Terrible Timing
833 Words
Silence.
Then Damon sighed deeply and stepped back.
Iris burst into laughter first.
Real laughter.
The kind she hadn’t felt in a long time.
And the look on Damon’s face only made it worse.
“She has terrible timing,” he muttered.
“She absolutely saved my life.”
“No,” he corrected calmly, eyes still fixed on her, “she ruined mine.”
Her heartbeat betrayed her immediately.
Again.
God, this man was exhausting.
Upstairs, Clara yelled again.
“IT WAS THE EXPENSIVE SERUM.”
Iris laughed harder while Damon rubbed a hand across his face.
“You should go help her,” Iris managed between laughs.
“She survived eighteen years without me supervising her skincare.”
“That sounds irresponsible.”
A small smile tugged at his mouth before his expression softened again.
And suddenly the laughter faded.
Because the way he was looking at her now—
Warm. Focused. Dangerously patient—
felt far too intimate.
Like he wasn’t upset the moment got interrupted.
Like he knew there would be another one.
That somehow affected her more.
Damon stepped closer again slowly.
Not as close as before.
But enough.
“I’m not letting you escape that easily,” he said quietly.
Iris folded her arms defensively. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You do.”
“Nope.”
“You were about to let me kiss you.”
Heat rushed to her face instantly.
“This conversation feels aggressive.”
A low laugh escaped him.
Then—
“Iris?”
The softness in his voice made her look up automatically.
Big mistake.
Because now he looked serious again.
And somehow serious Damon was the most dangerous version of all.
“I don’t want to hide this anymore.”
Her breath caught slightly.
The words settled heavily between them.
Real.
Final.
No pretending left.
“You mean… us?” she asked quietly.
“Yes.”
The certainty in his answer made her chest tighten unexpectedly.
Because Damon wasn’t someone who said things lightly.
If he wanted something—
He meant it.
“But Clara—”
“Already knows.”
“She also screamed and ran upstairs.”
“She’ll recover.”
Iris bit back a smile.
Then her expression softened slightly.
“You really don’t care what people think?”
Damon looked at her steadily.
“I spent years caring about responsibilities.” His voice lowered slightly. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you because it’s complicated.”
The honesty nearly ruined her.
Because for so long, Iris convinced herself she was alone in this.
That her feelings were one-sided. Embarrassing. Impossible.
And now Damon was standing in front of her looking at her like she was the one impossible thing he’d finally stopped resisting.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
“I should probably be terrified right now,” she admitted softly.
“Are you?”
She looked at him for a long second before answering honestly.
“No.”
Something shifted in his expression at that.
Relief maybe.
Or something deeper.
Then suddenly—
The lights went out.
The entire mansion plunged into darkness.
Iris jumped slightly. “Oh my God.”
Upstairs, Clara screamed.
Again.
“WHY IS THIS HOUSE CURSED TONIGHT?”
Damon looked entirely unbothered.
“Backup generator should turn on in a second.”
It didn’t.
Instead, thunder cracked loudly outside, making the windows shake slightly.
And immediately—
Iris froze.
Damon noticed instantly.
The teasing expression disappeared from his face at once.
“Iris.”
Another flash of lightning lit the room briefly before darkness returned again.
Rain hammered harder against the windows now.
Too loud. Too familiar.
Her breathing tightened slightly before she could stop it.
Damon stepped closer immediately.
“Hey.”
His voice softened completely.
“It’s okay.”
She hated this.
Hated how storms still affected her years later.
Hated how quickly fear crawled back into her chest every single time.
“I know,” she whispered, though her voice sounded tight.
Another thunderclap echoed.
And without thinking—
Her hand grabbed Damon’s shirt instinctively.
Silence followed.
Not from the storm.
From them.
Because the second she realized what she did, embarrassment hit instantly.
“I’m sorry—”
Damon covered her hand gently with his own before she could let go.
“Don’t apologize.”
The warmth of his hand grounded her immediately.
Outside, rain continued pouring heavily.
But Damon stayed completely focused on her.
“You’re shaking.”
“I hate storms.”
“I know.”
The quiet understanding in his voice nearly undid her.
Because he always knew.
Always noticed.
Damon’s thumb brushed lightly across her knuckles.
Small movement.
Comforting.
“I’ve got you,” he said softly.
Three words.
That was all.
Yet somehow Iris felt her entire chest ache hearing them.
Because no one had said something like that to her in a very long time.
And for the first time since the storm started—
She believed it.
- Writer
