Winter’s POV
The morning sun passed through the curtains of Damon’s living room, casting a warm glow on the hardwood floors. It was my first time in his house, and I wasn’t sure what I expected, but the space was surprisingly modest for someone of his stature.
Clean lines, neutral tones, and just enough personal touches to make it feel lived-in without being overbearing. I stood in the center of the room, the therapy equipment I’d brought neatly arranged in front of me. Damon sat on the couch, his crutches leaning against the armrest, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“Nice place you've got here,” I said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. He shrugged, his gaze swiftly shifting to the floor. “It’s home.” There was a weight in his voice, a hint of some unspoken worr
