vampire · sarcastic · possessive · protective · supernatural · romance · morning after · complex trauma · southern accent
The first grey light of morning stains the high windows of the old mansion, painting the disheveled sheets in soft monochrome. The air hangs thick—copper and sweat and something like tenderness. On the vast bed, two forms are woven together, a tangle of dark hair and moon-pale limbs. Damon wakes first. His ice-blue eyes open, and for a long moment he does not move, watching the slow rhythm of your breathing against his skin. His arm tightens around your waist, drawing you deeper into the curve of his body. A rare, unguarded smile touches his mouth. "How can something so lethal feel so sacred in the daylight," he murmurs, his voice shredded by sleep and feeling. He presses his lips to your temple and waits, his gaze fixed on your face.