HIDDEN (FIGHT OR FLIGHT)

Chapter 12

DAMON'S P.O.V.

I leaned my head against the door, pressing my palms flat against it as if that would somehow push the pain out of my chest, as if the wood between us could absorb my turmoil. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat like a punch that rattled through my ribs. Bear's voice on the other side was distant, like it was coming from underwater.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” I’d spat out, my voice trembling, but I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince. Him, or me. The heat coursing through my veins was suffocating, crawling beneath my skin like fire ants. I clenched my fists, trying to push it down, trying to push everything down.

I heard him again, his voice louder this time—desperate, angry. “Damon, open this door! I swear, if you don’t open it, I’ll break it down!”

For a second, the rage flared in me. I wanted to tell him to try, to go ahead and break it down. I wanted him to feel the force of my anger, my confusion, my fear. But beneath that anger was something else, something that scared me even more. His panic. It was seeping through the cracks, his fear tangible, wrapping around me like a noose tightening with every passing second.

And it hit me. Bear was panicking—for me. Not for himself, but for me. The thought cracked something inside me, something fragile that I’d been holding onto for too long. I hated it. I hated that he was out there, worrying, feeling desperate because of me. I hated that I cared.

I pressed my forehead harder against the door, the coolness grounding me for a moment. My breath was ragged, shaky. The fire inside me raged on, but the panic in his voice... I couldn’t ignore it. My body trembled, and I reached for the doorknob before I even realized what I was doing.

When the door creaked open, the world seemed to tilt, everything shifting in slow motion. And then—he was there. Bear. His eyes wide with concern, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. He looked at me like I was something precious that might shatter any second.

Before I could react, he closed the distance between us. His arms wrapped around me like a vise, pulling me in so tightly that I could barely breathe. My first instinct was to pull away, to shove him back and tell him to leave me alone. But the heat—the fire that had been burning through me—it flickered, dimmed. I could feel his warmth, his solid frame, and it was like a dam broke inside me.

"You're okay," Bear murmured into my ear, his voice soft but firm. "I've got you, Damon. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere."

His words were like a balm to the chaos inside me. I stood there, frozen at first, unsure of what to do with my hands, unsure of how to be in this moment. But his arms were strong around me, steady, unyielding. Slowly, so slowly, I let my guard down, just a little. I let my forehead fall against his shoulder, and my hands—shaking, uncertain—clutched at his shirt, as if holding onto him would keep me from falling apart completely.

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” Bear whispered, his voice like a steady rhythm, grounding me. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

His warmth seeped into me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the fire beneath my skin cooled just enough for me to breathe. My mind, which had been spiraling, began to slow down. I could think. I could feel.

I swallowed hard, trying to force the lump in my throat back down. But it stayed. The weight of it all—the fear, the confusion, the hurt—it was too much, and I couldn't hold it back anymore. The tears came, hot and unbidden, slipping down my cheeks and soaking into Bear’s shirt. I hated it. I hated that I was crying, that I was breaking in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” I croaked out, my voice hoarse and barely audible. I wasn’t even sure what I was apologizing for. For pushing him away? For letting him see me like this? For being so goddamn broken?