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Damon

Catherine came back with some clothes from one of his uncles as promised. She didn't barge into the bathroom, much to my regret.

And before you perverted folks could even think of something, well, perverted, I would like to point out that she missed a couple of items.

She forgot that I, like any other human being would like to provide comfort to uh...

Yeah.

I have nothing against going commando. Heck,I prefer going commando. But it was hardly ideal to wear nothing other than pants on somebody else' home.

Her uncles must really like me.

I mean come on.

Letting me deliver a cow. Providing me clothes.

Nice folks.

You've got to hand it to her uncle for owning a mint green polo shirt.

And letting me borrow that mint. green. polo shirt.

A soft knock came from the door as I was carefully zipping my pants.

"Are you dressed?"

Catherine stood at the partly opened door, half of her body ready to run just in case she saw me inappropriately dressed. Huh. If only she knew.

I took a deep breath before looking down. I told you I don't mind. But if she knew, it would be embarrassing for her. I swear the woman's too innocent for her own good.

I turned around and gave her a smile. Seeing no reason to panic,she opened the door wider and approached me,circling me as she inspected her relatives' choice of clothing.

"I know. I look great."

She stopped just behind me and gave me a pat on the back.

"Well Damon." she stood on her tip toes and placed her head on my shoulder, her nose almost touching the side of my neck. "you look divine."

I know she's smiling. And I was tempted to look back at her but turning around would be bringing my face closer to hers. I've been close enough before. Countless times.

Sometimes,I lay awake at night and remind myself why I was sent here.

For her.

Just to be there for her. Not with her.

We both have jobs and it would be stupid to follow her around. This isn't some sick story about a guy with nothing else to do than piss a girl off.

So I try to do the best I can when we're at home. Cook for her. All the gentle-manly ways my mother used to tell me on how to treat a woman. She never experienced it herself so she made me promise to do it when I get the chance.

And I was doing it for Catherine.

I gave up on stopping myself and turned my head to face her.

"And you smell goo-"

sh*t

She chose that time to come closer and sniff me. Sniff me. And I turned my head and-

she quickly stepped back, her hands covering her lips.

We just stared at each other. For Pete's sake we're adults. We've both done it before. We're not children.

"I-I'm sorry."

sh*t.

She lowered her hands and started touching her lips with her fingertips than looked at them. She lifted her gaze and she had this scared expression on her face.

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