EUPHORIA

A quiet Night

(sorry the version I posted before I didn't like)

The room was dim, only lit by the soft, golden glow of the bedside lamp, and the steady hum of the night outside. Raven sat on the edge of the bed, her legs tucked beneath her, absently scrolling through her phone. Damian was asleep beside her, his body sprawled out in a way that she rarely saw—completely at ease, his usual tension and alertness gone. It was strange to see him like this, so vulnerable, but it also brought a sense of calm over her. She was used to him being strong and focused, never allowing himself to fully relax, but now, in his sleep, he appeared like a completely different person.

Her eyes drifted from the phone in her hands to his sleeping form. He was shirtless, something she’d gotten used to over the years—he never cared much about his shirt when it came to sleeping. As her gaze moved over him, she couldn’t help but notice the scars that marked his skin. They were scattered across his back and arms, remnants of the battles he’d fought and the life he’d lived long before they met.

She had always known about the scars—he never hid them—but tonight, for some reason, they seemed to stand out more than ever. Each one told a story, each one a reminder of the pain he’d endured, the battles he’d fought, and the sacrifices he’d made. Raven’s fingers twitched, an urge to reach out, to trace each scar, but she held herself back.

Her eyes lingered on one scar in particular—a long, jagged line that ran down his back, starting just below his neck and trailing down to the middle of his spine. It was a scar she had never asked him about, and, up until now, she had never felt the need to. But tonight, for some reason, it called to her.

Her hand hovered in the air for a moment, before she slowly reached out, her fingers just brushing against the scar. She wanted to understand what it meant, how it had come to be, but she didn’t want to push him. He was always so guarded when it came to his past, and Raven knew better than to ask questions he wasn’t ready to answer.

As her fingers gently traced the scar, a soft movement beside her caught her attention. Damian shifted in his sleep, his hand automatically reaching out, brushing against her side as he unconsciously moved closer to her.

Raven froze for a moment, her breath catching in her throat. He didn’t say anything, but his actions spoke volumes. It was as though he was telling her without words, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. The gesture was so subtle, so instinctive, but Raven couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotion.

Damian shifted again, his arm curling around her waist, pulling her closer in his sleep. She let out a quiet sigh, both relieved and grateful. He always tried to shield her from the weight of his past, but she knew him well enough to see through the walls he put up. Even when he was asleep, his body seemed to say what his mouth wouldn’t.

Raven closed her eyes, settling into his embrace, her head resting against his chest. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The world outside could wait. In that silence, she felt safe, surrounded by the steady beat of his heart and the comforting warmth of his presence.

It wasn’t just the comfort of being with him that eased her mind—it was the way he held her, even in sleep, as if he was silently reassuring her that everything would be alright.

After a few moments, she allowed herself to relax, the weight of the day lifting as she let herself drift off to sleep. There would always be battles to fight, scars to bear, but in this moment, with Damian beside her, Raven found peace. And that was enough.