Damiano’s fingers traced slow, absentminded patterns on your back. You were curled against him, wrapped in sheets that smelled like him mixed with swear. Your heartbeat had finally calmed, but the world still felt a little hazy, your body pleasantly heavy.

“You okay?” His voice was softer than usual, a quiet murmur against your temple.

You nodded, pressing your cheek against his warm chest.

His hand moved to your hair, combing through it with lazy, soothing strokes. “You need anything?”

You shook your head, too comfortable to form words. He chuckled under his breath, shifting just enough to pull the blanket higher around you.

A moment passed before he spoke again, quieter this time. “You sure, honey?”