Amara’s POV.
“Damien,” I called him when I noticed him staring at the moon from the chamber’s terrace.
The moon was high up in the sky, casting a silver glow. He clutched the railing as if he was going to snap it.
“Damien,” I called again, and he turned to face me.
I tapped the edge of the bed and motioned for him to sit beside me. He didn’t let me down and walked over to me. With his eyes closed, he laid his head against my shoulder.
“Are you tired?” I asked, trying to catch a glimpse of his face.
He shook his head. “I’m worried.”
“Was that how you felt when I was gone?”
“No, I felt even worse. I thought I was going to die every second I wasn’t able to see you.”
I cracked a smile. I loved hearing his unexpected remarks. It never failed to make me feel good. I could live with it
