TO BE ALONE: a series of måneskin oneshots

champagne and stage presence (d.d.)

As a ballerina myself, I gotta say, the adrenaline of nailing a performance is pretty intoxicating.

TW: rape

The entire world seemed to have stopped when the Eurovision announcer called "Italy."

After that blissful sound, you and your band, Måneskin, were being swept all around. To press interviews and conferences, back to take photos, onto flights. It was seemingly never ending.

As the frontwoman of the group, you obviously had been teasing plenty with your onstage chemistry with the frontman, Damiano David, however nobody, not even your fellow bandmates knew you two had been in a steady relationship almost since you two had met.

You chose to keep your relationship private to, in Damiano's words, "keep something to the imagination."

Both yours and Damiano's makeup was still on, though it was wearing down with time and sweat. You both had long changed out of your leather costumes and into more comfortable street clothes.

The same limousine that ushered the band to their Eurovision performance was the same limousine that took them back to the parking garage where their cars had remained for the past three days. You all left cars there and were whipped around in stretch limos for the rest of the time, it was such an insane whirlwind.

The limousine to the garage and the subsequent car ride home with Damiano were both full of buzzing excitement. Neither one of you could seem to wipe the smiles off of your faces.

However, when Damiano pulled the car into the driveway, the weight of it all seemed to finally hit you.

You suddenly felt the exhaustion, the grumble in your stomach, since the adrenaline from earlier had blocked any sort of appetite you may have had. Your muscles and feet were aching from all the dancing and the platform boots.

You were no longer buzzing.

Damiano, on the other hand, was still sky high. The high of being onstage still coursing through his veins.

You weren't even all the way into your cold, quiet house when Daminano pushed in front of you.

"Bambina, come." He almost commanded. Without hesitation he grabbed at your wrist and pulled you into your shared bedroom.

"What, Dami?" You giggled, feeding off his energy.

Once on the mattress, he pulled you into a passionate kiss. A kiss that made you smile from ear to ear.

"Let me show you how proud of you I am." He whispered right into your ear, nipping softly at it before peppering kisses down your jawline and neck.

You knew where this was headed. Between kisses, you pressed both of your hands flat against his tattooed chest.

"Baby, I love you. Thank you for all the kisses, but not tonight, okay? I'm so tired." You laughed, softly kissing at his lips.

A small frown marked his face as his eyebrows furrowed together. "No." He shook his head. "No, we're gonna celebrate."

Before you had the time to respond, you felt Damiano's hands at the waistline of your leggings.

You didn't understand why he wasn't listening to you. He always respected you. "Damiano, I said to stop!" You tried to push him off you, but as exhausted as you were, you weren't strong enough.

"(Y/N), come on, let's have some fun. We won!" Damiano exclaimed, not even trying to hide the fact that he had successfully stripped you of your leggings.