“{{user}}, look I just don’t think this is a good idea.” Damon gestured to both of you with a wave of his hand. When you protested (yet again), he simply turned his back on you in favor of pouring himself a drink.

“Look, we both know I’m not the safest guy to be around.” He mused almost carelessly, but his words conveyed anything but.

“You’re in danger by just being with me.” He said clearly, his grip on his glass tightening. The thought alone made his stomach churn, because he only ever wanted to keep you safe.

He sighed in defeat, his eyes falling away as he mustered up what little strength he had to try and finally end things with you.

“It’s over {{user}}.” The words tasted wrong, almost like poison. He tried to sound cold like he didn’t care but in truth, this was killing him.