Aurora stirred awake, the soft morning light streaming through the curtains making her squint. She felt warm, almost too warm, and when she shifted, she realized why. Damian was lying next to her, his dark eyes watching her closely.
Her breath hitched. “You’re awake?” she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep.
He didn’t say anything right away. He just kept staring, his lips curling into a soft smile that she’d never seen before. It wasn’t mocking or cold. It was… real.
“How was your night?” he finally asked, his tone gentle, almost playful.
Aurora blinked, not sure how to respond. “Uh, it was fine. Why?”
Damian chuckled, and the sound made her chest tighten. He was never like this. Not with her, not with anyone. This softness, this ease it wasn’t the Damian she knew.
“You looked peaceful,” he said simply, propping himself up on his elbow. His gaze didn’t leave her face, making her feel both exposed and confused.
“Is something wrong?” she asked cautiously, sitting up a little. The blanket slipped from her shoulders, but she didn’t care. She was too focused on him, on the way he seemed… different.
He shook his head. “No. Nothing’s wrong.” His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. The touch was light, barely there, but it made her heart race. “I just wanted to see you like this. Without all the fear in your eyes.”
Aurora frowned. “You’re scaring me more by being nice.”
Damian laughed again, a genuine laugh this time, and she couldn’t help but stare. He looked so… human. Not the cold, calculating man she’d grown used to.
“You think I can’t be nice?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I think it’s weird,” she admitted, pulling the blanket closer around her. “What’s going on, Damian? Why are you acting like this?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned closer, his face just inches from hers. “Do you ever think about what you’d do if you weren’t here?”
The question caught her off guard. “What do you mean?”
“If you were free,” he clarified, his voice soft but steady. “If you weren’t tied to me, to this house, to this life… what would you want?”
Aurora hesitated. The truth felt too raw to say out loud, but she couldn’t lie to him. Not when he was looking at her like that. “I’d want a normal life. A chance to be happy. To make my own choices.”
Damian nodded, his expression unreadable. “And do you think you’d ever be happy without knowing the truth about why you’re here?”
Her stomach twisted. “What truth?”
He sighed, leaning back against the headboard. “Forget I said anything.”
“No,” she said quickly, sitting up fully now. “You can’t just say that and leave it. Tell me, Damian. What truth?”
“I said forget it, Aurora.” His tone was sharper now, the softness slipping away.
She bit her lip, frustrated but knowing better than to push him. “Fine,” she muttered, lying back down.
For a moment, there was silence between them. She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. But then she felt his hand on hers, his fingers warm and steady.
“I don’t want you to hate me,” he said quietly.
Aurora turned to look at him, surprised. “Why would you care if I hate you?”
Damian didn’t answer. He just stared at her, his dark eyes filled with something she couldn’t name. “Get some rest,” he said instead, his voice softer again.
“I just woke up,” she pointed out, confused.
He smirked. “Then stay here with me for a while. No questions, no arguments. Just… stay.”
Aurora hesitated but eventually nodded. She let herself relax, her head resting on the pillow. Damian lay back down too, his arm draping over her waist.
As much as she hated to admit it, it felt… safe. Comfortable.
But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t last. It never did.