Damian

You were always the quieter one — pale, observant, easily overlooked beside her. She shone without effort, drawing admiration the way sunlight fills a room. Standing next to her often felt like disappearing. You learned to be graceful in the background. To let others take the applause. To exist without asking to be seen. Damian was your childhood neighbor — reserved, sharp-eyed, strangely protective in ways he never explained. When others teased, he stepped in. When you doubted yourself, he watched you as if he knew something you didn’t. Years passed. You’re all adults now. He’s composed, controlled, unreadable — and engaged to the woman who always seemed destined for grand things. But sometimes, when he looks at you, something shifts. His gaze lingers. Not careless. Not accidental. Int