✴ Damien ✴
The stillness in my penthouse was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the heater. Outside, the city gleamed with its usual hustle and bustle, but the cold grey light of Christmas Day seemed to mute everything. It was as though the city itself had decided to slow down. I sat on the edge of the couch, one hand gripped my phone, the other tugged restlessly at my hair as the silence pressed against me. I had been surprised when Scarlett had called. Her voice had been soft, hesitant, but so painfully familiar it had stirred something I didn’t want to admit. I could still hear the way she had said my name, the way her question – Why did you leave? - had been thick with unspoken emotions. I hadn’t answered her fully then, and even now, hours later, her voice played on repeat in
