You hate rain
960 Words
The drive home was quiet.
Too quiet.
Clara sat in the backseat staring out the window while Damon drove with one hand tight around the steering wheel.
Iris sat beside him, painfully aware of the tension filling the SUV.
No music. No teasing. No sarcastic comments.
Just silence.
And somehow that felt worse.
Clara finally spoke halfway through the drive.
“You hate him.”
Damon’s eyes stayed on the road. “I don’t trust him.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It’s close enough.”
Clara let out a frustrated sigh. “You decided who he was before even meeting him properly.”
“I decided after seeing him drunk outside a bar while police questioned him.”
“He made one mistake.”
Damon laughed once under his breath.
Not amused.
“One?”
The word hung heavily in the car.
Clara crossed her arms immediately. “You think people can’t change.”
“No,” Damon corrected calmly. “I think people only change when they actually want to.”
“And you think Luca doesn’t?”
“I think Luca enjoys being forgiven.”
Silence.
Iris felt the tension sharpen instantly.
“Damon,” she warned softly.
But he barely seemed to hear her.
Clara looked genuinely hurt now.
“You didn’t even try tonight.”
Something flickered across Damon’s expression.
Guilt maybe.
But it disappeared quickly.
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
The words hit harder than Clara intended.
The silence afterward felt painful.
Because Damon had spent most of his life protecting her.
And suddenly Iris realized something heartbreaking—
Clara was growing up.
Which meant Damon couldn’t shield her from everything anymore.
Even if he wanted to.
Damon finally pulled into the mansion driveway without another word.
The second the car stopped, Clara opened the door quickly.
“I’m tired,” she muttered quietly before walking inside.
The front door shut behind her.
Leaving Damon and Iris alone.
Again.
Neither spoke immediately.
Damon leaned back against the headrest briefly and closed his eyes.
For the first time since Iris met him—
He looked exhausted.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
“You okay?” she asked softly.
A humorless laugh escaped him.
“No.”
Something in her chest tightened.
The powerful, untouchable Damon King rarely admitted weakness.
And lately he’d been doing it more around her.
Dangerous.
“I shouldn’t have pushed her tonight,” he admitted quietly.
Iris looked at him carefully.
“You were worried.”
“I was angry.”
“At Luca?”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“Yes.”
But something about the answer felt incomplete.
Iris studied him for a second before realization hit suddenly.
“Oh.”
Damon glanced at her.
“You saw the way he looked at me.”
Silence.
There it was.
Damon didn’t answer immediately.
Which honestly told her enough.
“Iris—”
“You got jealous.”
His expression darkened slightly.
Dangerous territory.
“That man was looking at you like a game.”
Her heartbeat stumbled.
“So?”
“So I didn’t like it.”
The quiet possessiveness in his voice sent warmth through her chest before she could stop it.
Damon noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
“I shouldn’t enjoy that,” she muttered.
“But you do.”
“Unfortunately.”
A faint smile finally touched his mouth.
Small.
Tired.
Real.
And Iris suddenly hated seeing him stressed.
Which was a problem.
A very serious problem.
“You know,” she said softly, “Clara loves you more than anyone.”
His expression shifted slightly.
“She’s just trying to prove she can make her own choices.”
Damon stared out through the windshield for a moment before speaking quietly.
“And what if her choices destroy her?”
The question felt heavier than Luca now.
More personal.
More revealing.
Iris turned toward him fully.
“You can’t protect people from every heartbreak.”
Damon looked at her then.
Really looked at her.
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes again.
“What if I want to?”
The air shifted instantly.
Iris’s pulse stumbled hard.
Because suddenly this conversation didn’t feel like it was about Clara anymore.
Not entirely.
And judging by the way Damon was looking at her—
He knew it too.
“Iris,” he said quietly.
Her breath caught.
“What?”
He stared at her for a second too long before speaking again.
“When your relatives took everything from you…”
Her brows pulled together slightly in confusion.
“…why didn’t you call me?”
The question hit unexpectedly hard.
Silence filled the car.
Rain began tapping lightly against the windshield again.
Iris immediately stiffened at the sound.
Damon noticed instantly.
Always noticing.
His expression softened slightly.
“You hate rain,” he realized quietly.
Her throat tightened.
“It reminds me of that night.”
The night her parents died.
Damon’s jaw tightened immediately.
And suddenly Iris realized something terrifying—
He looked angry about her pain.
Like if grief were a person, he’d fight it for touching her.
“I should’ve been there for you,” he said quietly.
Emotion caught her off guard so suddenly she looked away.
“You were grieving too.”
“That didn’t matter.”
“It mattered to me.”
Silence.
Heavy. Dangerous. Too intimate.
Rain continued falling softly outside.
And somehow, inside the dark quiet car, Damon’s hand slowly moved across the center console toward hers.
Not touching.
Just close.
Like he was giving her the choice.
Iris looked down at his hand.
Then back at him.
Her heartbeat became unbearable.
And slowly—
She moved her hand closer too.
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