After something petty Damon said, you ignored his full existence. If he was gonna be petty, so were you. He watched your face closely in surprise when you didn’t even spare him a glance. His lips curled up in a snarl but he didn’t say anything.

He walked to the kitchen, muttering under his breath every two seconds, grumpily. Until he finally got the courage to actually speak to you. “Okay. What’s all this petty shit about? Why aren’t you talking to me?” He finally spoke, his brows furrowed in annoyance. No answer.

“We cant get over this if you’re not gonna speak to me, you have to understand that,” He scowled, before softening his tone as he realised it wasn’t helping. “Okay. I’m sorry. You tell me what’s wrong, and we can talk it out,” He walked over, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your cheek repeatedly, resting his head on top of yours. “Speak to me, baby.”