He hesitated, not knowing what it was she was looking for. What, did she want him to express his love for her? Did she want him to try to admit that there was this deep part of him that was so desperately in love with her he couldn't live without her? Did she want him to say that the kiss he had given her was a chance for a romantic relationship to grow between them? Well then, she would have been waiting on nothing. He felt no need to express any of his emotions to her, especially not now. He had lived his entire life without her, most of which was void of any kind of romanticism. And his kiss had meant nothing to him but a mistake he couldn't afford again.
Hadn't it?
"What do you mean, 'now what'? What else are you looking for?"
It had occurred to him long before this moment that she may have acted out of her own feeling and not out of his actions, but it was rationalized time and time again. She couldn't have possibly had any kind of feelings for him. Damien knew that he was too cold for her, too distant and frightening for her. It was Pierre she was attracted to, and rightfully so. At least Pierre had treated her like a female, a human that had the capability of feelings. Damien had gone out of his way to treat her like an animal that was to be released back into the wild - friendly and pleasant, but with the understanding that he was never going to be close to her because there was a time limit hanging over them, a time limit that was quickly running out. Becoming close to anyone was not what made him thrive or want to continue. It distracted and made him more vulnerable. He had everything that he needed and wanted in his memories and himself and that was perfectly fine by him. Rachel, like most of the humans in Damien's long life, was just one more human passing through, he was sure of it. So when the idea that any romantic feeling could arise from the current situation, it was pushed down immediately - as entertaining as it might have been - for the sake of preserving his bloodline and his promises. It was only until moments like this happened that Damien even realzed that he had done a horrible job silencing his own demons and he refused to let it interfere. So he would push everything down farther, until he could no longer see it even with his mind's eye.
It wasn't that he didn't like her. To the contrary. He had entertained thoughts like any man would - scolding himself and devoting his thoughts towards other avenues of rememberances afterwards - about Rachel. She was living with him in his house. He had dreamt from time to time of stroking the side of her face with his hand to see how warm she actually was, of guiding her hands over his scarred body, and his over hers. Of kissing her with the same amount of passion as he had once kissed his sire, whom he had loved more dearly than his own existence. Damien was not without feeling and emotion, but rather very good at not showing it. The crack in his visage had scared him half to his second death, and if for no other reason that was whyhe ran away so quickly after kissing her. He didn't crave Storm, but rather liked what he thought could occur if he let himself.
If he let himself.
The truth was he never did purposely. Instead he ignored anything that happened to pop up - every smile, every laugh, every want, everything - in his interactions with the human. There were more important things to concentrate on and the feeling - the novelty - of having this girl in his house would pass soon enough.
