Damon Salvatore.

18.

⚠️Warning! This book is for 16 and older so if your under 16 and reading this don't report this i gave a warning and told you not to read it. Everything in the book is consensual not real and should not be read by kids 16 and under⚠️

The days following the accident were a blur of pain, medications, and hospital visits. Each day, Damon remained by my side, his presence a constant source of comfort and strength. The crash had left me with several bruised ribs, a fractured leg, and a concussion. Recovery would be slow, and the physical therapy ahead was daunting, but having Damon with me made everything a little more bearable.

My hospital room became a haven of sorts, filled with the scent of flowers, get-well cards, and the soft murmur of Damon's voice. He made sure to bring me my favorite snacks, read to me from books I couldn't quite focus on, and hold my hand through the long, sleepless nights.

One afternoon, as I was resting and trying to adjust to the pain medication's drowsy effects, Damon walked in with a soft smile. He held a bouquet of sunflowers, their bright yellow petals a cheerful contrast to the sterile white of the hospital room.

"Look what I got for you," he said, placing the flowers in a vase by my bedside. "I thought they might brighten up the place a bit."

I smiled weakly, touched by the gesture. "They're beautiful, Damon. Thank you."

He took a seat beside me, his hand brushing mine in a comforting gesture. "How are you feeling today?" he asked gently, his eyes full of concern.

"Better," I said softly. "The pain is still there, but the medication helps. Mostly, I'm just tired."

He nodded, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on the back of my hand. "I'm glad you're feeling a bit better. You've been so strong through all of this."

I sighed, trying to find the right words. "It's been a lot to handle. I keep thinking about how close I came to... not making it."

Damon's expression grew serious, his eyes darkening with emotion. "You're here, and that's what matters. I've been so worried about you, Mya. I can't imagine my life without you."

I felt a lump rise in my throat, the weight of his words settling heavily in my heart. "I'm grateful to be here. To be with you."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, one step at a time."

I nodded, feeling a sense of comfort in his words. "Thank you, Damon. I couldn't ask for a better person to be by my side."

He smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "You mean the world to me, Mya. I'm just glad I can be here for you."

Over the next few weeks, as I recovered and began physical therapy, Damon's unwavering support became my anchor. The road to recovery was long and arduous, but he was always there, encouraging me and helping me through every step.

One evening, as I was sitting up in bed with my leg elevated, Damon brought in a tray of food, his expression bright and cheerful. "I thought you might like a little treat," he said, setting the tray down beside me.

I looked at the tray, surprised to see a selection of my favorite comfort foods—macaroni and cheese, chocolate pudding, and a small salad. "This looks amazing," I said, reaching for the macaroni. "You really know how to spoil me."

He grinned, sitting down beside me. "I just want to make sure you're comfortable and happy. You've been through so much, and you deserve to be pampered."

As I ate, we talked about everything and nothing—our plans for the future, our dreams, and even the mundane details of everyday life. It was comforting to focus on these normal things, to let go of the worries and fears that had dominated my thoughts.

After dinner, Damon helped me with my physical therapy exercises, guiding me through the movements with patience and encouragement. The exercises were difficult, often leaving me exhausted and sore, but his presence made the process more manageable.

At the end of the day, as I lay in bed and the pain began to fade into the background, Damon stayed with me, his hand resting on mine. "How are you holding up?" he asked softly.

"I'm okay," I said, giving him a small smile. "It's been tough, but I'm getting there. Thanks to you."

He squeezed my hand gently, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "We're a team, Mya. We'll get through this together."

As I drifted off to sleep, I felt a deep sense of peace. Despite the challenges and the pain, I knew that I was not alone. Damon's love and support were the guiding lights through this difficult time, and with him by my side, I felt ready to face whatever came next.