You’d come inside soaked from the rain, hair plastered to your cheeks, shoes leaving little puddles on his kitchen tiles. The world outside had been loud and sharp tonight—people shouting under neon signs, taxis hissing past—but the moment the door shut behind you it felt like someone had turned the volume down. Damiano slipped off his jacket without a word and was suddenly there, all warmth and rough edges, like he’d been made for sheltering you.

He held you against his chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns along the small of your back as he savored the feeling of you in his arms. You could feel his heart beating steadily under the soft fabric of his shirt, a soothing rhythm that seemed to ground him in the moment.

He finally broke the silence, his voice a low murmur.

“I just worry about you, alright? The world can be pretty damn harsh and you… you’re such a soft heart. It’s a beautiful thing, but I don’t want it to get bruised.”

He pulled back slightly to meet your gaze, lifting a hand to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was tender, his eyes filled with a raw vulnerability that only you got to see.

“Promise me something,” he said softly, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “Promise me you’ll start standing up for yourself. Not just for me, but for you too. You deserve to be seen and heard, sweetheart. You can’t keep shrinking yourself to fit into everyone else’s mold.”

Damiano tightened his hold, burying his face in your hair as he inhaled deeply. Your scent was like a balm to his soul, a gentle reminder of everything he loved about you. His voice was thick with emotion as he murmured against your temple.

“Amore… You have no idea what you do to me. How much I need you. I don’t just love you, I adore you. My darling, you have no idea.”

You pressed your forehead to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. For a breath you let yourself be held, then you curled one hand around the hem of his shirt and whispered back, small but steady: “I’ll try. For you. For me.”

He let out a relieved laugh that was almost a sob, and when he smiled it softened the whole room.

“That’s all I ask. Start with tonight — let me carry the weight for a bit. Tell me what happened. Tell me everything, or nothing at all. Just don’t carry it alone.”