That Cliche Waitress

64

KIARA

"Damien, I'm only asking for another drawer in the bathroom. I don't understand why you're making such a big deal out of it. I mean, you're not even using the one I want. What harm comes from lending it to me? Only for a little bit... I don't even have that much stuff!" I tried my hardest not to beg.

"No."

"You're impossible," I rolled my eyes, "Fine. Keep it."

"That drawer is not empty. It needs to be refilled. I can give you another drawer." Damien explained.

"It doesn't matter. I just want to put my stuff away, shower, and sleep." I almost cried.

Damien directed me to another drawer. Without even bothering to organize, I threw the toiletries inside the drawer and shut it. I locked the bathroom door after Damien so I could shower in peace. I didn't make it any longer than it needed to be and I was no longer in a bath mood. Winter was approaching, so I put on my cozy pjs and applied my skincare. I put my hair up in a towel and left the bathroom.

"Did you hold a whole debate in there or something?" Damien teased, as he looked up from his book. He was laying on the bed in gray sweatpants and a white tshirt.

I gave him a face as I applied lotion on my hands.

"What are you reading?" I asked him, peaking at the cover of the book.

"The Art of War," he replied. He marked his place and put the book away.

"Wow. My sister loves that book...I mean she loved that book."

"Your sister?"

"If your opponent is of choleric temper, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak so that he may grow arrogant. The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting." I quoted.

"Impressive."

As I thought over the lines of the book, I realized how perfect Sun Tzu's--the author--advice was. Fighting and resisting him had not done me any good, and it wasn't going to do me any good after today either. My sister's voice repeated in my head, reading these lines to me at night as I teased her about being a bookworm.

I would use Sun Tzu's advice to escape: Pretend to be weak so that he may grow arrogant. 

"You mentioned your sister." Damien brought up the topic again.

"You already know," I replied, remembering the first time I had met him in his office. He had basically stalked me, even though in his mind he was just doing "research."

We stayed silent for a few minutes. I examined my nails, badly wanting a manicure, while Damien played around with his hands. I guess he didn't know how to approach the topic.

He looked back at me again, "How do you girls make your towel stand up like that?"

I smiled at his attempt to change the topic, although still annoyed that he had brought it up in the first place. 

"That's a secret I'll never tell." I smiled smugly.

"Ah, come on, Kiara. I always wanted to know."

I burst out laughing. Oh to be a male in this world. This man has waited 20 something years to ask a woman this very question.

"I just want to see--" he goes for my towel. I attempt to yank it away but I'm too late. 

"You have hair in it?!" Damien asks with a confused expression.

"You can't be serious." I looked at him with a straight face, "What the hell did you think we had in there?"

"I don't know! I never put too much thought into it," he defended himself.

"You know Damien, for a man so educated, you could be so dim sometimes."

"You're insulting me?"

"Oh, I would never."

"Good. That's what I thought."

I rolled my eyes as I dried my hair and applied oil. Then, I crawled into bed, facing the opposite direction of Damien.

"Hey, you're sleeping already?" Damien asks.

"What do you mean? It's really late and today was exhausting. What did you think was going to happen?"

"I mean, we did just get married after all." He gets under the sheets as well, scooting close to me to whisper in my ear.

"Damien, we are not a real married couple, honey. Don't forget that, okay?" I snuggled closer to my pillow and pulled myself slightly away.

"Baby girl, you'll be the one forgetting that real soon." His little whispers and his breath against my skin brought back the feelings I've been suppressing.

I had to come to an honest conclusion with myself. Did I like him?

No! It must be my hormones. I don't like him. He is a horrible human being who doesn't know what he wants. I just like the things he does to me. I couldn't possibly like this man when my standards were so high, could I?

I didn't know what I was feeling. Sometimes, I wanted him all over me. I love the time we spend together. I love when he treats me nice and he shows me his favorite books in the library. But, I hate when he is yelling at me. I hate when he promises something and doesn't fulfill it. I hate when he does things regarding me without even having the decency to tell me. 

He was not a relationship man. 

My thoughts were interrupted by a pair of strong arms encircling my waist and pulling me in closer. 

As much as I felt in danger with him, I felt safe in his arms.