Chapter Fifty Six
DAISY’S POV
It wasn’t the same.
When Daemon made love to me, when he bit me, all I felt was pleasure. Maybe I didn’t realize it at the beginning, but he had become like an addictive drug, the more I got, the more I wanted. I thought it had just been the bites, and so I had tried getting that from Riley, but it wasn’t the same.
The Luna knew where he was. Why wouldn’t she tell me?
Each day, it got worse.
I scrolled through my notebook; he occupied every single page.
I had drawn him about a hundred times, and yet, I picked up a pen, ready to make another image. This was the only way I could keep myself from losing my mind thinking about him.
Twenty minutes later, I was done with a perfect drawing of him. In this drawing he was shirtless, those locks of shiny black hair fell over his eyes. Damn, was he sexy.
“Hello, Daisy,” the voice called.
For a moment, I had thought it was all in my mind. It sounded so real. Slowly I turned, and there he stood, yet I couldn’t be sure, this could just be my mind playing wicked tricks on me.
“Daemon,” I called, tears rolling down my eyes.
“Yes, Daisy,” he answered with a smile on his face. I walked towards him, and I hugged him, sobbing in his arms. He waited for the whole thirty minutes I spent crying.
“I thought you were dead.”
“I am very much alive.”
This was real. Daemon was here, dressed in a dashing black tuxedo and sleek black shades.
“What happened? You left me all alone, and I was worried sick.”
“I had a bit of an… accident.”
“But everything is okay, because you are back now.” I said to him but he gave no response to that; he finally pulled me away from me only to pick up my notebook, where I had drawn him multiple times. “I really thought I could save you, but you really can’t be safe, can you?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He placed the notebook back on the table, before taking off his shades, only then did I notice the cut below his eyes.
“You are injured.”
“It will heal.”
“Who did this?” I questioned.
© +25 BORALIS
“You don’t look any better either,” he noted, and I clumsily ran my hand through my hair in an attempt to straighten it; I was well aware that I looked like crap
“I’m sorry.”
“Do you know what you need?”
“What do I need?”
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