Beautiful Mistakes
703 Words
The restaurant Damian took her to was nearly empty.
Private. Quiet. Far too intimate.
Soft golden lighting reflected against black marble walls while rain continued falling outside the tall windows. The hostess greeted Damian immediately, nervous enough that Isabella noticed.
People reacted to him strangely.
Like they respected him…
but feared him more.
Their table sat in the back corner away from everyone else. Hidden.
Of course.
Damian pulled out her chair for her before sitting across from her, dark eyes fixed on her face with the same unbearable intensity as always.
“You keep staring,” Isabella murmured.
“I know.”
“At least you’re self-aware.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
“You’re wearing my patience very thin tonight.”
Heat climbed into her cheeks.
God.
Even harmless comments sounded dangerous coming from him.
A waiter approached nervously, taking their orders quickly before disappearing almost immediately.
The second they were alone again, Damian leaned back slightly in his chair.
“You’re nervous,” he observed.
“You make people nervous.”
“You’re not people.”
Her pulse betrayed her instantly.
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly at her reaction.
“You enjoy this too much.”
“Watching you lose composure?” His gaze darkened. “Very much.”
Isabella looked down at the table briefly, trying to ignore the tension curling tightly in her stomach.
This dinner already felt less like a date…
and more like surrender.
“Tell me something,” Damian said quietly.
“What?”
“What were you like before the world disappointed you?”
The question caught her off guard.
She blinked. “That’s oddly specific.”
“Answer me anyway.”
Isabella hesitated.
Nobody usually asked about her. Not really.
But Damian studied her like every answer mattered.
“I used to be louder,” she admitted softly. “Less careful.”
His expression remained focused.
“What changed?”
“My father.”
Bitterness crept into her voice before she could stop it.
“He was never cruel exactly,” she continued. “Just cold. Nothing was ever enough for him.”
Damian’s eyes darkened with recognition.
“He made you earn affection.”
She looked at him sharply.
“How did you know that?”
“Because I recognize survival.”
The words settled heavily between them.
Isabella suddenly realized how dangerous this connection truly was.
Damian understood the ugliest parts of her without explanation.
And she understood him too.
Broken people always recognized each other.
The waiter returned briefly with wine and food before disappearing again.
Neither of them touched the meal immediately.
They were too busy watching each other.
“You know,” Isabella said carefully, “normal people usually talk about hobbies on dates.”
“This isn’t a normal date.”
“No,” she murmured. “It really isn’t.”
Damian picked up his wine glass slowly, eyes never leaving hers.
“You still haven’t told me what you’re afraid of.”
She frowned slightly. “You.”
“That’s not the real answer.”
Silence stretched.
Then quietly—
“I’m afraid of needing someone.”
Something shifted in his expression instantly.
Like the confession physically affected him.
“Why?”
“Because people leave.”
The words came out softer than intended.
Too honest.
Damian stared at her for several seconds before speaking.
“I wouldn’t.”
Her breath caught.
“You can’t promise that.”
“Yes,” he said quietly, “I can.”
The certainty in his voice unsettled her.
People always promised forever before disappearing anyway.
Maybe Damian sensed her doubt because his expression hardened slightly.
“You think I’m like everyone else.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No.” His gaze intensified. “Everyone else leaves when things become difficult.”
He leaned slightly closer across the table.
“I become worse.”
A shiver slipped down her spine.
Not because the words sounded threatening.
Because they sounded true.
Damian wasn’t the kind of man who walked away from things he loved.
He held on until it became destruction.
And the terrifying part?
Some broken part of her wanted to be loved exactly like that.
- Writer
