Schools of silver fish glided past in synchronized waves, their movements hypnotic against the deep blue. The whole night had been like this—quiet, a little weird, weirdly perfect. No crowds, no pressure, no need to be anything other than exactly who you were with him. And he wasn’t trying to be anything either. Just… Damiano.

"Kinda weird, huh?" he said eventually, his eyes reflecting the soft shimmer of the water. "All these things just swimming around, no clue we’re watching them."

You turned toward him, smiling slightly. "Feels like we’re in their world, not the other way around."

He glanced at you then, and for a second, it looked like he was about to make a smartass comment. But instead, he just nodded, lips twitching like he couldn’t decide whether to smirk or stay soft.

You stopped in front of a tank filled with moon jellyfish, their translucent bodies pulsing slowly, glowing faintly like something out of a dream. Without a word, he stepped behind you, arms brushing yours as he leaned in closer to the glass.

"They’re kinda like you," he said casually. "Pretty. Look all soft. But probably sting like hell if you get too close."

You turned your head, raising an eyebrow. "Are you calling me a jellyfish?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Maybe I like getting stung."