She didn't know how long had passed before she finally woke. Opening her eyes, she was startled by the sensation of something damp on her forehead.
Reaching up, she touched it and realized it was a cloth. Bringing it closer, she frowned it was the one she usually used for cleaning.
A bit annoyed, she stood, wondering who had dared put that cloth on her head. Slowly getting up, she froze when she noticed someone sitting on the chair beside her, his chin resting on his hand, eyes closed, seemingly asleep.
It was none other than Desmond.
Her memory quickly pieced itself back together, recalling what had happened between them before she passed out.
Anger and irritation rushed through her veins, but she forced herself to calm down.
The last thing she wanted was to faint again she still had so much to do on her designs. And worse, Mr. Jerk Face was still here. She didn't quite trust him.
Glancing at the cloth again, she remembered how hot her body had been before.
Bringing her hand to her neck, she realized her temperature had gone down significantly. She didn't want to believe it, but it seemed Desmond had actually taken care of her.
The thought of him sitting there, changing the cold cloth on her forehead every few minutes, made something unfamiliar stir inside her a flicker of appreciation.
Turning her gaze back to him, still seemingly asleep, she began to study his features.
She had to admit, he did look… decent when his mouth wasn't moving.
His lips pink and soft-looking caught her attention. Too bad the things that came out of them made her want to rip them off.
Her eyes drifted along the sharp cut of his jawline before finally returning to his eyes only to find them wide open. Hazel.
And right now, they were glaring back at her with irritation, anger… and just a hint of teasing.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Desmond mocked, pushing himself up and straightening his clothes.
"My phone would probably die out on me if I did," Daisy shot back with sarcasm.
He rolled his eyes, checked the time, and realized it was already late at night. Without another word, he started toward the door.
Before he could twist the knob, Daisy's voice stopped him. It was soft, low but audible.
"…Thank you," she said, almost as if the words were being dragged out of her.
Desmond smirked faintly but didn't turn back. "Don't get too cocky. I only helped so you wouldn't have an excuse to deliver those designs late.
Honestly, it was the worst decision I've ever made. I expect those designs on my desk tomorrow. Good night, Miss Daisy."
And with that, he walked out.