Making Plans

It didn't even sound like a question. It was more of a statement of what exactly Damien expected from me and what he knew I should give. I'd never seen this side of him before, and it didn't scare me (as it probably should) but it definitely had me thinking. Who is Damien really?

"Good," he muttered, turning around to glance through the files. "I've already done the research on him so the hard part is over. All we've got to do now is one: type the report which we'll be handing in, and two: design the poster. So we're going to have to meet up a couple of times over the following weeks. When should we?"

Suppressing the inquisitive questions that had formed on the tip of my tongue, I slowly went along with what Damien proposed in order to avoid further arguments and said, "When do you want to meet?"

"What about on Sunday? Around noon at your place?"

"Why not here?"

Damien's lips drew into a thin line and he shook his head at me before saying, "Because I said so..."

Clenching my jaw, I shrugged and muttered, "Whatever."

I couldn't help but puzzle over the sudden change in Damien. I replayed the past few minutes in my mind over and over again, trying to make sense of him. Did he really just wear a mask when he was all flirtatious? I wanted to know him past the walls. I wanted to know him when he wasn't so infuriating. 

But would I ever get the chance when he kept changing his identity?

The End

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