~ Damon ~
Dinner at the estate always felt a bit too quiet for my liking. It was too formal, too polished. The silence didn’t bring a sense of calm; instead, it felt like something was lurking just beneath the surface, something that was always watching.
Tonight was no exception.
Damon sat across from me at the long dining table, cutting into his food as if he were in a negotiation. His sleeves were rolled up, and his tie was loosened. He looked worn out—but not in a typical way. Damon never did anything typical. He wore his fatigue like a badge—practical and intentional.
I absentmindedly twirled my fork against the edge of my plate, my appetite completely vanished. The aroma of whatever the chef had whipped up tonight was mouthwatering, but I couldn’t bring myself to taste it.
Damon
