**ROSEANA**
My brows frowned when I saw him smiling as if he had committed an evil deed.
"Why are you smiling?" I asked.
He just kept smiling. If only I didn't know, I would think he was going crazy. "We kissed," he replied with a smile. I can't help but raise my brow after hearing what he said.
"You are hallucinating." I shook my head. Is he that drunk to imagine things? I mean, I am not complaining that he was imagining us kissing. That just means he wants to kiss me, right? It's just that. Why does he have to imagine us kissing when he can just kiss me in person?
I want to hit my head on the table because of what I am thinking. It's Damon's fault. He corrupted my brain with his flirtatious acts.
"I am not," he said. He barely touched the cup of coffee.
"I drank from this cup, and you did the same," he added.
okay? What is the point?
"We kissed."
I took a deep breath. I don't know how I will react to what he says. Is he the Damon I knew?
"You are thinking so much, Damon. It was just a normal drink of coffee.”
My eyebrows met when I saw that the Grab car that I booked was here. I looked outside the store. Just then, a car parked. I help Damon walk. He could no longer walk straight and might suddenly fall.
Are wealthy people like this when they drink cheap alcohol? Is this the effect when you get used to drinking wine, rum, or whiskey that costs several thousand? Odd.
I was very thankful that Damon didn't make it difficult for me when we were in the car. I was worried that he would throw up in the car and make the driver angry. Fortunately, that didn't happen.
I sighed heavily as I impatiently waited for us to arrive at Damon's condo. "He wasn't being a headache, but he was like lint on me," I whispered to myself. I don't know which one is better, him behaving or him clinging to me like a leach, as if I will run away if he lets go of me. We were sitting in the backseat of the car. His arms were wrapped around my body as if he were afraid that I was planning to leave him there. His face is buried in my neck. I can even feel his wet lips and the tip of his nose touching my skin. Every time his lips pressed against my skin, I gasped violently.
I want to scold him. I feel like he did it on purpose, but when I look at his helpless case, it doesn't seem like it. I'm just overthinking, I guess. Damon could hardly walk properly because he was so drunk.
I couldn't contain my joy when the car finally stopped in front of Damon's condominium building. I almost beat the window to get out of that awkward position. I had been noticing the simple glances the driver was giving us during the ride. We are displaying so much affection, so I won't be surprised if he thinks differently about Damon and me.
"Good evening, ma'am. What happened to sir?" the guard greeted us. He already knew me, so he didn't ask for my ID. We didn't tell the employees of the condominium what our relationship was like, but because I lived in his condo for a few months, they just concluded that we had a relationship.
I took a deep breath. “Tsk. He got drunk on a few bottles of beer.” I answered with a frown. The guard laughed. He helped me support Damon until we got into the elevator.
I rolled my eyes when the drunk man slumped on the floor.
“Oh, look at you now. You're out of yourself because of the beer.” I wanted to tell him that. He dared to drink, but he couldn’t even hold himself. What will happen to him if I am not there? Will he just lie down on the floor until he becomes sober? God, Damon! What are you doing to yourself?
When the elevator rang, I supported him again. His arm was draped over my shoulder. I want to punch him because instead of walking straight, he chooses to zigzag. If I hadn't seen those bottles of beer he drank, I would have thought he was just pretending to be drunk and torturing me to get back at me for running away.
"Damon, can you please behave? You are heavy!” I said it very hard. My irritation flared up when instead of listening to what I said, the drunk man just laughed at me.
Seriously? Does he think his weight is funny? I feel like I lifted a sack of rice because almost all of his weight was on me.
"Damon, if my uterus falls because of your weight, I will punch you."
"Hmmm."
We went straight to the living room. I made him sit on the sofa. Why did I suddenly regret helping him? My body will hurt the next day.
While stretching, I looked around the entire condo. I was expecting to see a neat house. That's exactly what I expected from Damon. He is an organized person. He is a very clean freak because, apart from not wanting to get messy, he also has sinusitis, which often attacks him when the surroundings are dusty.
"What happened here?" I asked in surprise. The thick curtain was down, preventing even the slightest light from entering the interior. I bet even though it was noon and the sun was high, I was sure it would look like night because of the thick curtains. There are wine glasses on the round table and empty bottles of wine. My brows knitted in wonder. What happened here? There was also a box of pizza on the floor. When I lowered my eyes to my feet, my eyebrows creased even more. His shirt is on the floor, and I am stepping on it. I looked back at the man who was lying on the sofa.
"Damon, what are you doing at home while I'm gone? Since when did you become this lazy that you can’t even throw your clothes in the laundry bag?" I asked him, annoyed. The house was clean when I left, not like this. The indoor plant that I planted to give his living room a fresh vibe has withered. Surely, he didn't even care for it now that it was dead.
My blood boils at what I see. I got no answer from Damon. I don't know if he fell asleep or what.
I took a deep breath. "Yeah, right. Who else will clean up this man's mess but me? Thanks," I whispered to myself in sarcasm.
I picked up his scattered clothes on the floor. I put it on the rag. I also washed the wine glasses. Fortunately, none of them broke. It is so early in the morning, yet here I am, cleaning the house while the drunk Damon is lying on the sofa. I sweep the floor as well.
When I entered our room, I was relieved to see that the room was clean. I thought it was messy inside too. I went straight into the bathroom and put Damon's clothes scattered in the living room in the laundry basket.
I was looking around the room to check if it was clean when I froze in place. What is the meaning of this?
"Wife duties, huh?" Damon's cold voice sneered.
What? How did he get here?
"You..." I couldn't find a word to say.
"What, wife?" I heard the sound of the door being locked. My eyes flew to the doorknob that he was now holding after he locked it.
I turned pale when a smile formed on his face—a dangerous smile.
"You are so drunk that you passed out," I muttered. It is meant for me. Did I think wrong earlier? But he was too drunk. I am sure of it. He can't even walk on his own!
"Really?" he asked me mockingly. He took a step closer to me. I instinctively took a step back. His smirk widened.
My eyes widened as I pieced together the events. The empty bottles of beer, my colleague calling me to serve him even though she can handle it on her own, his drunkenness, all of it! All of it was a lie! "You fooled me!" I accused him. I even pointed my fingers at him. He made me believe that he was drunk so that I could be forced to take him home! This has been his plan all along to bring me home! He knew that he couldn't let me go home, so he made a cunning plan so that I would return without me knowing!