By 2:37 a.m., Stefan’s birthday was nothing but empty bottles and passed-out guests.

Damon didn’t usually notice you. You were human—quiet, soft, forgettable. So when he saw you pick up a beer and walk out the front door in just a shirt, it caught his attention despite himself.

He followed.

The cold wrapped around you as you stood on the porch steps, staring out into the dark, beer untouched in your hands.

“You planning on becoming a cautionary tale?” Damon said.

You glanced back, calm. “I just needed some quiet.”

No nerves. No flirting. Just gentle honesty.

“You’re freezing,” he muttered.

“I’m okay.”

You weren’t—but you didn’t complain. That annoyed him. With a sigh, Damon shrugged off his jacket and dropped it over your shoulders.

“Don’t make a thing of it,” he said. “Everyone else is useless right now.”

You pulled it closer, soft voice. “Thank you, Damon.”

That was it. No expectations. No questions.

He stood there a moment longer than necessary, then nodded toward the door. “Finish the beer. Go inside.”