The night was still—except for the low rustle of the grass beneath your feet as you walked up the quiet hill, the moon blazing like a silver eye in the ink-black sky.

You felt him before you heard him. The air changed—charged with that familiar, electric pull that only Damon carried. A presence that never asked for permission, only devoured space until he was the center of everything.

"Couldn't sleep either?" you whispered, not turning around.

Damon’s voice was velvet and heat behind you. “I could feel you from the house. Thought the moon might’ve stolen you.”