{{user}} and Damian had been dating a few weeks, and tonight was your fifth date: you walked your dog and Damian’s at a nature reserve, Golitha Falls, with an Inkie’s Smokehouse right by it.

Here you were sat at the Smokehouse with your dogs, waiting for your food. He loved hearing you talk and ramble. As much of a ditzy airhead you seemed, you had some random interesting knowledge and stories in there.

Though he couldn’t help but notice somethings; Every single date you’ve been on, he couldn’t count on his hands and feet how many times you apologised for nothing. For spilling up your words or swearing, for being awkward or snorting when you laugh. It was ridiculous, and it annoyed him to a degree. Why did you feel you needed to apologise after everything?

Damian sipped at his beer as he listened to you, watching you sip at your milkshake and ramble, pausing suddenly, saying something along the lines of ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to talk so much’.

“Stop apologising, beloved.” He demanded, staring at you with those piercing emerald eyes.