(𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨) he never talks about it, but you noticed something: every time damiano feels overwhelmed— before a flight, after a panic attack, in the middle of the night after a nightmare— he puts on one specific, random, unexpected song.

it’s not måneskin. not rock. not too famous. it’s a soft, almost-forgotten acoustic track by some indie artist. he never explains why.

you looked it up once. quiet guitar. lyrics like a lullaby. you memorized it. just in case.

one night, you find yourselves in a glass elevator in tokyo on the 30th floor. he's trying to keep it together— jaw tight, hands clenched. he tries to hide it. always does. but you see it in his eyes: the spiral starting.

"why the fuck did we take the glass one?" he says.

"it was the only one not packed, love. you’re okay." you walk up behind him. slide your hands around his chest. press your lips to his shoulder and, quietly, start singing that exact song.

"there is a house built out of stone, wooden floors, walls and window sills..." you softly hum the lyrics.

he goes still. like really still.

"how do you…?" he whispers.

you rest your cheek on his back. "i listened. you always played it when you thought i wasn’t watching.”