Damien’s POV:
I told myself I shouldn't go back to her room. I stood outside my office, my hands tight. I had checked on her twice already. She was safe. She needed space. But every time I blinked, I saw her faint. I felt her cold body in my arms. My chest felt like it was tearing open.
She was scared of me. She hated me.
But I kept walking. My feet moved on their own, taking me down the hall. They belonged to her now. I stopped at her door. I forced myself to breathe.
If she was resting, I would leave. If she was afraid, I would help. If she looked at me with that fear again… I could handle hate…. But not her fear ,never hers.
I opened the door quietly, and there she was. Sitting on the floor, drawing. The lamp made her brown hair glow like honey. She looked so peaceful. My chest ea
