Twenty seven.

DAMIAN.

I've messed up again.

I've messed up the entire night, and there was no going back. I'd let my emotions lead me, and the more I did that, the more I seemed to fall deeper into this bottomless pit.

I didn't know what to call this attraction. The need to hold her close, the need to be in close contact with her, the undying urge to always hear her talk. Where did all of those come from?

The gala had been my undoing, and as I walked out of my room, which was against everything my heart wanted, I found myself prancing in my room. I hated how similar this was to the first time, and what I would despise the most was having the same thing happen all over again. An impossible kind of love that burns into pain and betrayal.

I didn't want that anymore. I kicked my shoes and kicked off the jacket. I threw it on the chair and sat at the edge of the bed, my hand ruffling my hair. I sighed tiredly. The problem at hand wasn't Ishtar. It was Minerva and how she was somehow manifested in Ishta