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Damien smirked to himself as he watched the cast excitedly skip away to get into makeup 3 hours before the Smosh Hospital liveshow, somehow shocked to still find Angela to be the most eager and excited of the cast as usual, as if she wasn’t the least bit worried about being the only cast member assigned to a main character (really the main character) without a partner. It just reinforced his yearslong suspicion, solidifying it as a fact, that no one and nothing could bend or break Angela’s spirit when she was about to perform. He’d never say it aloud, but it was no secret that when she devoted her mind to a task, she was easily one of the hardest cast members to break; though, he’d never wish any misfortune on Angela ever, he couldn’t deny that if it was anyone else left in the lurch, it would be much more prominent issue against continuing the liveshow as planned. But Angela could do it, no problem. Honestly, after years of knowing the energetic and enigmatic woman Damien was certain that Angela could do anything.
Fortunately, Damien wouldn’t have to worry about getting into makeup for his silver face paint until more than half an hour into the show, after his cameos as a patient in critical condition and the grim reaper. Mostly, he would be riffing ridiculous announcements over the intercom. Sure, it wasn’t quite as fun as being involved in the play, but over rehearsals, he’d enjoyed himself quite a bit, saying the most whack ass comments just in hopes of getting Angela to break and burst out into giggles. Still, he was prepared for the inevitability that she couldn’t afford to be as generous with her laughter tonight.
The one true upside to his role was that of all of the cast members, he was the only one fully in the loop. Only crew and Damien knew the spin they’d have for the ending. For the entirety of the rehearsal process, his secret character had been disparaged with all sorts of insults and jokes. Mr. ThinBuck was the elusive and mysterious figure head/owner of Loving Embrace Medical and often referenced as God of the show, the determining factor pulling the strings behind the scenes. He’d expected somebody to catch on that not only would the character make an appearance in the liveshow, but that it would be Damien, the omniscient announcer over the intercoms.
He’d thought it was clever, but ultimately obvious that it would be the voice presiding over the hospital. Yet nobody seemed to have the slightest suspicion as they’d continued to give his absent character some of the most ridiculous lore during rehearsals. Still, Damien only really expected a reaction from Shayne, the one person who understood the context of JamTron, a nod to their days at Disney Channel. Everyone else had simply deemed Mr. ThinBuck to be the faceless micromanager of the hospital.
Damien busied himself, offering assistance to the crew in any menial tasks before the liveshow began. Even so, he paused and reveled in the palpable excitement when cast came out from makeup an hour and a half later. And goddammit, Angela was somehow the prettiest man he’d ever seen, despite donning a short silver wig and a gray goatee. Still, her beautiful and big brown eyes reminded him that even underneath the masculine makeover she was still Angela, graciously saving him from pondering whether or not he’d need to reevaluate his sexual orientation. But…well, there was no denying his inherent attraction to Angela.
Though it did also make him wonder, if maybe that made him slightly narcissistic considering the barrage of comments that had flooded the Smosh Hospital promo post, insisting they looked alike. He didn’t see it, but then again, Angela didn’t look much like herself in her character’s costume. But there was no denying those eyes. If anything, he decided to take it as the compliment it was. It wasn’t as though he had poor self-image; still, Damien knew his eyes didn’t sparkle the way hers did. In fact, nobody’s eyes sparkled like Angela’s.
Damien felt bad for immediately finding the silver-lining of her unfortunate predicament, but the truth was, he was giddy to watch her perform without reprieve. For the majority of the show, he would be offscreen with the camera’s view as he did his announcements and no offense to Ian, but Angela was way too amazing to have any adequate replacement.
As showtime grew closer, the energy of the cast and crew became absolutely electric. If Angela was at all anxious, she did not let it show while filming silly TikToks with their castmates as production finished getting prepped.
Damien took his seat as the liveshow began, his eyes waiting to fully engage until Angela was on stage. Her competitive and dedicated nature made him certain that she would try even harder to keep herself from breaking as she couldn’t sneak away to hide her laughter. As much as he was prepared to watch her absolutely kill it, he was most giddy to see her expressions falter with her visibly obvious attempts to keep her giggles at bay.
If Damien knew one thing to be true it was that there were few things as hilarious as watching Angela pout and pucker her face as she tried to stifle her own laughter. He’d always root for Angela; still, he couldn’t wait to see her break. The liveshow wouldn’t be worth half as much if she never let loose that adorable and endlessly effervescent giggle of hers. There was no greater sight or sound in the world. She was a magnetic performer who took her craft seriously, which is why it was such a blessing that she’d ever found herself at Smosh, giving the world the instant insight that somehow, she was a million times more entertaining simply by being herself.
Well, that wasn’t the only reason it was a blessing that she joined Smosh, not for Damien. Angela’s presence was the personification of joy, and he couldn’t be more in awe of her. A bad day couldn’t exist; no burnout could manifest if he could see her smile and hear her laugh. Her uninhibited cackle would shatter through the silence and Damien would constantly find himself shocked that there was a single soul that wasn’t in love with her.
He couldn’t comprehend that kind of poor taste or perhaps the willpower it required to not fall all over oneself when her cheerful laughter would ring through any and every room as the sweetest sound. Perhaps, he’d simply been under her spell too long to conceive of another way of existing. Weeks, months, years, they all just flew right by after she’d started working at Smosh, each day a bit brighter.
Damien had given up on seeing his feelings as his own misfortune. It wasn’t like the ache had stopped once he’d admitted to himself that falling out of love wasn’t an option for him this time, not with Angela, but he had stopped being afraid of the pain. Loving Angela was like the bittersweet sting that came from receiving relief at smacking a swollen mosquito bite to stop from scratching. Being around her so often without acknowledging his feelings aloud felt counterintuitive to his inherent nature, but he knew it would protect him from scratching until he left a scar. He’d smile at her and say some self-restrained compliment, like marking an X over the itch by pressing into the protrusion with the crescent indentations of his thumbnail doubled perpendicular over one another, hoping in vain that it could eliminate the urge to scratch at it again.
That wasn’t entirely right, mosquito bites didn’t embed themselves into the skin for 3 years and counting, usually it’d be gone within a week. Still, it was the closest description he could grasp, because much like a mosquito bite, he couldn’t fool or trick himself into forgetting that his feelings were there, still going strong, still itchy as hell underneath his very skin. If he admitted it, if he scratched at the itch by telling her the truth, he was sure to find himself bleeding by the end of it.
Damien was forced to refocus as Erin prompted him to head backstage and put on his massive prop hard-hat with the deceptively light pole piercing it clear through. He played his bit part, falling back into Anthony’s arms putting on his best seizing expression as he caught on his words like a needle skip on a record player. She didn’t giggle but still wore a pretty and small smile as he was dragged back through the ER doors.
Afterwards, Damien slipped on his grim reaper costume. He was glad to be told that he would walk in on Amanda’s bit, certain nobody would make Angela break, like she could. Additionally, he had the black veil to hide where his eyes would always be prone to fall.
The laughing was already underway when he entered the scene, still Angela mostly held her face together, a laugh in her voice, her lips puckered and brown eyes wide in surprise, back to the camera as he strolled in. He chimed in here and there, all too content to watch Amanda continue breaking the cast, Angela fighting for her life to keep the scene going.
Once he’d left, getting a wave and thanks from her for doing absolutely nothing, he slipped back offstage to begin getting into makeup.
Damien’s favorite part of the show was watching Angela and Nurse O’Connell’s conversation in the bathroom as she reverted to rehearsal behavior continuing to hasten off and immediately back onto the stage when she remembered that she had no backup. Then, she leaned into it as a bit, getting loud laughter every time. Once Amanda revealed herself in the stall, it became a dozen times funnier. Poor Angela looked like she was in pain; in solidarity Damien’s laughter also had his cheeks aching and sore.
Crystallized tears gathered at Angela’s waterline, her voice sounding choked up from the effort to swallow back her own laughter as she shamelessly broke character and simply warned Shayne to not even look at their cowboy costar. Damien’s side ached in utter stitches from watching Angela’s expression. She wasn’t the only performer that was absolutely hiysterics but at a certain point, she’d almost dropped the pretense of remaining in character.
Angela hadn’t necessarily given up on her performance, but she’d seemed to grasp at the undeniable levity within her situation, allowing herself to break a bit more liberally, all too aware that the fans not only couldn’t begrudge her for laughing but would be bound to find it even more amusing when she did. Still, he doubted that she’d ever fully understand just why her reactions were always met with uproarious laughter; in all of the years he’d known her, she’d never seemed to catch on.
Angela’s joy was the greatest determining factor of whether or not a video performed well. Her laughter wasn’t merely contagious, it was addictive. Just hearing her get lost in a giddy giggle was powerful enough to release a concentrated dose of dopamine to all fortunate enough to witness it. Angela was a person living in the extreme of all emotions; Damien assumed it was what made her such a phenomenal performer. Angela didn’t mimic or parrot emotion, she embodied it in all she did, every line she delivered whether it was scripted or improv. That sincerity didn’t simply present emotion to the audience, it enchanted the crowd to empathize alongside with her, caught up in the spell of her face with every scene. Angela wasn’t an actress, she was an enchantress, and she didn’t even realize it. She didn’t perform, she mesmerized the audience with her magnetic magic, effortlessly wielded against any eyes that fell on her.
For the millionth time, it shocked him that he’d only ever known Angela to be single. If it was a choice, he’d be able to understand and yet she always made self-depreciating jokes about being unpartnered. Still, Damien doubted it was possible that he could be the only person head over heels in love with her.
Damien was primarily a pragmatic person; over the last decade or so, he’d learned to be withholding of his romantic affections. He’d stopped being the kind of person that could fall in love; he was stingy and strict with his attractions, careful and controlled about crushes before they even had a chance to develop. Damien never wanted to lose himself in love again, so he became methodical and meticulous about the people he’d allow himself to get close to, but then Angela…
From the very first day he worked with her on TNTL: Blind Pairs, Damien caught himself watching in wonder through her bits. He’d tried to justify that he was keeping a close eye, checking in on all the newly contracted castmates; sure, receiving her stunning smile felt like being showered in the warmest sunshine after the most blistering and brutal yearslong winter. And okay, maybe her maple eyes looked like endless pools of the sweetest syrup, brightened by the infinite and intoxicating sparkle they carried. So, he shook it off as best he could once he realized that he unfortunately found himself agonizingly attracted to her.
Yes, it was rare for him to feel that way about somebody he’d just met, but she was irrefutably and undeniably cute; at the end of the day, Damien was attracted to women, so he couldn’t be all that surprised or upset with himself for noticing Angela in that way. He couldn’t pluck out his eyes to protect himself from the complicated burden that was attraction, so masochistically he’d kept them honed on her. By the end of that first day, he regretfully realized that even if he’d been blind, merely the sound of her honest and uninhibited laughter would’ve forced him to notice her.
As it started so immediately with attraction, Damien had fooled himself into thinking he had nothing to worry about. He had never been a slave to surface-level attraction because it rarely amounted to anything more, never something quite so dangerous and desperate as desire. But it couldn’t grow into desire when he’d been initially introduced to her as a colleague, he was far too levelheaded and logical for that. Or so, he’d thought.
It didn’t take long for him to realize he’d glued his feet to a runaway train because Angela wasn’t only lovely, she was so goddamn lovable, absolutely hilarious, so deeply kind and infuriatingly talented. Her charisma filled the room like an electric current; her authenticity was so unbelievably adorable and endearing. All understandable reasons to fall for her without a shred of resistance, yet it had been so much more.
The root of his feelings for Angela had sprouted in his absolute admiration for her. Damien had hid behind a carefully crafted mask for most of his life; it wasn’t until he’d made a routine of therapy, received proper diagnoses and found the right cocktail of medication that he’d finally discovered the freedom to accept and become himself.
Even so, sometimes, he could be prone to backsliding, prioritizing the comfort of others when he worried that he was the awkward outlier in conversations, fading into the background so he didn’t risk being too much for the people around him. But then Angela…
God, she was different; it wasn’t some sexist trope about how she wasn’t like other girls, Angela wasn’t like other people. She stood apart from any and every person he’d ever met. Sometimes, she’d let those small moments spill out, anecdotes about things in her childhood that formed her own insecurities. It always made Damien so sad to hear it, the slight and small solemn tone in her voice before she’d find a way to slip in a joke to diffuse the tension and undermine her own hurt. And yet, even though she had insecurities and she unfairly doubted her own capabilities, she never let that stop her from being her most honest self. She owned it all, but she never allowed it to change her. Damien was in absolute awe of that, of her.
In many ways, meeting Angela had further coaxed him out of the mask he’d been hiding behind for so long. He wanted her kind of courage to be his complete self. So, he slowly began to disassemble his filters, one at a time. He’d make the dumb joke, say the crazy, stupid thought, let his own laughter rip through him without restraint. Following her example, ignoring that itch to assimilate for the relief of others, had brought him so much joy, but more importantly, it filled him with so much peace.
Realizing he’d fallen for her was like a soft sting; it hadn’t shocked him, he’d seen it coming for months, but he’d never pulled back to try and stop it, probably because he’d realized it was pointless to fight against it. What was the use in attempting to delay the inevitable? As long as he knew her, he’d been falling for her; it would’ve been impossible to stop that. Just suddenly, after a year or so, her smile filled him with bittersweet butterflies, the attraction and adoration just clicked into place, and he started to ache for more. That hadn’t been the unpleasant part.
No, what had made falling for Angela so absolutely agonizing was realizing soon after, that he’d come to love himself in ways he never expected he could. Since knowing her, he’d completely stopped hiding behind that mask, he’d abandoned it completely and the craziest thing had happened. In following her lead, Damien had somehow begun to heal his inner child. It would sound sappy and cheesy said aloud, but it was the truth.
He no longer feared being too much, he stopped curbing his reactions for the relief of the room, he followed his most innate and innocent instincts, not the least bit concerned of making a fool of himself. If he was just being himself, then he couldn’t possibly be too much, he was just Damien. The bittersweet part was that he’d made the change solely for himself, not for anyone else, not even Angela, and yet, somehow, every time he’d say something too crazy, too quick, she’d lose it. The more sincere and unfiltered he’d become the more positively she’d react. Even at his weirdest, Angela showered him with approval and laughter; sometimes he’d lose the room, but he never seemed to lose her.
Damien sometimes wondered if it was a show of superficial support, but there was never an ounce of artifice in her dark amber eyes. She could see him coming into himself and she’d done everything she could to encourage him, at least that’s how it felt. He sometimes tried to trick himself into thinking that Angela preferred the most authentic version of Damien. But that was probably wishful thinking. She was just cheering on her friend’s courage, and he knew she’d be like that for anyone else. That’s just who she is.
Still, realizing that his love for Angela had led him to discovering a deeper love for himself was easily the scariest epiphany of his life. Angela had done nothing but be herself and it had inspired the hell out of him to try the same thing. It had seemed like the easiest and simplest joy, and it was, but in stumbling to find himself, he’d lost his steady footing. He hadn’t fallen in love with her; he’d tripped after gaining far too much momentum. It hadn’t felt like falling, it felt like flying. And now, he was too far gone; his feet couldn’t even remember the sensation of what it had once been like to stand on steady ground.
Damien was pulled back to the present as Erin had passed off the microphone. He did a brief improv announcement, doing his best to ignore the unpleasant scent of the silver face paint that had been plastered across the majority of his face. Still, he yet again, for the thousandth time, found himself reminded of another reason why he was in love with Angela.
The fans had graciously voted to give the actors a water-break, yet despite having just admitted how badly she needed to drink some water (the only main cast member without a rotating replacement), Angela quickly passed off her water bottle, instinctually prioritizing that everyone else got some water first. It was almost frustrating to know, to see Angela’s daily practices of compassion and understand that still, she waved away compliments, never quite accepting the obvious truth that she was much too good. It was so inherent in her nature that she refused to admit it, couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge how unique those qualities were, not realizing all that made her so extraordinary, so undeniably special.
Though loving Angela was almost like a thorn in Damien’s side that he’d become accustomed to ignoring over the years, sometimes he couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing over the idea of his feelings being returned. There was an unearned entitlement in the way that he loved her. Angela needed to be loved by someone like him; that didn’t mean Damien deserved for it to be him. It had nothing to do with him; it was about what Angela deserved. It was so plain to see that she sincerely struggled to put herself first when in the company of others. Even if it couldn’t be him, Damien had to believe that when the time finally came for her to choose someone to commit her future to, that it would be someone who never made Angela doubt that she was their main priority. Angela needed to be somebody’s #1, she deserved no less.
In fact, that was the absolute bare minimum. Angela gave so much of herself and Damien truly hoped that one day she’d find someone worthy of her love, someone that didn’t take from her, someone that replenished her cup, recharged her battery and never once left her wanting.
If Damien ever received any indication that Angela would be open to the idea, he would fly at the chance for it to be him. Still, he did his best to be that for her in any way possible within the platonic and professional boundaries of their relationship. He’d be whatever she needed from him and perhaps that was the true reason he still wanted more despite all of the time he’d spent reminding himself that it wasn’t possible. The only thing he wanted more than Angela’s love, was the right to love her freely and openly. As a friend, he couldn’t make her breakfast before a busy day, he couldn’t kiss her head and hold her close whenever she doubted herself, he couldn’t devote hours to making her feel like the most lovable and loved person in the world, so instead, Damien did what he could.
Suddenly, as his face paint had finished being applied, he felt himself freeze in place, noticing Erin’s eyes land on him as Angela made the comedic choice to proclaim that her character, Dr. Condo, had gotten around suspension by fucking the owner of the hospital, and Damien’s secret character reveal of Mr. ThinBuck. He quickly fixed his face; Angela didn’t know, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. “Damien, you don’t have to come out as-”
He calmly shook his head and cut off Erin’s whispered offer. “It’s fine. The ending is so chaotic, I’ll be able to push right through the reveal. No big deal.” After a second, she nodded.
No big deal.
Angela was no stranger to shoving her foot straight into her mouth; yet, stupidly enough, she’d allowed herself to believe that she’d been doing a pretty good job during the liveshow, especially considering that Ian, her character counterpart was out sick, but then one stupid throwaway line, one unnecessary, improvised joke had her internally spiraling amid the chaos of the finale.
Halfway into the liveshow, she’d just allowed herself to surrender and submit to the stupid silliness of the evening. She’d stopped stressing out that she’d say the wrong thing and lose the room. There was nothing she could say to stop the constant laughter of their audience, so she yielded to the impulse of just having fun acting like a fool with her friends. Luck had been on her side as even the dumbest of improvised bits and jokes had got a laugh. So, like the consistent cautionary tale that was her life, Angela had moronically stopped thinking before speaking; as if that had ever once gone well for her in the past.
At the time, she’d thought it was a small and amusing little crack, Dr. Condo absolutely would fuck his way out of suspension and though that kind of quid pro quo arrangement would undoubtedly be problematic in the real world, it seemed par for the course with the employees of Loving Embrace Medical. She’d also been making an inside joke for the cast as they’d all taken turns building up the lore for the absent and elusive character. Mr. ThinBuck hadn’t even been a character, more like an intangible presence over the story; they’d even nicknamed him the liveshow’s voice of God…
And it only dawned on her after she’d realized her mistake, that the identity of Mr. ThinBuck had been right there, utterly obvious, all along. The voice of God…their intercom announcer, Damien.
God-fucking-dammit. Right, that was the whole problem; poor choice of thoughts – oof and words.
Graciously, Damien didn’t acknowledge her thoughtless comment in the brief introduction of his character. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from bawking at her very public realization, feeling Court cast eyes her way as Angela couldn’t help but dumbly repeat the statement for clarification. “YOU’RE Mr. ThinBuck?”
“You bet your sweet giggling ass I am!” Damien said with a point and not a second’s pause as he continued setting up their finale.
Only Angela was not giggling; she was covering her mouth to hide her shock, and not the slightest amount of laughter, more so mortification. She was far too busy dissociating to even attempt to laugh. Fuck.
It was not a big deal, just some unplanned bit she never would’ve introduced had she known. Angela felt like the world’s biggest idiot. Still, she was fortunate enough to have the laughter at Damien’s chaotic and erratic instructions quickly steamroll over her embarrassment, giving her the chance to focus on the crazy finale, even slipping away from the mainstage to lean against Amanda laying on the hospital bed as the others did a chugging contest.
It really shouldn’t be a big deal, but unfortunately for Angela, it was. Her words didn’t matter quite as much as her reaction. She’d spent months, years even, trying to toe that line of professional and platonic friendship with Damien, but it was really fucking hard. Honestly, she deserved a medal for how well she’d done thus far.
Even if she hadn’t been stupidly attracted to him from their very first shoot together of TNTL: Blind Pairs, Angela doubted she still could’ve stopped herself from falling for the brilliant, compassionate, talented and sweet nerd. He had the kind of cute and crooked smile she couldn’t help but imagine kissing, he possessed the most benevolent patience with her even when she could sense that she was being too much in any given video. Damien could make her cry from laughter even on her worst days. It was as though the longer she knew him the more she’d been exposed to the most authentic and unabashed version of Damien, and with each day she’d found him to be even more magnetic and wonderful.
Angela had allowed herself the indulgence of believing it was his way of extending earned trust to her. He’d stopped curbing his words and even his complaints as though he no longer viewed their friendship as something fragile, it wasn’t shallow or breakable simply because they started off as colleagues at Smosh. The worst part was realizing that the less cautious and filtered he became, the more she had to grapple with the fact that her feelings for him had far exceeded something as simple as a surface-level crush. The more careless his comedy and open his expression became, the deeper her adoration for him had become.
Still, she’d often clung to the comprehension that the true crux of her circumstances had to be the taboo attraction; at least, that’s how she categorized and justified that warm and fluttery feeling she’d get in her stomach when he looked at her with that warm and hushed humor in his honeyed and hypnotic hazel eyes. The truth was that it was all his damn fault. Damien was gentle and good, overflowing with the sincerest sweetness and support for all the people blessed enough to call him a friend.
He’d softly smirk as he showered his friends with the highest praise, the fondest affection in his eyes. Regardless, the man had made a terrible mistake in bestowing Angela with that beautiful and beloved gaze. Damien was like that with everyone so he didn’t know any better, he didn’t understand that Angela couldn’t handle it the way everyone else did, especially without desperately reading into it, delusionally convincing herself that his expression was the slightest bit softer, the smile in his eyes even sweeter when he was looking at her. No, Angela just wanted so badly to believe it that she was able to picture it.
Trevor prompted Angela to rejoin the main cast and abandon her position on the hospital bed; reluctantly, she obliged. At the grand part of the finale, Angela carelessly volunteered herself to sell off tickets by kissing a castmate and she barely blinked at the proposition. Now that, truly was no big deal; how could it be when the only person she wanted to kiss was the person prompting the challenge and not one of the participants?
Even if it didn’t actually matter, Angela’s stomach still soured looking at Shayne standing across from her. It wasn’t just weird to picture kissing her married colleague, directly in front of his best friend that she was an absolute goner for, it was uncomfortable and downright nauseating to hear a countdown to kissing a man she sincerely saw as her older brother.
Then, thank God, like a gracious hail Mary, Court pushed her husband out of the way and quickly claimed Angela’s lips. Instantly, she sighed in relief; honestly, she was pretty damn flattered, Court was a verifiable smokeshow and it was much easier to actually enjoy the kiss from her beautiful bestie than her symbolic older brother. Besides, unsurprisingly, Court was a damn good kisser. Angela didn’t continue to actually participate in the rest of the kissing, but she did put on a good show to make it seem as though she was caught up in the 4-way split makeout. Still, the true relief didn’t come until once the show ended. There was jovial applause for the payoff of their months of hard work before crew began to wrap up the set and cast slipped offstage to remove their makeup.
Angela realistically should’ve been one of the first finished, but instead she lingered, wondering how long it would take to remove liberally lathered silver face paint. It was stupid; Angela didn’t actually have a legitimate reason to check in. It wasn’t as though she sincerely thought Damien would be the least bit bothered about her ignorant and impulsive improvisation; still, that probably wasn’t the real reason she took her time and stuck around.
The majority of the cast and crew had planned to meet up for drinks afterwards and Damien had been so busy, traveling all over the country for conventions and still had a few more to do in the upcoming week, that she seriously doubted he’d join the wrap party. Angela didn’t know how long it would be until the next time she saw him and un-fucking-fortunately, despite all her internal peptalks about appropriate expectations and professional boundaries, she’d been missing him so damn much lately. She simply wasn’t ready to stay goodnight; no, she still needed a few minutes of his undivided attention and sweet smiles to satiate that starving sensation in her chest. Angela needed to recharge herself with his genuine grin and giddy giggle, she needed just a little more of Damien’s overspilling gaze to stave off the sting she felt in his absence.
So, she found herself meandering through the almost empty set as the last few crew members made their way out, waiting until she’d be free to talk to him without any audience. As predicted, she found Damien sitting in front of a vanity mirror, furiously scrubbing away the remaining fragments of silver streaks on his forehead with a makeup wipe, a used stack of more than a dozen crumpled up in front of him. Angela smirked to herself as she made her way over.
His silver-stained brows cutely pulled up in surprise as she leaned against the vanity table, back faced to the mirror as she looked down at him. “I’m getting serious déjà vu right now. Colonel Sanders, is that you?” She teased.
Damien let out a soft snort of laughter as he looked up at her with that sweet smile that made her insides flutter. “At least I wasn’t character-swiped by Amanda this time around.”
She gave him a small shrug. “Well, that goes without saying; her cowboy had us in stitches.”
Damien’s brows furrowed with forced offense. “Is that your way of saying I couldn’t keep up with her cowboy?” He asked before returning to wiping at his face.
Angela shook her head. “Nah, I think your talents are a bit too multi-faceted to have you chained down by just one character.”
The compliment seemed to surprise him as he smirked to himself. “Thanks, but I didn’t do all that much; nowhere near the impressive miracle you pulled off all on your own tonight.”
Angela rolled her eyes at Damien’s sincere modesty, diverting with praise for her. “Oh, please. You were all over the place and were able to steal the show with only your voice.” Angela grinned, noting a small patch of silver he’d missed, just behind his earlobe. She easily snagged the makeup wipe from his hands before she leaned forward, gingerly wiping at the smudge in his blindspot. “You had a couple of pretty important characters under your belt tonight, somehow both the grim reaper and the voice of God.” That seemed as subtle a segue as she could steer into. “Speaking of which, I wanted to say-”
Damien easily pulled the wipe from her hands as he preemptively shrugged off her apology. “Don’t worry about it, Ang. None of the cast knew. It’s no big deal.” Wasn’t it; if not, then she felt even dumber for hyperfocusing on it. He wiped at the spot she’d already cleaned. “Besides, Mr. ThinBuck ain’t so easy; you’d have to buy me dinner first.” He joked, but there was something forced and strained in the cadence of his voice, as he didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Just kidd-”
Even though the spot was clean, she couldn’t stop herself from gently rubbing her thumb over the spot, mostly as a method to get him to look back at her. When Damien did, instantly going silent, those fluttery feelings hit her with full force. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” She offered, feeling foolishly brave for the moment and boy, was it worth it when Damien’s expression was something she’d never seen before, stunned and dead-serious as he searched her eyes. Her hand dropped to his shoulder as she tenderly teased him while testing the waters. “Though I wouldn’t expect you to put out just because I’m paying.” Then, boldly (shamelessly), she briefly licked her lip before barely biting down on it. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that either though if you felt so inclined.”
Damien tried to laugh it off, but he didn’t seem capable of forcing the effort, eyes darting to her lips as he absentmindedly licked his own. Ladies and Gentlemen, we got him. “Ang,” He let out a shaky and soft sigh. “Can I kis-”
She wasn’t patient enough to let him finish his question, especially on the off chance it wasn’t what she hoped it was, giving him her answer as she gently leaned down and interrupted the inquiry on his lips, tenderly and tentatively pressing hers against his. Angela’s timidness instantly seemed pointless as Damien didn’t take a second’s pause to kiss her back like he’d been waiting years to do so. The knot in her stomach quickly came undone as he strained his face forward, one arm wrapping around the small of her back, the other hand resting on her cheek before pulling her the slightest bit closer. The kiss wasn’t frenzied and forceful and yet, it was sweetly passionate and insistent, allowing a fever to spread across her skin.
Had it really been this simple all along? Angela felt like a fool, a fortunate fool, but a fool, nonetheless. She’d read his eyes right and she’d never felt so smugly satisfied in all her life.
After a much too short moment of the most delicious bliss she gingerly pulled away with the easiest and most effortless smile she’d ever worn, letting out a light, huff of laughter. “I’m sorry, Dames. Were you asking me something?”
Damien needed a moment to catch up to the levity, almost as though he was frozen under some spell before his eyes finally opened and the shyest and sweetest smile tugged at his soft lips as he looked up at her. “Nothing you haven’t already answered.” He grinned up at her with the most adorable blush. “But you might need to repeat yourself; I’d hate to have misheard.”
She smirked and let him pull her back to his lips, all too eager to keep their deliciously electric conversation going.