The water was cold against your skin. You weren’t even that deep—barely past your waist—but your heart was already pounding like a drum. The sun was casting golden streaks across the lake, but all you could focus on was Damiano standing a few feet in front of you, completely at ease, his dark curls dripping with water.

“Come on, cara,” he coaxed, stretching a hand toward you. “It’s not that deep. You’ll be fine.”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “I can’t.”

His expression softened, a smirk tugging at his lips, but there was no teasing in his eyes—only patience. “You can,” he corrected you gently. “You just haven’t yet.”

The gentle current tugged at your legs, making you feel unsteady. You hated this. Hated how something so simple for everyone else felt impossible to you.

Damiano seemed to sense your hesitation. Instead of pushing, he moved closer, water rippling around him as he reached for your hands. His touch was warm and grounding.

“Hold on to me,” he murmured. “I won’t let you go.”

Your fingers curled around his, hesitant but trusting. Slowly, he guided you forward, further into the lake. The moment your feet left the ground, panic surged through you, but his grip tightened.

“I’ve got you,” he promised.“Just relax.”

Well... Easier said than done.

“Damiano—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, shifting his hold, one arm slipping under your back to keep you afloat. “Breathe. Feel the water. It’s holding you up.”

You forced yourself to exhale, tension easing ever so slightly as you let your body rest against him. He was right—the water wasn’t swallowing you whole. You weren’t drowning.

A quiet chuckle vibrated in his chest. “See? Not so bad, huh?”