Serena Mclane's P. O. V Sniffling to myself, I try to look around for something to dry my tears and wipe my nose with but of course come up empty. Why can't I ever do anything right? That thought alone brings about a new wave of tears that I once again fail to hold back. Every single mistake I've committed seems to be coming back to me and haunting me full force. I slide the back of my hand against my eyes but there's no point as fresh tears replace them. I glance down at my hand only to feel mortified at the huge black smudge going across it. Damn it. Now my makeups ruined too. I clear my throat and try my best to calm down. Think of good things. Amusing things. Deep breaths. My constant words of hopeless advice surprisingly helps and I manage to keep in the waterfall of tears my eyes seem to contain. "Ugh." I groan aloud at the thought that a few minutes from now, I'll have to come up with a good plan where I can ninja myself out of the garden and to my old room so that I can clean myself up. It seems next to impossible with all the people loitering about. I sniffle one last time and stand up, deciding to get this over and down with. Head down and walk fast. Before I even stand up properly, fast footsteps coming towards where I am, makes me come to a halt. I hope it isn't my father. I quickly spin around, giving the person my back as I slowly try to clear my throat. Hopefully they won't be able to tell I'm crying. Well if they see my face then I'm a goner. The crunching of dead uncleared leaves makes me realize that they're approaching fast. "Serena." Hearing his voice makes me sigh in both relief and despair. He could either care or not give a damn. I'm not sure which one is worse. "Serena." Damien calls out again. I cough and answer him without turning around. "Damien?" I can hear an annoyed grunt come from him at my lack of inquiry, "What are you doing here?" He asks as he takes another step closer, suspicion coating his voice. I pause, stiffening up. "Enjoying the view as well as the peace and quite." It is half true at least. "Serena. Turn around." He says stiffly. "Why?" I cringe when my voice breaks in the middle. A warm hand lands on my shoulder and tugs me in their direction. I turn but don't let my face enter his line of sight. Before he can ask me anything, I suddenly blurt out. "Dad knows about the file and he wants it back." This will definitely take his mind off it. "I know." Damien answers, shrugging, "that doesn't explain why you have been crying." He murmurs ever so softly I think I've imagined it. "What are you ta-" Damien makes me stop as he tilts my head up. I try to force my head down but he's much stronger and manages to tilt my face up till he can properly see me. "Why?" He asks gruffly. I clear my throat and step back, away from his weirdly comforting hold. "It's nothing. So what do we do about my father?" I try to desperately change subjects again. Once again Damien surprises me by shaking his head. "Who made you cry?" He asks firmly. "And if I tell you, are you going to go beat them up?" I ask rhetorically, snorting at the end. I really need to stop snorting. However Damien's unwavering expression makes my eyes widen. He can't be serious. "You can't beat anyone up." I say firmly, hoping it will sit in his brain. "That's for me to decide. Who?" I can tell he's not letting this go and so I sigh. "It's nothing," Damien gives me a cold withering stare at my lack of giving up knowledge and saying that one phrase over again. I know if I open my mouth, I'll start ranting like I usually do, disclosing more than I need to. Damien gives me a look, telling me to go ahead and so I start speaking, first hesitantly before blurting everything out; "It's just that my father came here. And I stupidly thought that he came here to find me. Not for some business venture but just to find me, you know? Does that make sense? I paint this fairytale picture that my father actually does care about me, feels for me as a father would a daughter. And not just stare at me and see piles of money that can help raise his business to new roads. I always stupidly hope and then get the same end results for my wishful thinking. And do you know what the worst thing is?" I ask, stopping to see if he's listening as I always do. Damien nods and motions for me to continue. I let out a chocked sob, "I always feel as if it's my fault. That I've been the bad daughter. That maybe my existence just screwed all my father's plans up. That no matter what I do. No matter how hard I try, I'll never live up to the expectations of my father. And what hurts the most is trying your hardest only to fail again and again. That doubt haunts me every day and every day, I end up disappointing him, resulting in me bashing myself for what I could have made better." I finish my sob story and can't believe that I've started the water works again. My heart clenches in my chest and I have to try my hardest not to get all worked up. Too late for that. I try to control it but a sob works it's way past my throat. "I'm sorry. You can leave. I'll be with you in a minute." I rush out as I turn my back towards him once again, unable to believe that I ran my mouth like that. Instead of turning me around, Damien steps towards me. Placing a hand on my shoulder, he tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. Tentatively, hesitantly, he lifts his hand to my face and rubs the pad of his thumb against my cheek. Damien glances at me and then my tears, almost as if he's trying to understand something. "Damien?" I croak, making him look up at me. "Yes?" He whispers. I press my lips together but then as a shiver passes down me, I manage to speak again. "Can I hug you? Please?" I nearly beg. Damien stays silent and then ever so slowly, with the same confused expression–almost akin to someone training a new puppy to actually shred their stack of homework to pieces– he pulls me towards him until I stand face to tear streaked face with him. I don't restrain myself, as I practically launch into his warm body, wrapping my arms around his torso and nuzzling into him. Inhaling his comforting cologne as if it were oxygen itself. Carefully slow, Damien wraps his arms around me, pulling me further into him and then much to my disbelief, laying his head down on mine. I can't help the sigh of content that leaves me as well as with the calming shivers wracking my body. A few minutes, we stay like that in silence until I push myself away. "Sorry about that." I mumble. Damien shakes his head, that bewildered expression still on his face. Another few seconds pass by with us just staring at each other, until he snaps out of his little trance. I expect him to go back to his cold, uncaring ways but instead he pulls a tissue out of his pant pocket and motions me closer. With the same delicate touch, he holds my face and tries his best to dab at my mascara and eyeliner smudged face. I stay perfectly still, knowing what a difficult feat clearing raccoon eyes actually is. Handing me the tissue, Damien assesses my face and then nods in approval. "I tried my best." Even now he's whispering, as if worried he'll disturb the forces of nature in the garden. I smile and thank him only for him to wrap an arm around my waist. This time his hold isn't harsh or dominating but it is firm and proprietorial. I look at him only to see him looking back but then he shakes his head and hurriedly pulls me towards the small gathering of people. As we approach the group, I notice my father standing amongst the people. Without warning, Damien pushes the left side of my face into his chest, obscuring me from view. "Mr. Mclane. I'm afraid Serena and I must be leaving. She isn't feeling well but I do hope to speak to you soon and I am positive we will be." Saying a quick goodbye to my father, he pulls me along, not even bothering to explain or let me say goodbye. By the time we reach the car, I'm a panting mess, "Why were you running away so fast?" I ask out of breath. "We needed to get out of there as soon as possible." "And why is that?" Please don't tell me he's stolen something else. "When I came to talk to you. It was to tell you that we had to leave." He answers vaguely. "But why?" I ask, eager to know. "You'll see soon enough," And with that we get into the car, driving off to who knows where.