Serena
Fuck! The room suddenly felt too hot, and it was very obvious that Damien was greatly unaffected by the tension in the room. He stood there unmoved, his eyes burning into mine.
The sound of a polite cough suddenly broke through the thick atmosphere, and I turned around to see my dad on his feet.
"Damien… finally you showed up just in time for breakfast. Please do sit, we have a lot to discuss."
I didn't turn around again to see if he moved, but from the way my entire body was ridiculously stiff, I could tell that his eyes were still on me.
My father signaled to the butler, and he reached for the chair next to me and pulled it backwards, hinting at Damien to come and join us at the table.
Great, just great. Not only did he hear me absolutely bad-mouth his character, he's now going to sit next to me.
From the way my father's demeanor improved, I could tell that Damien was already walking towards our table.
I pretended to dig into the delicious-looking pancakes, but my stomach wasn't exactly helping matters.
The air became even tighter when I felt him adjust himself to sit down.
I burrowed my head in silence and stared only at my plate for fear that if I looked up, I'd be met with the dangerously cold face of Damien Romano.
"How was your trip to Ardoria? I hope it wasn't too much of a bother?" my dad spoke, sounding too normal considering the way the atmosphere was so fucking tense.
There was silence, and for a moment I thought Damien wasn't going to reply, but he did.
"It was smooth, actually. Matter of fact, I was a bit excited, to say the least, but it seems I'm not particularly welcomed by someone. That hurt a little."
Lies! I was a lot of things, but I was certainly not dumb.
There was not a single trace of excitement or life in his voice, except for the rich accent and deep tone.
There was nothing else. If my father was annoyed, he didn't show it.
I tried to swallow another slice of pancake like I've been doing for the past couple of—how long has this been going on? Hours? It had to be, because there was no way that it's only been a few minutes.
I pretended to ignore the nearness of his voice; there was something else to it that I was still trying to reconcile, but the heat emanating from him was too much to bear.
How could one person command this much aura?
"Serena. Don't you have something to say to your husband-to-be?"
My dad looked at me with stern eyes. I couldn't help but feel a slight pinch of betrayal, but unfortunately, the feeling of embarrassment outweighed it by far.
I tried to smile while slowly turning my head to meet Damien's gaze, but he wasn't even looking at me.
The motherfucker was scrolling through his phone, and if he regarded the feast before him, he didn't act like it.
"Serena… my name is Serena."
What the actual fuck was that? Of all the things that could come out when I opened my mouth, it was this? Worse still, he didn't even look like he heard what I said.
A part of me wanted to pick up my fork and stab him for ignoring me so haughtily, but again, I couldn't completely blame him.
"I am well aware of what your name is," he said, his eyes still plastered on his phone.
"Even if your opinion of me is shitty, I'm not that much of a prick to not identify myself with basic information about my fiancée, like her name. However, if that was your attempt at a conversation, I hate to say it, but it's the most disappointing effort I've ever experienced. Seeing that you already have such strong opinions about me, you can certainly do better at finding good conversation starters."
Fuck! I hate him already. If I was embarrassed before, now I wanted the floor to open and swallow me.
I turned to my father for help, but he was already on his feet.
"I shall leave you two to get acquainted. I will be waiting for you in my study to discuss the necessary details regarding the wedding."
And that was it, my dad walked off like what was happening right now had absolutely nothing to do with him.
Silence again. This time, I couldn't swallow the pancakes. They just hung there inside my throat, making it even more difficult to breathe.
I needed air, and I knew it wasn't because of the goddamn pancakes.
I turned, and the next words that escaped my mouth may have been the worst thing I'd said in my entire 24 years of living:
"You look quite put together. I expected you'd look like an ogre."
He lifted his eyes, and my breath caught in my throat. Fuck, they were so beautiful. He had shiny emerald green eyes, it was too alluring to ignore.
The foolishness of my last statement didn't impact me as much compared to the disruptive feelings that had taken root inside my stomach.
I couldn't stop myself. My eyes started taking screenshots of his features, taking in each feature with dangerous scrutiny.
His nose was pointed and just the perfect size for his face, his lips were full and looked so red one would think he applied lipstick on them.
I had to mentally restrain myself from reaching out and trailing my fingers on them.
His jaw was nothing short of perfection; trimmed and toned.
He looked like he was carved out of a Greek god, and it felt so unfair. But in all my unabashed scrutiny, his eyes never left mine. The room closed in on us, and the masculine heat emanating from him almost made my ovaries go insane.
Without breaking eye contact, he spoke, but this time his voice was rougher than usual.
"Miss Serena Blackwood, on a scale of one to ten, how much do you want to fuck me right now?"