Damon Salvatore.

5.

The days that followed Damon's revelation were filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. I found myself replaying our conversation over and over, weighing the gravity of what he had asked of me. I was drawn to him in a way that I couldn't fully explain, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this wasn't just about curiosity—it was about trust, and the deep connection that had been building between us.

One evening, after much contemplation, I made my decision. With a racing heart, I texted Damon: "Can we talk? I've made up my mind."

His response was immediate. "Come over tonight."

My nerves were on edge as I made my way to his apartment. I felt a mixture of anticipation and fear, unsure of what would happen next but certain that I wanted to take this step with him. When I arrived, Damon opened the door with that same confident, yet gentle, demeanor that I had come to know. But there was something more in his eyes tonight—an intensity that sent a thrill through me.

"Mya," he greeted, his voice low and warm, "I'm glad you're here."

I stepped inside, taking a deep breath. "Damon, I've thought a lot about what you said. About what you asked."

He nodded, waiting patiently for me to continue.

"And... I want to say yes," I said, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart. "I want to try this—with you."

Damon's eyes darkened with a mix of emotion—desire, relief, and something else I couldn't quite place. He reached out, gently taking my hand in his. "You're sure? This is what you want?"

I nodded, feeling a strange calm wash over me now that the decision was made. "Yes, I'm sure. I trust you, Damon."

His grip tightened slightly on my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "I promise I'll take care of you, Mya. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or want to stop, all you have to do is say the word."

The sincerity in his voice reassured me, and I felt a wave of warmth spread through my chest. This was real. This was happening.

"Okay," I whispered.

Damon led me into the living room, the atmosphere thick with anticipation. He guided me to the couch and sat down beside me, his eyes never leaving mine. "There's one more thing," he said softly. "We need to establish boundaries. What you're comfortable with, what you're not, and a safe word. Something you can say if you need to stop, no questions asked."

I nodded, appreciating his care and attention to detail. "I understand."

After discussing our boundaries and agreeing on a safe word, Damon leaned closer, his eyes searching mine. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," I breathed, my heart racing.

He leaned in, capturing my lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. It was different from the last time—deeper, more intense, as if he was pouring everything he felt into that single moment. I melted into him, feeling the weight of the world slip away as his hands gently cupped my face.

When he pulled back, his gaze was filled with a smoldering heat that made my pulse quicken. "Come with me," he murmured, standing and offering his hand.

I took it without hesitation, letting him lead me down the hallway to his bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting warm shadows across the walls. The bed was neatly made, and everything about the space felt inviting, comforting.

Damon turned to face me, his expression serious yet tender. "Tonight is about trust, Mya. I want you to feel safe with me."

"I do," I replied, and I meant it.