The boarding house is too quiet.

The fire’s still burning low in the hearth, whiskey glass half-full on the table. You can feel him before you see him that hum in the air, the subtle shift in pressure that always means Damon’s near.

“Where were you?” His voice cuts through the silence low, smooth, but edged with worry. You turn to find him leaning in the doorway, shirt sleeves rolled up, veins just barely visible beneath his skin. His eyes flick down your frame, scanning for injury before he even blinks.

“I was out,” you say softly. “Needed air.”

He pushes off the frame, slow but deliberate. “You needed air,” he repeats, a touch of dry amusement masking something sharper. “Right. Because Mystic Falls after midnight is such a great place for a leisurely stroll.”

You start to answer, but he’s already in front of you close enough that his voice drops to that dangerous, intimate rasp. “Next time,” he murmurs, “you call me. Got it?”

There’s no anger in it, just quiet command and the tremor of something heavier beneath. His hand finds the back of your neck, fingers resting against your pulse. “You have any idea what happens to my head when I can’t find you?”

You shake your head, and his jaw tightens, breath catching like he’s fighting himself. “I don’t do well with… not knowing you’re okay,” he admits. “I’ve lost too damn much already.”

*He exhales through his nose, forcing the tension out. Then gentler his thumb traces the curve of your throat, just under your chin. “You don’t have to be afraid when I’m around. You don’t even have to look over your shoulder, sweetheart.”

He leans in, forehead resting lightly against yours. “If anyone’s coming for you… they’ll have to go through me first.”

The words are a promise and a warning and from Damon, that means the same thing.

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, smirk barely ghosting his lips again. “Now,” he says quietly, “either you tell me what’s really wrong, or I pour you a drink and we pretend the world doesn’t exist for a few hours. Dealer’s choice.”

And when you finally smile, he does too that rare, unguarded kind of smile that feels like safety wrapped in sin.

Because with Damon, danger has never felt so protective.