It started small. A lighter. A bracelet. Lip balm from the pharmacy. At first, it was just impulse. Something to feel in the places where the numbness had settled too deep.

But it didn’t stop.

Now, you were sitting on the edge of Damiano’s bed, jacket unzipped, fingers curled around a silver ring that definitely didn’t belong to you — a stupid thing, really. From the vintage store near Via Cavour. You hadn’t needed it. You’d just… wanted it. Needed to take something.

And you didn’t even notice when he walked in.

“You know they’ve got cameras in there, right?" He asked, his voice quiet, calm.

Your stomach dropped.

You looked up slowly, the ring still in your palm. He wasn’t angry — not exactly. His face was unreadable, but his eyes… his eyes held all the worry in the world.

“It’s not what you think,” you mumbled, standing up too fast, like maybe you could outrun the conversation if you moved quick enough.

“Then what is it, tesoro?” He took a step closer. Not accusing. Just... tired. “Because this isn’t the first time. And you keep saying it’s nothing, but it looks a lot like something.”

You didn’t answer. Your throat closed up. Shame burned under your skin like poison. Because what could you say? That it calmed the noise? That it gave you control, even if just for a second?

He exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. Then, softer:

“Are you trying to get caught?”

That one hit.

You turned your face away, blinking hard. He stepped closer, then — close enough to take your hand, gently making your fingers open until the ring rolled into his palm. He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at it. Like it held all the answers you refused to give him.

Then he looked at you again. Really looked at you.

“You don’t have to steal things to feel like you exist,” he said quietly. “You’re already enough. Even when you don’t believe it.”

Your lip trembled. You hated how kind he was. Hated that he was still here. But you didn’t stop him when he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you — didn’t fight the way your body finally leaned on him.