Stop Playing Innocent // COMPLETED

42 // Cake

(Jo's P.O.V. again)

After spending hours on the same goddamn bench in the park with Damon, talking about everything from how he styles his hair to get it to the amazing way it always looks - "Well when you're born naturally sexy, your hair goes along with it." "Oh, shut up." - to the questioning existence of those tall fishes in SpongeBob who all look exactly the same, we finally headed back home in the early hours of the morning.

Mum and Michael were asleep but I could tell that the little light left in in the kitchen was still on by my mum for me and Damon to safely get back later.

Without any arguments, the both of us tiptoed upstairs to my room and ended up falling asleep together even though Damon had the same habit of holding onto me at night as if I was some kind of a teddy bear who could run away, but I didn't mind it nowadays.

It was cute.

|

The morning came instantly and so did the groaning from the both of us about how we should just get a server to come give us breakfast in bed on lazy mornings like these.

"But we're just two kids with not enough money to even buy their own car", he said.

"Even kids with no cars can dream", I shrug and we carry on brushing our teeth.

Heading downstairs... now that was something else.

With Damon behind me, I stand in front of the kitchen door for a few seconds, terrified, having no idea of what might happen if we walk in.

"Should we knock?", I stupidly ask.

He laughs, "We live here."

I look at the door again to take a deep breath in and open it, only to see the wonderful sight of my mum and Michael both sitting in a whispered conversation with their coffees at the kitchen table as they look up at us by the door in an anticipated expression, like they've been waiting for us to come downstairs.

I hear Damon curse as he turns back around, "Ah fuck, okay, I'll just go back-"

"Don't even think about walking away from this, Damon", his dad strictly says which stops him from walking away.

Taking one step inside, I look up at Damon next to me and worryingly take his hand in mine that wouldn't stop running through his hair, a habit he had when he was pissed off. He looked angry. But I knew if his dad wasn't here, he wouldn't have been like this now.

My mum is first to break the torturing silence as she takes her gaze away from our intertwined hands and ever so gently smiles at the both of us to motion at the seats across of her, "Jo'ee, Damon, would you mind having a seat?"

Damon tiredly huffs but doesn't protest against it as we walk towards the dinner table. Nervous, I sit in the same place as I sat yesterday when we had our 'family' lunch after school, which was just ironic really on how much the atmosphere changed from then and now.

Damon sits next to me, but even I notice the way he sees Michael watching his every move towards me. So, he moves much closer to me and rests his hand on my thigh when glaring back at his dad in return as I rolled my eyes at it all.