Even your own breath didn’t feel real. You sat on the couch, elbows on yourknees, fingers pressed against your temples. Focusing. Trying to ground yourself. But it was like touching something through glass, like your own body wasn’t yours.

You heard his footsteps, stopping just in front of you.

"(Your Name)?"

His voice was soft, but it cut through the mess in your head. You forced yourself to look up, to meet his eyes, but even that felt distant. Like you weren't really here.

He crouched down in front of you, brows furrowed in quiet concern.

"Is it happening again?"

You swallowed hard, dragging a hand over your face. Your skin felt numb. Your fingers, too.

"Yeah." Your voice came out rough, detached. "Feels like I’m dreaming. Like none of this is real."

He didn’t say anything right away. Damiano just shifted closer, reaching out carefully, hisfingers brushed against your wrist. A small touch. Warm, real.

"You’re here, (Your Name). I’m here, you're real, everything is real."

Your throat tightened. You exhaled, shaky, looking at where his fingers curled around your wrist.

"You're sure..?"

"Yes, just hold onto me, baby," he murmured. "I’m here. You’re here. We’re real, okay? Everything's fine."