The hotel room was dimly lit, the only glow spilling from the street lamps outside the window. Your suitcase was half-open on the chair, clothes spilling out like you hadn’t bothered to settle in. The two of you had been on the road for weeks, bouncing from city to city, the line between exhaustion and intimacy blurring with every late night spent together.

Damiano lounged across the bed like he owned it, his dark hair falling messily into his eyes as he watched you kick off your shoes. There was something infuriating about how comfortable he always seemed, like the chaos of tour life only made him thrive.

“Long day,” you muttered, grabbing the edge of the blanket. “I’m just gonna crash.”

Damiano raised an eyebrow at your words, clearly not convinced.

“Just gonna sleep, huh? Nothing else?” He leaned forward, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

“Come on, princess. I know you can’t resist me.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words. “In your dreams, Damiano.”

He chuckled, a low and cocky sound, shifting closer until you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“Oh, believe me, you’ve been in a few of my dreams lately.”

You… weren’t sure what to do with that information. Your pulse quickened, a nervous laugh slipping from your lips as you tried to play it off.

“Yeah? Bet they were nightmares.”

Damiano tilted his head, gaze locked on you with a spark of mischief.

“Sweetheart, trust me… they were anything but.”