Catching his breath, Daimon opened his eyes and watched me. I looked down at him, afraid of what would happen next. I honestly didn’t know this Addie. This Addie was Daimon’s and I was scared of her and how she felt for him. I reached down to caress is face, but he slapped my hand aside.
“It’s the first time I got pity sex,” he smirked.
“What?” He may have well punched me right into my heart. “Is that what you think? That it was pity sex?” I rose up, feeling the emptiness inside me the moment Daimon slid out.
“Interesting, maybe I should call on my mother more often since my shitty relationship with her seems to rock your world,” he bit out.
“Think what you want,” I said bitterly. “I honestly don’t believe your mother when she says you’re good inside. To me, you’re nothing but an asshole,” I hissed, angry at myself for even thinking anything other than what Daimon really was.
“All you want is money, nothing else. So why bother fucking me now?” he asked. I ignored him as I made my way to the bathroom, but Daimon threw himself in front of me.
“Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me it’s not about the money! Tell me it’s not because I looked pitiful and dejected! Tell me you just fucked me because you wanted to,” he said fiercely as he pointed to the bed. I looked at him, my insides burning with anger.
“I want to…I wanted to be there for you, to care for you. I’m supposed to be your wife…” I found myself trying to find more reasons. “I… just forget it,” I snapped.
“Admit it, Addie! Just fucking say it,” he demanded.
“Fine! Yes! I wanted you. I want you always. I want you inside me. Your touch, it drives me crazy. But what is the use of it all? You’re nothing but a prick who taunts me. So I told you, now what? I know you, Daimon. You’re going to use it against me, to make what little life I have left, into a living fucking nightmare! So I admitted it. Fine! Are you happy now?” I shouted, tears pouring down my face.
Daimon reached out his hands, but I slapped them aside.
“I hate myself for having even thought of wanting you. Every chance you get, you push that much harder,” I said angrily. “I’m sick of it.”
“This is us. This is who we really are. There’s no bullshit between us. Don’t you see it, Addie? It’s you and me. No one else,” he insisted.
“Yeah, it’s too bad I don’t want this that’s between us,” I said bluntly.
“Yes, you do. You love how much I push you. You need what I do, without me, you couldn’t face your true self,” he said.
“Think what you want. Now, can you move?” I snapped, upset that he might be right.
“Why?”
“Because, Daimon, I feel your cum leaking down my leg and I would like to wash it off,” I bit out.
I pushed past him and locked myself in the bathroom. I turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower. Fuck, fuck and fuck! Well done, Addie, expose yourself to Daimon. Now he has even more ammo on you. I let the hot water fall down on me as I leaned up against the tiles, contemplating my next move. Daimon was going to use this against me; I just knew it. I could be passive and let it drive him crazy or I could admit it and accept how I felt. The thing was I didn’t know what I really felt. Daimon brought out in me so many emotions at once that I hardly knew how I felt most of the time.
I dried myself off and got dressed again. I headed out to deal with the aftermath of my stupidity, but I when walked out, Daimon wasn’t there. He was in his usual place downstairs near the window playing his violin.
He played so beautifully. His hand masterfully drew his bow across the strings while his fingers pressed down onto the violin. I made my way that much closer, mesmerized by the sound he was playing. It started off slowly but became powerful as he feverishly played. He turned his body and stopped when he saw me. He held onto his violin and bow and waited.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t have disturbed you.”
“It’s fine,” he said as he put down his violin in its case and placed it back in its place by the small library he had by the window. “You think I’m sexier now with my violin, don’t you?” he smirked.
“No, not really,” I lied.
It wasn’t so much sexy as it was just simply beautiful. When Daimon played his violin, it tugged at my soul. The very music he played was never once happy, but rather pained and passionate. Daimon could never really use his words to express how much he hurt, all he could do was play the music and allow the sounds to voice his inner soul. He was just as damaged as me and I never really knew it.