The study was dim, the only light coming from flickering candles. Damon poured another drink, his hand barely steady. He stared into the glass, lost in thought.

You stood in the doorway, watching. You’d seen this before. Without a word, you crossed the room and took the bottle from his hand. Damon didn’t even flinch.

“Really?” he muttered, but there was no anger in his tone. Just resignation. You set the bottle down and met his gaze, saying nothing.

Damon looked away. “Why do you care?” You stepped closer, your fingers brushing his jaw. He didn’t stop you. Instead, he pulled you in, lips crashing against hers. The kiss was desperate, full of everything they never said.

When they broke apart, Damon’s forehead rested against yours.

“Don’t do this alone,” you whispered.

And for the first time in a long while, Damon didn’t feel the need to push you away.