The night settled over the mansion like a heavy blanket, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.
Eliana sat on the edge of her bed, her heart tight in her chest. Damon had been distant all evening—his silence sharp, his gaze unreadable.
She couldn't take it anymore.
Slipping out of her room, she descended the grand staircase, her bare feet soundless against the marble floors. She found him in the study, seated in the leather chair, the glow of a single desk lamp casting deep shadows across his face.
"You're still awake," she said softly.
He glanced up, startled but composed. "Couldn't sleep."
She stepped in, hesitant but determined. "Neither can I. Damon, what's going on with you? You've been so far away. I can feel it."
He let out a low sigh, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "It's nothing you need to worry about."
Her chest tightened. "Don't do that," she whispered. "Don't shut me out. I'm tired of people keeping secrets from me. I deserve to know what's going on."
Damon's gaze flickered, but he stayed silent.
"Talk to me," she pleaded, her voice breaking.
He rose from the chair, the air shifting with his movements. "Eliana, some things are better left unsaid until the right time."
She shook her head, angry and hurt. "When is the right time, Damon? When something happens to me again? When it's too late?"
Without waiting for an answer, she turned, storming toward the door.
"Eliana, stop," Damon called out, his voice sharp.
She didn't slow down.
His voice rose, commanding. "Stop! It's late, it's not safe."
She froze, her hand on the door.
Turning slowly, her eyes blazed with emotion. "What are you going to do, Damon? Lock me up again? Imprison me in this mansion for my own safety?"
That struck deep.
Damon's expression shifted, wounded yet defensive. He crossed the space between them with deliberate steps.
"I'm not trying to imprison you," he said, voice low and intense. "I'm trying to protect you. Because you keep putting yourself in danger, because you're too stubborn to see what's really out there."
Tears welled in her eyes, her body trembling.
"I'm not stubborn," she whispered, voice shaking. "I'm scared. I'm so tired of being afraid, Damon. Tired of pretending I'm not."
His heart clenched at the sight of her vulnerability.
"Eliana..." His voice softened, laced with regret.
She looked up at him, her tears shining. "Why? Why are you so bent on protecting me? What is it you're not saying?"
His breath hitched, his hand gently lifting her chin.
"Because I love you," he said, his voice rough with honesty.
Her breath caught.
Before she could speak, before her lips could even shape his name, Damon closed the distance, claiming her mouth in a fierce, desperate kiss.
She gasped into him, her hands instinctively gripping his shirt as their bodies pressed together. Heat flared between them, their kiss deepening with every heartbeat.
Outside, under the faint glow of the moon, they lost themselves in each other.
His hands roamed her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Her fingers tangled in his hair as his lips moved to her jaw, down her neck.
"Damon..." she whispered, breathless.
He groaned softly against her skin, his voice husky. "You're driving me insane."
They were so caught in their whirlwind of desire that neither noticed the footsteps approaching.
"Sir," Bennett's voice broke through, awkward and apologetic.
They pulled apart instantly, their faces flushed, breath ragged.
"Apologies," Bennett said, eyes cast down. "Just doing my rounds."
Damon's jaw tensed. "Understood."
Without another word, Damon took Eliana's hand firmly, leading her inside.
Once inside, he paused by her door, his thumb brushing her cheek, gaze dark with lingering desire.
"Goodnight, Eliana," he whispered, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips.
She stood there, heart pounding, as he reluctantly walked away to his room.
Minutes later, Damon sat on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair, still tasting her on his lips.
A soft knock broke the silence.
He opened the door to find Eliana standing there, eyes wide and uncertain, yet burning with the same need he felt.
"Eliana," he murmured, his voice rough. "Is something wrong?"
She said nothing.
Instead, she reached up, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss that left no room for doubt.
"I want you," she whispered against his lips.
Damon's restraint snapped.
He pulled her inside, shutting the door with a quiet click before pressing her back against it.
Their mouths collided, frantic and urgent, hands roaming without hesitation.
Her fingers slipped beneath his shirt, tugging it over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest. His hands traced her curves, finding the zipper of her nightdress and slowly pulling it down.
The fabric slid off her shoulders, pooling at her feet.
"You're beautiful," he breathed, his voice reverent.
Her hands trembled as she traced the lines of his muscles, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her palms.
He lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to the bed, laying her down as if she were something precious.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his gaze searching hers.
"Yes," she whispered, her eyes shining with trust and desire.
Their lips met again, slower this time, savoring every moment.
His hands were gentle yet firm, exploring her with worshipful care, as if learning every inch of her anew.
Their bodies moved together, every touch igniting something deeper, every kiss leaving them breathless.
They whispered each other's names, soft confessions mingling with gasps and sighs.
In the quiet of the night, surrounded by only the sound of their shared heartbeat, they became one.
Hours later, Damon lay awake, holding Eliana close, her head resting on his chest.
He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, his heart full yet burdened by the weight of what was still to come.
"I'll protect you," he whispered into the darkness.
She stirred slightly in her sleep, her face serene, and he couldn't help but tighten his hold.
For tonight, at least, they had each other.
But Damon knew morning would bring more shadows.