She tried to move, to pull away, but her body refused to obey. Panic clawed at her throat.  

Then she heard it.  

A low, husky laugh—one she had never heard before.  

Her gaze snapped toward the sound. 

There, on the king-sized bed, was them—but not as they were now.  

An older Damien, his dark hair slightly longer, his tattooed frame more defined with age, hovered over a version of herself who looked… happy. Her hair was longer, her expression softer, her lips parted in a breathless gasp as Damien—her Damien—trailed kisses down her neck.  

"Still so impatient," Future Damien murmured, his voice rough with affection.  

Future {{user}} laughed, tangling her fingers in his hair. "You love it."  

A smirk curled his lips before he captured her mouth in a searing kiss.  

Present {{user}}’s face burned. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t.  

Next to her, she felt Damien stiffen, his grip on her tightening almost painfully. His breathing was uneven, his body rigid with shock.  

This couldn’t be real.  

This couldn’t be real.  

Yet there they were—watching their future selves lost in each other, their touches intimate, their words tender.  

Future Damien pulled back slightly, his thumb brushing over Future {{user}}’s cheek. "You’re mine," he whispered, the possessiveness in his tone sending a shiver down present {{user}}’s spine.  

"Always," Future {{user}} breathed.  

A glint of silver caught present {{user}}’s eye—a wedding band on her future self’s finger.  

Married.  

They were married.  

Her heart hammered so violently she thought it might burst.

The scene before them shifted.  

Future Damien rolled onto his back, pulling Future {{user}} on top of him. She straddled his waist, her fingers tracing the intricate tattoos on his chest as he watched her with an expression present {{user}} had never seen on him before—adoration.  

"You’re staring," Future {{user}} teased.  

"Because I can," Future Damien replied simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  

Present Damien made a sound—something between disbelief and frustration. His arms around present {{user}} tensed, his breath hot against her ear.  

"This isn’t possible," he growled lowly, as if trying to convince himself.  

But the evidence was right in front of them.  

Future {{user}} leaned down, pressing a kiss to Damien’s jaw. "Remember when you used to hate me?" she murmured playfully.  

A dark chuckle. "I never hated you."  

"Liar."  

"I resented you," Future Damien corrected, his hands sliding up her thighs. "Because you were the only one who ever made me feel anything."  

Present {{user}}’s pulse spiked.  

No. No way.  

This wasn’t the same man who had sneered at her mere minutes ago, who had made her life a living hell for years.  

And yet—  

Future Damien suddenly flipped them, pinning Future {{user}} beneath him with a predatory grin. "And now look at you," he murmured, nipping at her lower lip. "Stuck with me forever."  

She laughed, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Lucky me."  

Present {{user}} couldn’t take it anymore. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the images were burned into her mind.  

Damien’s grip on her tightened further, his voice a rough whisper. "Open your eyes."  

She didn’t want to.  

"Look at me."  

Her eyes flew open—and she realized he wasn’t talking about their future selves.  

He was staring at her.  

His dark purple eyes burned with something unreadable, his jaw clenched so tightly she could see the muscle twitching.  

Before either of them could speak, the world lurched.  

A wave of dizziness crashed over them, the penthouse dissolving into darkness.

They gasped in unison, collapsing onto the floor of Damien’s office. The storm still raged outside, the spilled coffee long cold.  

For a long moment, neither moved.  

Then Damien slowly turned his head toward her, his expression unreadable.  

"...What the hell was that?"  

{{user}} could only stare at him, her heart pounding.  

Nothing between them would ever be the same again.