Sequel of The Devil & The Angel: Volume 1
A year and a half has passed since young Daisy Miller met the dark devilishly handsome Damien D'Angelo. Now the two are smack bang in the middle of a new chapter together, living their passion filled lives...
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Chapter Song - Never Let Me Down Again by Depeche Mode
Closet clean-outs. Personally I love cleaning my closet out and ridding myself of old clothes, that don't fit or I don't like anymore.
It's a way to clean out the ruckus of my life and brain, in a physical way. When I rid myself of the clothes that don't fit or I don't want, its like a weight lifted off my mind, knowing a part of my stressful college life is neat, organised and collected.
It makes my life easier knowing I can go to my wardrobe and pick any piece of clothing and like it, throwing it on without any stress that it doesn't fit, doesn't look good on my body or I simply don't like.
What I didn't think about is the fact I haven't properly done a closet clean out in a few years, so now Damien and I's walk-in robe, looks like Jack's room back in high-school.
You know, minus the diseases and other living organisms embedded through the mountains of trash that had collected in his room.
He thinks it's stupid I do weekly checks on his college dorm room, to make sure its spiff and speck, and smelling like fresh lemons and not seaweed mixed with body odour. But my mind simply can't handle the thought of Jack potentially killing someone due to toxic fumes emitting from his room.
I stand amongst sorted piles of donate, keep and maybe. I hate being indecisive, because having a maybe pile really is just another word for 'keep', I just don't want to feel guilty about it.
It's just hard giving away clothes, like who knows, in the future I might need a pair of worn-out glitter leggings. Maybe I'll use them for a Halloween costume or I'll have a glitter phase.
You never know.
Ugh, this is so difficult. I mean why can't I be like Damien who can just throw away shit without a single thought. I'm dead serious when I say he could throw Jack in the dumpster and watch as the dumpster truck takes him to the landfill.
He doesn't care.
Maybe I should make him help me - he can tell me what looks good, what's terrible and what's useless. He won't hold back, well only if I tell him to.
Sometimes - most of the time - he just says what I want to hear when I'm trying to decide, which in the end is not at all helpful.
I look down at the dainty leather band Rolex watch Damien got me last year for our anniversary - I love how great a listener he is. Since I rambled on about how I needed a new watch, which at the same time I was also hinting at to Damien because I know if I placed the idea in his mind he'd get me a really nice watch.
Which he did and now the dark leather banded Rolex watch sits on my wrist, ticking away. The time reads 12:37pm and it's then when I realise I'm hungry.
Meaning Damien is also hungry. But he's at work and not to anyone's benefit he tends to forget to eat lunch when he's knee deep in paperwork and peoples 'bullshit' if I'm quoting him.
