The sun begins to seep in through the windows, its warmth mingling with the heat of Damien's skin on mine. The combination of everything pulls me awake. Damien's arms are wrapped around me, and I feel his defined abs and muscular arms pressed against my skin. The soft rays of morning light create a gentle glow, highlighting the contours of his body and casting a golden hue over us. His steady breathing and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest bring a sense of calm and safety. I lay there, savoring the moment, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and contentment in his embrace.

"Good morning," I say, breaking the silence. Damien loosens his hold on me and shifts his focus to my face as I sit up. His eyes meet mine, and a soft smile spreads across his lips, adding a warm and tender note to the start of our day.

"Morning. Did you sleep well, love?" Damien asks, his voice gentle.

"Yeah, actually," I reply, feeling the remnants of sleep slipping away.

"Good," Damien says, then gently kisses my forehead. "I'll go make breakfast," he continues, his lips lingering for a moment before he gets up and heads toward the kitchen.

I watch as Damien stands in nothing but his boxers, admiring his defined physique. I will never be disappointed looking at him. The outline of his dick in his white boxers makes me smile. Damien begins to walk to the kitchen, and I stand up, wrapping the blanket around me, still in my own boxers. I pull out one of the counter seats and sit, the memories of the night before flashing through my mind.

Damien seems so giddy this morning. The way he moves makes me smile; he has such a "Golden Retriever" energy about him at times. I like that side of him. It's so soft, so innocent, so human. Damien turns around and catches me watching him intently. He smiles at me, giving me a knowing look.

"What?" Damien questioned, turning towards me.

"I'm just admiring my view right now," I replied with a grin.

"God, you are just so horny, aren't you?" Damien teased, a playful smirk on his face.

I wait quietly as Damien heads to the kitchen. My thoughts drift into a blank stare at the doorway, the silence that follows echoing the absence of Damien's presence. It reminds me how, without him, I feel alone. Before Damien, Olivia was my only friend, and knowing she's scared now, I can't help but feel frustrated. I refuse to accept the fear The Eye instills in her. What's right in this world—being able to freely be with and choose who you want—is worth fighting for, even dying for. I would risk my life for Olivia or Damien; The Eye's intimidation tactics against her only reinforce my resolve.

I've always been someone who needs companionship. I fear where my mind might wander if left alone or idle for too long. I think back to freshman year, when I came out to my friend Miles and Olivia simultaneously. That day, Miles gathered a few guys from his basketball team. They ambushed me in the hallway as I walked to my last class, thinking it was a harmless prank. Miles grabbed me, pinning me against the wall, pressing my head hard into the brick. His voice was seething with anger and disgust.

"How many times have I stayed over at your house and you touched me in my sleep, you freak," Miles had said, his voice filled with accusation and disgust.

"None, Miles, what the hell? I'm still me."

"No, you aren't, freak."

Miles then grabbed a thick textbook from one of his friends, a hardcover with hundreds of pages. He slammed it across my face as hard as he could, knocking me unconscious. I woke up in the school nurse's office with my Dad standing over me. Everyone knew I was gay now—Miles had outed me. My dad pulled me out of school, and I spiraled into depression and anxiety. I attempted suicide by cutting my wrists, but the scars faded unusually fast, disappearing completely within a few weeks. I didn't know I was a tri-breed then; I assumed I just healed quickly. As I try to push away these memories, rage consumes me. I wish I had this power back then—I would've ended them in an instant.

I think the reason I can't stand being alone anymore is because I'm afraid I'm unworthy of love or friends. I've been getting better, but sometimes I still feel like that scared kid, voiceless and powerless, someone anyone could trample on.

After clearing my mind of thoughts and memories, I head to the kitchen and before taking a seat, I check the chair to make sure it's clean after last night's activities. Damien then pulls out his phone and plays "Ice Cream Man" by Tyga, starting to twerk as he cooks, fully aware that I'm watching his body intently. I chuckle as he attempts to dance like the younger crowd. It's amusing and entertaining to see Damien try to shake it, given his muscular build, which makes his attempts look more comical than anything else.

"Do you like it?" Damien asks, glancing back at me with a playful grin while he grabs his own ass with one hand.

"It's definitely entertaining," I reply with a smirk.

"Whatever, you know you like it. I bet you're as hard as you were last night right now," Damien teases, looking back at me mischievously.

I open my mouth in shock at how wild Damien is being. I feel warmth spreading across my cheeks, knowing I'm blushing furiously. It's like he can read my mind sometimes, always knowing how to lift my spirits when I'm feeling down. Damien continues cooking—I think it's pancakes or waffles, though I wasn't paying much attention to what he bought at the store yesterday. I was too distracted by the sex toys to notice anything else.

We still need to do more shopping; I want curtains for our bedroom to keep out the sun and other necessities. Damien had no shame in making love to me in the open, but it's not something I want to make a habit of. Although, if Damien made a move now, I'm not sure I could resist. Maybe I'd be open to it; I haven't had enough experience to decide. Perhaps that could be my payback to Damien later—I could take him out to a restaurant and get handsy with him. I've seen this trend online where you send a nude to your partner via text in public places, and the reactions are hilarious. Maybe teasing him like that would be my payback.

"Hey, Damien?"

"Yes, love?"

"I want to do a few things in town. I want to find a combat trainer and take care of a few other errands," I say.

"Okay, yeah. I need to get more food for the house, so maybe we can split up and meet back here in a few hours?" Damien suggests.

"Sure, here, let me send you my location just in case," I say, pulling out my phone and sharing my location with Damien.

"Here, before you go, make sure you eat," Damien says, setting down a plate of pancakes covered in syrup.

No matter how hard I try, I can never seem to eat pancakes cleanly; I end up making a mess. After taking a few bites, I feel the sticky syrup around my mouth, making me feel unclean and in need of a napkin.

"Damien, can I get a napkin?"

"We don't have any, sorry love," he replies.

I looked down, annoyed with myself for being so messy. Damien glanced over at me and smiled. I watched as he stood up from the seat next to me, dropping his white boxers and revealing his soft cock. I wanted to touch him again, but I knew I had to get going soon. Gazing intently at Damien's cock, he caught my stare and gently tilted my chin up, smiling at me. Damien pinched his boxers into a point and then spat on them. His eyes, filled with admiration, locked onto mine as he used his boxers to wipe the syrup from around my mouth. Staring into Damien's dark eyes — which should have been intimidating, but to me, they were just deep pools of blackness — I saw the love behind them. Damien's soft hand gently gripped my cheek as he pulled me in for a kiss. I felt his tongue against mine, and I began to feel aroused by the sensation of having Damien's nude body displayed in front of me.

"You drive me insane; I just can't resist you," Damien murmured after pulling away from my lips.

"I have to get going soon, Damien," I replied, trying to resist his tempting offer.

"I can be quick. Let me touch you," he insisted, his voice filled with desire.

"I really can't, Damien. I have a lot of places to stop tonight," I insist.

"Ugh, fine. Just let me kiss you again," Damien groans in reply.

I lean in, meeting Damien halfway for another kiss. His hand slides up my leg, a gentle touch that sends a wave of lust through me, causing my arousal to grow.

"Damien, now I'm hard. You might as well so I don't go out with a boner," I tease.

Damien chuckles. "I win, huh?"

I shoot Damien a glare. Damien continues kissing me as I sit in the chair. His hand moves up my leg, sliding into the leg hole of my boxers. He reaches in and strokes my cock with a tight grip. I begin to moan, and Damien opens his mouth, letting out small moans with me, even though he's the one pleasuring me. I enjoy it when he does that; it sends waves of pleasure over me to hear him moan while pleasuring me. Damien pulls the tip of my cock out through the leg hole of my boxers. I watch as Damien grabs the syrup from the counter.

I watch with curiosity as he grabs the syrup from the counter and pours it onto the tip of my cock. The sticky liquid slowly rolls down, dripping onto the chair, creating a peculiar sensation. Damien puts his face between my legs, and I feel the warm, wet touch of his tongue on my skin. I begin to moan as he sucks off the syrup, the unfamiliar yet pleasurable sensation overwhelming me.

As Damien continues to work his mouth along the side of my cock, the friction from the sticky wetness leaves me yearning for more. I grasp the back of his head and thrust into his mouth, each movement accompanied by a moan. Damien maintains his position, leaving his mouth open just enough to pleasure me without resistance. His gentle scraping of teeth along my shaft adds to the sensation, intensifying my pleasure without pain.

I feel the defined tip of my cock brushing against Damien's teeth, while veins press against the sides of his mouth. As my arousal peaks, warm fluid begins to rise within me. I thrust forward, and Damien's mouth envelops my entire length. Gripping Damien's shoulder tightly, I let out a moan as I release, filling his mouth with my cum.

Damien takes it all in, but the mix of syrup, cum, and my cock causes him to gag slightly, overwhelmed by the sensation. Waves of chills and euphoria wash over me, leaving me in a relaxed and satisfied state of mind.

I watch as Damien swallows my cum, some of it dripping down his face. His eager movements pull me up to my feet, where he drops my boxers and wipes away the remnants of my soft cock. He tosses the now slimy boxers across the floor, pinching my ass as he pulls me close and kisses me passionately on the lips, his touch warm and inviting.

"Okay, get going. I'll have you help me out later," Damien says with a flirty look, gently separating our bodies and lips.

I walk toward the shower, feeling Damien's gaze follow me as I turn the corner and enter the bathroom. The syrup had left a lingering sensation that made a shower a necessity. Leaning into the shower, I wait for the water to warm, still nude from earlier. As I make my way to our room, Damien is already there, focused on something he's writing. He smiles when he sees me enter, his naked form a rare sight in its natural state. Usually so lively and energetic around me, now he appears calm, peaceful, and intensely focused.

His focused demeanor, perhaps, explains why he's had so few partners in his life—he seems content to work and stay within his circle, a trait I find comforting and endearing. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I leave the room and return to the still-running shower. It occurs to me that Damien and I will be out separately later, but I'm already plotting to convince him to take me out to dinner—a playful payback for his earlier antics with the cock ring at the grocery store.

Standing nude in front of the bathroom mirror, I position myself with my backside facing the mirror. Looking back over my shoulder with a sensual expression, biting my lip, I snap a picture and save it, knowing it will come in handy for my scheme. Setting the mood, I play "Nights With You" by MO on my phone. It's a happy summer tune that fits the vibe perfectly. I don't sing in public, but in the shower or in the car, it's a different story altogether.

I step into the shower, singing along to the song as warm water cascades over me. Washing my hair, I feel the comforting sensation of the water running down my body. A sense of happiness fills me—I have my own condo with my boyfriend. Maybe it's the release of sexual tension contributing to this feeling, but despite the challenges we faced getting here, life feels immensely better now. I never knew what I needed to be happy, and it turns out, this is it.

Life remains uncertain at times, which still scares me, but experiencing freedom and happiness after years confined within high walls and security feels liberating. I rinse off and step out of the shower, finding Damien leaning against the doorway as I exit. He watches me with a gaze filled with lust.

"What?" I question.

"You have a nice voice, and I like when you sing," Damien replies.

"Whatever, I'm not good by any means."

"You actually are though. Maybe consider music while you're out hobby hunting."

"Maybe, but I'm also looking into starting a company. I want to own a bookstore, and since we need income, I thought why not use some of the leftover money to start it."

"That's a good idea. I'd be happy to help and put in hours for you anytime."

"Thanks," I reply with an awkward pause. "Well, I'm going to get dressed now, Damien. I should get going; long day ahead."

I felt a sense of awkwardness. In that moment, I wanted to tell Damien about my desire to join the Fold. I don't seem to hide things from him very well, and although I plan to tell him eventually, right now I'm busy and focused on looking for commercial real estate. I worry he might not approve, but I believe in standing up for what I believe is right, and I think I could make a positive impact by joining the Fold.

Damien is incredibly protective, and sometimes I feel he still sees me as the boy who needed rescuing when Lucifer kidnapped me. I've grown a lot since then, gaining better control over my powers—though not complete control, I've come a long way. I love Damien and appreciate how he cares for me, but I think he underestimates me at times.

As I pondered my guilt over not telling Damien and lacking the confidence to share anything with him, I walked over to the duffle bag where I'd left my clothes, none of which I had bothered to hang up. Realizing I needed more options than just joggers and the same jeans, I resolved to do some clothes shopping soon, especially since I was about to embark on business-related tasks.

Thinking about what I should wear for business shopping, I envisioned an elegant white outfit that was feminine yet sophisticated. Standing in front of the mirror, I wished I had such an ensemble. Closing my eyes briefly, I suddenly felt a cool rush of air against my skin. Opening my eyes, I saw the outfit I had imagined materialize before me, down to every detail.

The outfit was stunning—a blend of elegance and boldness. It was predominantly pristine white, made from a luxurious, subtly shimmering fabric that draped and caught the light exquisitely. The design had a suiting aesthetic with feminine touches, creating a striking and distinctive look.

Feeling Damien's eyes on me, I turned around to find him leaning against the bedroom door frame, his expression filled with admiration and attraction as he watched me standing there in the newly conjured attire.

"Where did you get this?" Damien asks, eyeing my new outfit.

"Nowhere. I kind of just envisioned it, and it ended up on me," I explain.

"Impossible. You can't just create things out of thin air, unless you're a god."

"Damien, I don't know how I did it. I just did."

"Well, you look great regardless," he replies, his gaze lingering on me with admiration.

Damien approaches me, standing over me and gently touching the side of my face with his hand. He pulls me in for a kiss, and the sensation of Damien's lips on mine is both electrifying and soothing. It's a tender connection that feels like coming home after a long journey. I feel the softness of his lips, the slight pressure, and the lingering warmth they leave behind. There's a sweetness to the kiss, a subtle mix of passion and comfort that makes my heart race and then slow, settling into a calm, steady beat.

"I'll see you later, Damien. I should have left 15 minutes ago—I'm already late. Please don't make me any later," I say hurriedly.

"Fine I will see you later love."

Grabbing the keys to the Porsche, I head to the elevator and select the parking garage. Today, I decide to take one of the cars from my father's collection—I need to do some shopping and prefer not to lug everything around all day. The elevator's ding snaps me out of my impatient foot-tapping and staring at the closed doors. Damien watches as they slide shut behind me, and I pull out my phone. I look up the bookstore Damien and I had visited.

I'm considering buying out the owner. The ringing on the other end is loud and annoying, but it doesn't take long for someone to pick up.

"Hello, are you guys open today? Is the owner in?" I inquire.

"Hello, yes, I am the owner, and we are open," the familiar voice of the man who sold me the books responds.

"Great. I have some business offers I'd like to discuss with you. If you're not too busy, I'd like to stop by in a few minutes."

"Oh, wow. Okay, yeah, we're slow today. Go ahead and stop by; I'll be here."

"Great, thanks."

He hangs up before I can respond. The elevator doors open in the basement garage a few moments later. The smell of parking garages always bothers me—the hot, dry air and musty scent of trapped air. I navigate to the Porsche and find it covered in dust, having sat untouched for several days. It needs a wash, but I know my father will want the car back eventually when he gets out of prison. I'm surprised he hasn't passed away yet; someone or some guard must still be attending to him, ensuring he receives his shots. I wish I could have kept him locked away forever, unable to harm another soul for his own benefit.

However, my immediate concern is getting my own car before he demands the Porsche's return. First things first, though—I need to get to the bookstore. I plan to offer the owner one million dollars for it, leaving me with two million dollars to buy a car. I've also been considering purchasing a second home to rent out as an Airbnb, with the idea of making it a vacation spot for Damien and me during summers. I want to build a life with Damien. Even though I'm uncertain about my own aging, I want to cherish every moment with him, whether it's just one lifetime or more.

Suddenly, the bustling sounds of the city above me fell silent, and I sensed something ominous approaching.

"Oh, Theo, so much love and lust for Damien. It will never work out. You will never be together. Break up with him this week or face my wrath, and one of you will die," Lucifer's voice echoed in my mind.

"Lucifer, get out of my head! You have no right to control either of us," I retorted firmly.

"On the contrary, I not only own Damien's soul, but since you started using demon magic, I own your soul now too. Break up with him, or else," Lucifer threatened before the ambient sounds returned, and I was once again aware of my surroundings.

"Fuck off!" I yell into the empty parking garage, hoping Lucifer can hear me.

That asshole thinks he can control me. I'm going to warn Damien, but I won't break up with him. We've come too far for Lucifer to ruin our relationship now. If we survived my father's attempts to keep us apart, I have no doubt we can overcome Lucifer's efforts too.

Snapping out of my thoughts and my encounter with Lucifer, I settle into the driver's seat and start the car. I decide against turning on the radio, appreciating the value of silence in moments like these. I enjoy driving in silence when I'm excited about new ventures, letting my thoughts wander freely.

Being away from my dad, I finally feel like an adult. I can't wait to see what I can achieve on my own. It feels empowering to pursue something that isn't tied to crime, unlike my father's legacy. It's like rewriting wrongs and breaking a cycle.

As I pull out of the parking spot, a red Mustang speeds by behind me, narrowly missing my car. I notice that demons drive more recklessly than anyone else—they don't share mortal fears, and it shows in their behavior. It's intriguing to me that, despite being potentially immortal, I still live with many of the same fears as mortals. The concept of my immortality hasn't erased my fears entirely. I ponder how the fear of death varies depending on one's species or upbringing. It seems like both factors play a significant role in shaping how individuals perceive and react to mortality.

Exiting the garage, I'm momentarily blinded by the contrast between the dim interior and the harsh sunlight outside. I quickly make my way to the bookstore; fortunately, it's just down the road. I'm confident the owner will accept my offer—it's a combination of money and my negotiation skills that I'm banking on.

Spotting the bookstore on the right, I find a parallel parking spot. Luckily, there are no cars parked nearby, so I manage to park without issue. I'm terrible at parallel parking and would have struggled for fifteen minutes or more if there had been other cars around.

Stepping out of the car, I'm greeted by the warm city breeze and the constant sounds of traffic and sirens. It's strange to hear these noises constantly, but it's a welcome change from the eerie silence of my dad's house, where the creaking pipes used to terrify me.

The outfit I conjured gives me confidence—it's not my usual style, but it makes me feel empowered. I straighten my posture and stride confidently inside. The owner, with his vintage yet youthful appearance, looks up from the counter where he was immersed in reading—something I look forward to doing as a bookstore owner myself.

"Hello, you must be the gentleman who called earlier," he says.

"Yes, I was in here yesterday and loved the place," I reply.

"I'm glad to have made such an impression, Theo."

"You know me?" I question, surprised.

"Dont take this the wrong way, Theo, but everyone knows you. Your face has been on the news for the past month."

I nod in reply, unsure of what to think about that. "So, what is your name?"

"My name is Forest, just like the trees."

"Nice to officially meet you." I walk over to the counter and shake his hand, which I hadn't noticed was covered by a leather glove. His grip was rough.

I always feel uneasy around people who wear leather gloves; it's a common trait among mob bosses or killers. It reminds me of the type of people my father associates with. This guy gives me an unsettling feeling that I didn't sense the day before—there's a darkness about him, an off-putting vibe that suggests danger.

"So, Theo, what business would you like to discuss?" Forest inquires.

"I'll get straight to the point. I want to buy this shop. I love books and would relish running this place. I'm willing to offer 1 million," I assert.

"That's a very generous offer, Theo. I must admit, though, I was expecting you to inquire about investing or a job, which I'd be open to. However, I won't sell. This place has been a significant part of my life and who I am for a long time," Forest responds firmly.

"What if I upped my offer to 1.5 million?"

"I would say you're crazy. Let me be upfront with you, Theo. This may look like a bookstore, but I also run a side business. I'm a supplier of angel blood and happen to work for your father. I informed him you were in town yesterday, and he's very upset with you. You should return home so you two can sort things out when he gets out of jail," Forest reveals bluntly.

I narrow my eyes at him, realizing I should have suspected something. He always had that vibe, and I sensed he was off even yesterday.

I lean in across the counter, meeting Forest at eye level. Grabbing his wrist, I see shock register in his widened eyes as the tension escalates in our conversation.

"You'll sell to me willingly," I assert firmly, "or I'll force your hand to sell at a much lower price. As for my father, the next time I see him, I will execute him myself. So, today, you get to choose your fate, which is a choice I wouldn't normally grant."

Forest starts to laugh. "You, a diluted blood bastard, think you can force my hand?"

"Allow me to show you then." I reply.

The white flames I had summoned the day before warmed my hand as I gripped his wrist, burning him. Forest screamed in agony, falling out of his chair, but I maintained my hold.

"Stop!" he shrieked, writhing in pain as the burning continued.

I released his wrist and waited for him to compose himself. Forest stood up slowly, adjusting his jacket and shirt, his expression now composed despite his ordeal.

"So, will you accept my offer, or do you need further persuasion?" I asked calmly.

"I would rather die," Forest replied defiantly.

"Alright," I replied, unfazed.

My eyes burned with power, a surge rushing through me. I seized Forest by the neck from behind his counter.

"You will sell to me for 1 million. Your lawyer will transfer ownership to me. Then, you will leave town in your car. Find a cliff, drive off it with yourself inside. Understand?" I demanded, my voice echoing with a demonic undertone.

Forest's eyes went empty, emotionless, like a puppet under my control. "Yes, I will do that," he replied in a monotone voice.

He reaches over to the phone and calls his lawyer to meet us here.

Forest sits silently and patiently. I was able to control him. I didn't think such power existed beyond small ways, but bending his will so easily made me feel unstoppable. Having this power felt surprisingly good. It should be shameful, but to me, it feels right. Sometimes power changes me, and in those moments, I say and do things I normally wouldn't. I sentenced this man to his death afterward. The worst part is, I don't feel remorse for it.

After a period of silence, a man in a traditional black suit enters the room. I knew he had to be Forest's lawyer.

"Hello, I'm here to have you sign the ownership papers. Theo, I will start with you since I also need your banking information for the wire transfer of funds for the sale of the company."

I hand him my phone with my banking information attached.

"Once Forest signs, you will be the owner of Chapter & Verse, including all trademarks, business assets, and any associated debt. If the funds fail to transfer correctly and are rejected within 24 hours of the withdrawal attempt, you will forfeit any claim to Chapter & Verse, and legal action may be pursued against you. I will send any necessary documents to you later today. Do you understand, or do you have any questions?"

"Yes, and no questions."

"Okay, sign here, Theo."

He handed me a royal blue stone pen, a clear symbol of his prosperity as a business lawyer, along with his Rolex. I signed my name on the line and swiftly passed the paper back.

"Okay forest now you sign."

I watch Forest as he struggles, noticing my grip on his mind slipping as the pen shakes in his hand above the legal document. Needing more control, I stand up and rest my hand on Forest's shoulder, strengthening my connection to his mind.

To avoid raising suspicion, I reassure him, "It's okay, Forest. The bookstore is in good hands."

Forest signs the document and passes it back to the lawyer, who takes it without a word, places it in a folder, and exits the store. I gaze down at Forest, concerned that my mental connection with him has faltered. He appears confused and lost, as if unaware of what just occurred.

"Theo, what the hell did you just do?" Forest questions sharply.

"What you refused to do."

"You asshole, I'm telling the lawyer to stop right now."

As Forest reaches for the phone, I swiftly grab his neck, pulling him out of his chair.

"Damn shame you won't cooperate with me," I say.

Rage and fear churn within me, unsure of what he might say or do if I release him. I watch as my veins glow bright red, like lava cracking through the earth. The crimson light travels up my arm, still clutching Forest by the neck. Redness consumes him, and smoke begins to rise from his skin. Soon, he bursts into flames, screaming in agony. Eventually, the screams fade, leaving only the sound of crackling fire as he reduces to a small pile of ashes by the counter.

I grab the keys to the shop, which were sitting on the counter all this time. Locking the shop behind me, I head to the car parked just outside.

I ponder how dark that was. Perhaps I should have handled it differently, but I'm uncertain what other options I had. He was about to run to the authorities, and while he might not have been as evil as my father, maybe he didn't deserve death. Yet, I gave him a choice, and he made his decision. I possess power over beings like him, and they can decide their own fate. That demon has likely lived longer than I can imagine. I struggle to justify my actions and decide to push those thoughts aside. The shop is mine now, and nothing can change that.

Afterward, I decide that clothes shopping would help clear my mind and lift my spirits. I usually dislike shopping, but shopping for clothes makes me feel confident and upbeat. I leave the parking lot feeling anxious, as if I might get in trouble for what I've done, though I doubt anyone witnessed it.

I make my way to a Gap, my hands resting lightly on the steering wheel. The traffic is moderate, with cars moving in an orderly fashion, their tires creating a gentle, consistent hiss against the asphalt. Traffic lights flicker from green to yellow to red, guiding the flow of vehicles through the intersections. As I pull into the small parking lot, I notice people giving me looks as I step out of the car—I definitely stand out in my outfit, but I can't blame anyone for that.

Entering the store, I'm greeted by vibrant summer colors, some so bold I dare not try them on. The music, all remixes or covers of pop songs, becomes annoying after a while. I pick out a few shorts and casual summer shirts, opting to skip the fitting room and plan to either donate or return anything that doesn't fit. I manage to assemble four different coordinated outfits that I think will suit me well.

At the checkout, a young woman scans everything and tries to engage me in small talk. I nod along politely, not really caring for random conversation with strangers.

"Do you want to sign up for a Gap credit card for 20% off?" the cashier asks.

"Uhh, no thanks. I think I'm good—I have enough to buy this place," I reply sharply. She nods in silence.

I reach a point where I need her to stop talking, and the sharp tone seems to do the trick. I place my card on the reader, she hands me the bag of clothes, and I swiftly exit. Getting into the Porsche, I place the bag of clothes on the passenger seat. Today, I decide I want to check on Damien; it's the first day in a while I haven't seen him much.

I text Damien, "Hey, want to have dinner out tonight? Know any spots?"

Damien replies with a link to a place and then texts, "6pm?"

I check the time and realize it's already 3pm; I've been out way longer than I thought. "Yeah, that works. Also, remember that bookstore from yesterday? Well, we now own that too. I'll tell you about it tonight," I reply.

"Oh wow, congrats! Can't wait to see your cute ass all day when we work together," Damien responds.

"HR won't like this," I joke back.

Damien replies with a laughing emoji.

I still have a few stops to make, so I pull out of the driveway. I search and find a self-defense trainer with a studio about a mile away from the condo. I make my way in, greeted by the strong smell of sweat and the sound of intense training in the back.

I approach the desk where a buff clerk towers over me, surrounded by others who all seem twice my size, making me feel a tad self-conscious.

"Hey, I'm here to see if I could sign up," I say.

"Yeah, anyone can join. It's $80 a month, and you can cancel anytime, which is a plus," he replies.

"Perfect."

He hands me a form to fill out with all my information, which I complete and pass back. After tapping my card, he hands me a keycard that opens the door to the main training area.

"Thanks. I'll probably stop by tomorrow," I say as I turn to leave.

He nods, and I exit. It was a rather quick interaction, but it reminds me how much I need to catch up on and how much more trained and fit these people are compared to me.

I had planned to buy a car today, but now I feel too burned out, and there isn't enough time left in the day for it. I'm thinking about getting a Corvette, but I'll decide when the time comes. I get into the car and check my phone, seeing the usual missed call from Olivia. I'm really not in the mood to talk to her yet; I need more time to assess everything. Given our differences, I know I wouldn't have acted the way she did. If I were in that situation, I could have handled it differently. For now, Olivia can wait a bit longer for us to discuss our friendship.

I still have a few hours before I need to meet Damien for dinner. He's probably still out shopping for the condo, so I'll likely head back home for the rest of the time

Switch to Damien POV:

I saw Theo's car parked at the bookstore we visited yesterday. Peering through the window from across the street, I sensed something was off with Theo and felt compelled to check on him, ensuring he wasn't getting himself into trouble.

I witnessed him kill the man who appeared to be the store's owner. Theo's power is growing, and he dispatches with ease unlike any entity I've encountered. It frightens me, though I hide my fear well. Tonight, he promised to explain everything, unaware that I saw what happened. I believe Theo acts in self-defense, but this seemed more like a deliberate murder than a defensive action. Despite his abilities, I know Theo is inherently good, but his evolving power is something I struggle to comprehend. It was as if I were watching a god casually decide who lives and dies.

Deciding not to interfere at that moment, I continued with my shopping, my thoughts still lingering on Theo and what had transpired. We needed essentials like laundry detergent and more towels, especially considering the messes we tended to make when together.

I stumbled upon a rundown shopping center that seemed like a cross between Walmart and Target. The store was worn down, with dim lighting and an aging building.

Navigating through, I eventually reached the flower section. I wondered if Theo liked flowers—he probably did, but deciding which ones to choose was the challenge. After standing there looking lost, an employee must have noticed me.

"Need help?" the employee asks.

"Yeah, actually. I don't know what kind of flowers my boyfriend likes," I admit.

"Hmm, what colors does he like?" the employee inquires.

"Well, he wears a lot of neutral colors, but I think he likes red. His old room was all red," I explain.

"Here are some classic red roses then. If you really want to make him swoon, ask him for next time," the employee suggests with a smile.

"Thanks," I reply, taking the roses and pondering over the employee's advice. It makes me realize how little I know about Theo. We've been caught up in so much drama from the start that we rarely talk about simple things like flowers. To be fair, it's not entirely my fault for being unaware, but I should start asking more of these basic questions.

After paying, I struggle to carry everything back to the condo. The bags are piled up to my elbows, filled with household items. Walking through the lobby and into the elevator feels like a marathon, but I sense a productive day behind me.

Finally reaching our floor, I unload the bags onto the counter. I look around for Theo, sensing his presence but not seeing him immediately. Entering our room, I find him sitting on the floor, staring blankly at the wall without acknowledging my arrival. His expression sends a chill down my spine.

"Theo? What's going on?" I ask cautiously.

"I'm turning into him, aren't I?" he responds quietly.

"Who?" I press gently.

"My father. I killed someone today," he confesses.

"I know. I saw," I reply softly.

Authors Note: 

Okay so quite a few things to cover here so I am sorry for the delay on getting this chapter up I have hardly been in a writing mood and I try not to force it for quality purposes. I was going to have this chapter be a hell of a lot longer but I wanted to leave it here because I didn't wanna over do some of the themes in this chapter I also think this is a good way to build up for events in a soon to come chapter. Also the smut scene in this shocked me as much as it shocked you because I'm not gunna lie I took an edible and don't remember writing it lmao and reading it back had my jaw on the floor. Anyways hope you enjoyed also here is the outfit Theo conjured out of thin air. Also the book store Theo now owns. Ahh the power of AI to help envision everything.