Serena Mclane's P. O. V Lying face down on the bed, I can't help but to let out a low agonizing groan. It took me absolutely ages to get all my various stuff out of the boxes and then arrange them where I deemed fit. I even considered leaving it and doing it bit by bit but then I knew I'd be having this nagging voice in the corner of my mind goading me at every chance. I guess I have weird traits like that. Luckily though, I manage to do it just in time. As I lie there, my mind starts to wander off to different places and situations. What if my father had decided to marry me off to someone else? Someone not as understanding as Damien? I shudder just thinking of it. A few moments go by and then a soft knocking erupts on the door. Glancing up from my bed, my hair disheveled and my face red from the exertion of having to move things about, I see Damien standing in the doorway. If it is possible for Damien to show any sort of emotion, I'd say he looks rather uncomfortable. I raise an eyebrow as he stands there, not saying anything. "Yes?" I goad. "What would you like for dinner?" He asks tersely. "Whatever's easiest." I shrug, fixing my slightly rolled up shirt. "That would be?" He pries. Judging from his slightly uncomfortable stance, I get up from the bed and pass him as I make my way downstairs. Entering into the kitchen, I look at the time to see it's nearing nine. Wow, I wasn't unpacking as long as I had expected. Approaching footsteps reach my ears and I smile as I know he's following me. Scanning the stainless steel kitchen, my eyes land on the refrigerator as I make my way toward it. Opening it, I scan all the ingredients. "You don't cook much do you?" I ask as I lean in to grab ingredients for the dish I'm making. Piling everything into my hands, I turn to see him standing idly near the kitchen island. Seeing my arms full, he rushes towards me and lessens my load. "I don't." He answers stoically as he places them onto the counter; Looking at them as if they're some sort of foreign abomination. Laughing at him, I nudge Damien out of the way and grab a knife to begin preparing everything. "I guess we're fitting into our roles very well aren't we?" I say as I motion for him to sit down. I'm not sure if he actually listens to me but I do hear his voice a little farther away. "What do you mean?" "Well as sexist and preposterously contemptuous as it may be, here I am cooking for you," I take a pause as I let sarcasm lace my voice, "My soon to be husband. The only thing missing is you coming home from work and asking what's for dinner." Saying it just the way I have, makes me feel immensely uncomfortable. Not by what I'm implying but merely by the picture I've painted in my mind. It all seems so vividly realistic. Hopefully though, that situation will never arise. Not between us, I hope. I dare not look behind me, afraid of what Damien's reaction might be. The only sound in the kitchen is the chopping of my knife at work. "That could be a tradition in the making." My entire body freezes at the playful jab coming from him. I quickly glance over my shoulder to actually see if it truly is Damien sitting there or if he's been replaced by some other man. Low and behold, there Damien sits as straight faced as ever though I can see a hint of amusement playing in his eyes. I'm not even sure if I'm just imagining it. I revert my gaze, biting my lip to stop from smiling though I know he can't see from here. "I wouldn't be counting on it anytime soon." I find myself saying, playing along. By the time I've cooked and served the food, its pretty late but none of us complain. "What do we do now? Regarding the whole you teaching me stuff about the business." I ask, in between mouthfuls of food. I know my days from now one will be incredibly busy and tiring but it is what it is. "Tomorrow, you have to be up early and we will need to settle a few things but that should be all. From Monday you will come and start to work with me at the office." He says as he stands to get more food from the pan. I can't help but to feel pleased that even if my cooking isn't all that good, at least it's edible. "Understood." Is all I say as I continue to eat. ------------ Going to bed late when I have to wake up early in the morning is a habit I have never learnt from. It's sort of like when you're drinking but you know it's gonna come to bite you in the ass later on when you wake up the next day. For myself in particular this 'waking up early' is difficult since I always seem to have a personal attachment with my bed. One where I can never seem to leave it. I groan once more as my alarm starts going off again. This time however, I know I can't hit snooze again or else I'll be incredibly late. And I can't do that to Damien. After using the bathroom for showering and all that, my mind pauses as I seemingly have a new dilemma. What do I wear? My heart wants to go to my usual casual attire of skinny jeans and a normal shirt but I know I can't wear that. Something formal? Or semi formal? My eyes dart from dresses to skirts to dress pants. I don't even know where we're going. What if I dress up to fancy and then everyone looks at me weird? Or I dress up way to casual and the same exact situation occurs. Before I know it, I'm reaching for a pale blue dress and a pair of flats. That doesn't seem too formal nor too casual. By the time I make it downstairs, Damien's standing at the door waiting for me. "Morning." I chirp happily earning only a nod in return. So I guess last nights playful banter is a one time thing. "You ready to go?" Damien asks as I turn in the opposite direction from him, towards the kitchen. "In a minute." I call out, my voice coming out weirdly echoey due to my upper half in the fridge. Grabbing some sort fruit flavored yoghurt, I take a seat at the counter just as Damien enters. "We'll be late." "Will you let me eat in the car?" I ask. Damien's answer is instantaneous. "No." Ah, boys and their toys. "Exactly." I say in triumph, still eating. I can sense Damien's unvoiced annoyance all the way from here and to put him out of his misery I finish quickly. Throwing the carton in the dustbin and spoon in the sink, I walk past him to the front door, patting him on the shoulder as I do so. "You only had to wait a while." I say to him as I sit in his car, thanking Damien as he opens the door for me. He doesn't answer and it makes me want to laugh. "Where are we going?" I ask once he starts driving. "My office." He says simply. "I thought we were going there tomorrow." I state. "Change of plans." At least I had the sense to wear proper clothing attire. The drive is much shorter than that compared to yesterday's and in half an hour we're already there. Damien swerves into the V. I. P parking lot and immediately a person comes out, opening his car door. Damien nods at him and then comes over to my side of the car. I wonder what he'll do if I open the car door myself. I am quite capable of doing so. I glance at the building, my eyes raking over the daunting skyscraper. I can't see much, however, due to the glare coming from all of the windows. It resembles my fathers building in much that way. Entering into the revolving doors of the building. The vast interior gleams and shine with the numerous lights from the chandelier as well as from the pristine marble flooring. As we enter into the main foyer of the building, all eyes dart to us. I gulp under the pressure of everyone's eyes and inconspicuously take a step closer to Damien. However Damien notices that I do so and places his hand on the small of my back, leading me to the elevators. Just as we step into the lifts, a tall lanky looking man enters with papers stuffed in his face as he scans over them, glasses perched on the end of his nose. The man's brown eyes dart to me and then Damien. "Mr. Stryker. I have your reports that you needed and also a contract regarding that merger agreement." He rushes out as he shoves various papers and files into Damien's free hand. My eyes widen as the man hurriedly shoves them out of Damien's hand within the same split second and holds them once more. "I'll place them on your desk Sir, no worries." He mutters as he goes red in the face. Amusement crosses my features as I take in the man's nervousness. Finally we reach the floor we need to be on and the man practically runs out of the elevator. 'Who's that?" I whisper to Damien as my eyes follow the man. "My assistant." He says, jaw clenched as he looks at me. "You okay?" I ask, confused now. "Fine." He answers tersely and marches ahead of me, entering into the open door of his office.While I stand there stare after him in bewilderment.