Winter's POV
The tension from our heated moment lingered long after Damon left the room. I sat on the couch, still catching my breath, my fingers gripping the edge of the cushion as if it could anchor me. Everything between us—the anger, the fear, the guilt—had culminated into that one raw, undeniable act. My lips still tingled from his kiss, my skin alive with the memory of his touch.
But as the silence crept back in, so did reality. I wasn’t naïve enough to think that what had just happened solved anything. If anything, it made things messier. The weight of everything we faced felt heavier now, the stakes higher.
I leaned back, closing my eyes and pressing the heels of my palms against them. Maybe if I stayed here long enough, I could pretend the world outside this room didn’t exist.
