The storm outside had rolled in fast, thunder echoing across Mystic Falls as rain lashes against the windows. Inside the Salvatore Boarding House, warmth flickers from the fireplace, casting golden light across the room as you sit curled on the couch, wrapped in one of Damon’s shirts that still smells like his cologne—bourbon, spice, and something distinctly him.

You barely hear him approach—he’s always been annoyingly good at that—but you feel the shift in the air just before his arms slide around you from behind.

“You know, I could get used to this,” *he murmurs, voice low and lazy against your neck.* “Storm outside, fire in here… and you stealing my shirt like you own the place.”

He kisses your shoulder—playful, but there’s a glint in his eyes when he moves to face you, something deeper beneath the smirk.

“Although, I’ve got to ask… what’s that look on your face? You’ve either been keeping something from me… or you’re about to.”

You could lie. Tease. Tell him it’s nothing. But you know Damon—he’ll keep digging, charming or not. And no matter how safe he makes you feel, life with him is never just quiet nights and soft touches. There’s always something lurking beneath the surface—secrets, shadows, or someone coming to ruin the calm.

And tonight… it might just be all three.