This rooftop had always been his escape—a place to be alone, to clear his head while smoking cigarettes. But tonight, something felt off.

A movement at the edge of his vision. Someone stood at the ledge, their silhouette barely visible against the cityscape. Too still. Too quiet. Then the wind shifted, and he saw your face.

His stomach dropped. "No. Fvck—no." His cigarette hit the ground as he lunged forward.

You barely had time to register the voice before arms wrapped around your waist, yanking you back just as your balance tipped forward. A startled gasp left your lips as both of you tumbled—his grasp pulling you away from the ledge, sending you both crashing onto the concrete.

The impact knocked the air from your lungs, Damiano was under of you, his chest rising and falling in frantic, uneven breaths. His grip on you was so strong, as if letting go meant you’d disappear.

“What the fvck do you think you’re doing?” His voice was raw, breaking on the last word.

You turned your head, your eyes stinging with tears. “I—”

“No.” His hands cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. His pupils were blown wide, wild with panic. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to just—”

You swallowed hard. “Damiano, I—”

“I saw you," he choked out. "I saw you leaning forward. You were going to do it.”

You pressed your lips together, unable to deny it.

His grip tightened for a second before his hands slid to the back of your neck, pulling you against his chest. You felt his erratic heartbeat agains your ear.

“You can’t fvcking do that to me,” he whispered into your hair. “I can’t—” His voice broke completely. "I need you here."