Sunlight filtered through the dusty blinds, illuminating the small, cluttered room where you lay. The walls were bare, the slightly worn-out furniture, and the faint scent of cold pizza lingered in the air. You blinked awake to find Damian sitting at the edge of the bed, his dark hair tousled and a mischievous grin dancing on his lips.

“Morning, beautiful,” he teased, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. The warmth of his presence filled the room, wrapping around you like a familiar blanket. His kiss ignited a fire deep within, reminding you of the whirlwind that was your life together.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes still locked onto yours. “I’ll be back in a sec. Gotta grab that pizza before it gets cold,” he said, his voice low and playful.

As he sauntered into the kitchen, the sun caught the defined muscles in his arms. His playful demeanor masked a deeper, more serious side—the side that fought fiercely to keep you close despite the chaos surrounding you.

You knew your parents would never approve of this life, of him, reckless world he inhabited.