 'Nothing that I don't deserve.' Thank you for my clear ears to hear otherwise the tone was very low.

But what does he mean by that?

And.

How can he sit there like nothing happened?

His hand was blood red and the fact it was already bruised, made it worst for me. I felt terrible for hurting him further. I can't even imagine the pain of pouring hot liquid over fresh cuts. The thought alone made me flinch.

God, what have I done?

I ran all the way to the kitchen to get the ice and wet compress. Coming back I sat down on the couch with him as I observed his hands, the bandage was all wet. Great, Winnie just great. I have to take it off. It looked quite nasty but I have to take care of the pain I inflicted on someone.

As I took the bandage off, the blood from the cuts leaked out. And then only I noticed there were more cuts, his hand was practically fully bruised and it looked quite bad. I remember when I put bandaged around his palms in the morning, it wasn't this bad and now it seemed like more and worst.

But what shocks me is his straight face. Does it not hurt? What kind of a person won't flinch on a hot water contacting their skin. This seems unreal, there are no emotions inside him. He has such a wall build that I'm sure no one can break. So many months since I'm living with him but yet I don't understand what type of a man Damien is. If I was in his place at the moment, I would be dieing with the pain. Wasn't it today he was just lecturing me over a small raw piece of bacon which was a genuine mistake. Now that he really should be shouting at me, he is quiet. I mean this is a genuine mistake too but it's completely wrong to physically hurt someone with or without intention.

His hands was ruined. It will take few weeks before it gets back to normal I guess. "Why are there so many cuts?" As I asked, he pulled his hand away from my grip.

Soemtimes he behave like a stubborn child.

"I think you need a doctor for this hand." I stated.

He didn't respond to me, grabbed a tissue from the table and wiped the blood off but it kept oozing out. I was concerned, it will get a serious infection if he doesn't show up to the doctor. In worst case, what if later they have to cut the whole hand off just because he didn't go to the doctor at the right time.

I sat closer to him, grabbing his hand to show me again. I cannot let it be. He might have this non serious over his wound but this is something done by me and I have to take care of it by hook or crook.

I don't know how much I got close to him in the process of just grabbing his hand, as I looked at myself, I was practically sitting on his lap. My cheek turned red at the embarrassment. Damien was looking at me as if staring right into my soul. Sometimes it feels like he can read me like an open book, it's easy for him but when it comes to reading him, I don't know what goes in that crazy mind of his. Only god knows, maybe he plans my murder.

I tried to get away but his hand went around my waist as he pulled me closer, making me sit on his legs.

"Not again." I said as I tried to get away from his tight hold.

I don't even know how he is holding me in place with his bruised hand. I looked at it and the blood that was dropping out on my dress.

He pulled me more closer. My face hit his, our lips almost touching. Just as he was about to lean in, I stood up from his lap.

Giving a moment to myself, I got my breath back.

"The hand,-" I started but was cut off by the door bell.

"It must be the takeaway." Damien said as he got up.

"I'll get it." I said to him, making him sit back again.

I went to open the door to the delivery boy. Surprisingly the delivery boy looked too familiar. I took the bags of food from him, thanking him. As I was about to close the door politely bidding him goodbye, he said, "Are you by any chance Winnie Smith?"

I gulped in as I was about to deny but someone had to ruin it for me. A stupid voice from inside yelled my name. "Winnie,"

Wow! Wrong timing, Damien. That idiot really took my name in the worst situation. All the other time he be like, 'Miss Smith' and now he had to call my name out. Stupid Damien.

"Winnie?" The boy asked again. I nodded.

"Remember me? Jordi from high school?" He said.

"The nerd Jordi?" I asked.

"Sure," I think calling him wasn't the best.

I remember him being in my class but no I didn't have any kind of friendship with him. I think he was also on the list of kids who used to get bullied in school. Now looking at him, puberty sure did it's magic on him. I won't say he was very beautiful but he looked no less. He was a boyish kind of beauty, in a way if I compare him to Damien who's more of a manly beauty.

But wait, what's the comparison, Winnie?

I remembered him to be a genius and smart. He was really fantastic in studies, how come he is doing this delivery job.

"So what's up these days?" He asked.

"Nothing. What about you?"

"Got the scholarship at Yale, trying to save some money by this job."

Of course he would be getting a scholarship at Yale. I mean wasn't he the brightest student of all. He was given 'nerd' title for a reason though he wore no glasses.

I, on the other hand was named 'nerd' due to my appearance. Fat, glasses and braces. On studies I was just average, not the smartest. Ah! It's a shame to recall those ugly memories.

"You changed a lot." He commented. "You looke more pretty now." He added.

"Same goes for you." I replied.

"Do you remember Grayson Davies?" I questioned.

"Oh him. My, even yours worst bully." I nodded but Grayson already apologized.

Forgiven and Forgotten.

"Soon after you left he was expelled from the school." He stated and I gasped at the information.

Well, Grayson didn't tell me that.

"Why?" I asked, curious.

"Well, the bullying got worst. He was a narcissist, wasn't he? And later it was found he had sadistic personality disorder." I didn't know what to say. I just met him a month ago and he seemed normal to me.

"But I met-"

I was about tell him I met up with Grayson but obviously Damien had to interrupt.

"Miss Smith,"

Damien stared at both of us, but more towards Jordi.

"Are you making friends with the delivery guy now." He uttered.

Here we go.

"I'll take my leave. Nice to meet you, Winnie. Take care." And just like that Jordi was gone.

Didn't even share his number or email. And our conversation was not even finished. Almighty Damien of course has to rudely poke.

"Why were you talking with him for so long?" His voice had a clear hint of anger.

"Cause it appeared to be, he was my classmate."

"Always finding a way to talk with men, don't you, Miss Smith?" He said through a gritting tone.

"Yes! Cause that's what all whores does, don't they, Mr Knight?!" Before he could use that word term on me. I decided to say it myself. Cause I don't like it when he use those slangs on me, it makes my heart cry.

"A pity, Miss Smith."

I was about to say something back but my eyes caught towards his hand that was still not good. Jesus, just looking at it gives me anxiety. I can feel the pain in my hand just by looking at his.

"Your hand," I mumbled as I stepped closer to him.

"You already ruined it, want to ruin it more so you can be satisfied. Huh?" He spat those words harshly.

Satisfied with his bruised hand? I would be a monster if I start to think like that. This man is insane, just believes whatever comes in that non existent brains of his.

And now he blames me? Just few moments ago he said 'it's ok'. But this kind of bipolar behaviour is expected from him.

Nevermind him and his mental disorder. I calmly went to the living room and patiently waited for him to come here too. It doesn't matter if he wants or if he doesn't want me to take care of the wound. For me I think it's my job to take care of it as I am also his care taker or should I say baby sitter.