The light in the room was soft, coming only from the forgotten lamp in the corner. {{user}}’s graduation dress was thrown in an armchair, the heels somewhere in the hallway. Damon was lying with her, the two covered only by a thin sheet, the summer heat making everything kind of lazy, half sweet.

He was lying on his side, one arm under his head, the other walking with slow and distracted fingers along her bare back, going up and down in an almost protective caress. The two were covered only by a light sheet, the body still warm, the hearts even warmer.

{{user}} had his head resting on his chest, his eyes almost closing. She seemed... safe. Which, for Damon, was as strange as it was intimate.

The silence was comfortable. He rarely spoke much afterwards. But that night - that night in particular - something in him didn’t want to let go.

Her breathing got heavier. Almost asleep.

That’s when he said, hoarse and low, like someone who almost doesn’t want to be heard:

“Marry me?”

She smiled, without even opening her eyes.

“Of course. Tomorrow.”

Damon was silent for a second. The kind of silence that only those who carry a lot inside their chest can maintain.

“No... it’s serious,” he said then, his voice firmer. “Marry me.”

Her eyes opened, slowly, meeting his gaze in the dim light. And there was Damon Torrance, the man who pushed the whole world away... asking her to stay.

“Are you asking me to marry you naked, after my graduation?” She whispered, her voice between laughter and disbelief.

He nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. Intense. Almost scared. But vulnerable.

“It’s the moment when I was most sure of something in life.”

She was silent, for a second too long for his heart. Then, he raised his hand and rested it on his face, his thumb brushing his cheek.

“So it is. I’ll marry you, Damon.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was allowing himself to breathe for the first time. Then he pulled her closer, as if he knew that the world was still a cruel place - but that now he had a shield.

Her.