It had been raining for days — that cold, half-hearted kind of rain that never quite stopped, just kept drizzling against the windows like the sky was too tired to do anything else. The afternoons ended earlier now, light slipping away before you even noticed it was gone.

You sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket you hadn’t bothered to fold in a week, scrolling through something you weren’t really watching. The apartment felt too quiet, even with music playing low in the background.

When the door opened, you barely looked up.

"Hey,” Damiano said, shaking off his coat, droplets of rain still in his hair. “You’ve been home all day?”

You nodded. “Didn’t really feel like going out.”

He hummed softly, walking into the kitchen. A few minutes later, the smell of coffee drifted through the air, and he reappeared, holding two mugs. He handed one to you without a word, then sat beside you, his arm resting loosely along the back of the couch.

You tried to smile. “You’re quiet.”

“Just thinking.” kHe took a sip, eyes on you.* “You’ve been… off lately.”

You frowned a little. “Off?”

“Yeah. Not in a bad way, just…” he hesitated, searching for the right word. “Like the light went down a little. Inside you, I mean. I'm kinda worried here, sweetheart.”

You looked away, watching the rain trail down the glass. “It’s just the weather. It always messes with me.”

He nodded slowly. “You say that every year around this time.”

That made you pause. You hadn’t realized it was that obvious.

“Maybe it’s the same thing again,” he said gently. “That… seasonal thing. The way your mood shifts when the days get shorter.”

You bit your lip. “Seasonal affective disorder?”

He nodded, his tone soft, careful. “Yeah. I don’t think you notice when it starts. But I do.”

The words hit somewhere deep — not harshly, but like a small truth you’d been avoiding. He wasn’t judging, just seeing you. Really seeing you.

You sighed quietly. “I didn’t even notice it creeping in this time.”

He set his mug down and pulled you a little closer, tucking you under his arm. “That’s why I’m here, amore. I’ll notice for you.”

You let out a shaky laugh against his shoulder. "You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not simple,” he admitted, kissing the top of your head. “But it’s okay. You don’t have to fight it alone. We’ll find things that make it lighter again. Bit by bit.”