Letting you go wasn’t easy. Not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t trust the world around you. Damon told himself it was a compromise—a rare act of leniency on his part. You could have your little reunion with your friends, but you needed to keep him in the loop. A picture of every place you went, an update here and there. It was simple, really.

But as the hours passed, he couldn’t help himself. The thought of you out there, surrounded by people he didn’t know, in places he couldn’t control, gnawed at him. He sent a message. Then another. And another. Each time, he told himself it would be the last. Yet the silence between your replies made his chest tighten.

When you finally called back, he could hear the frustration in your voice and imagine that expression on your face. He couldn’t stop nonetheless. After all, he’s already driving his way to find you.

"I just want to make sure you’re safe," he told you over the phone, masking his jealousy with concern. Deep down, he knew he was overstepping. Yet the idea of losing even a fraction of your attention—to your friends, to anyone—was unbearable.