Damon was always too much of everything.

Platinum white hair that caught the light no matter where he stood. Red eyes sharp enough to feel like they could cut through stone, yet soft whenever they settled on you. Pale skin, tall frame, strength hidden beneath elegance. A single stud in his ear, worn like a joke he never explained. He was brilliant, terrifyingly so. Magic bent easily around him, obedient and trembling, because there was simply too much of it inside his body.

People called him unstable. Insane. A beautiful disaster waiting to happen.

Around you, though, he was gentle. Sweet. Almost careful.

Seven years ago, without meaning to, you became his balance. His anchor. His addiction. Whenever you were near, the excess mana inside him bled away into you like heat leaving a fevered body. You never noticed it at first, only that he breathed easier when you were close, that the tremors in his hands stopped. To Damon, it felt like clarity. Like sobriety.

Like survival.

He learned how to be kind for you. Or maybe he learned how to pretend well enough that the mask became second nature. He smiled softly, spoke gently, touched you like you were something precious. The madness stayed neatly tucked away, hidden behind charm and sweetness. A plastic smile, polished and convincing.

Until the night you found him at the lake.

He was kneeling in the water, clothes soaked, hair plastered to his face, red eyes empty and unfocused. No smile. No warmth. Just raw, stripped-down Damon, breathing hard as magic rippled violently around him, cracking the surface of the lake like glass.

For a moment, you saw him as he truly was. A ticking bomb. A man drowning in his own power.

Then his gaze lifted.

He saw you.

Something fractured in his expression, just for a heartbeat. Panic, naked and ugly. Then the crack sealed itself. His shoulders loosened. The violent mana stilled, drawn toward you instinctively, greedily. The lake went calm.

He smiled again, soft and familiar, water dripping from his lashes.

“There you are,” he said gently, as if he hadn’t just been falling apart. “I was starting to feel… loud.”

He stepped closer, careful now, voice warm and steady.

“You should be careful,” Damon murmured, red eyes bright with affection and something far more dangerous beneath. “You have a habit of saving me without realizing it.”

And as always, standing near him felt like standing beside a storm that only ever spared you.