He knew that protecting oneself was a natural instinct, a survival mechanism that had been ingrained in humans since the beginning of time.
But he also knew that there was something deeper behind her question, something that she wasn't saying. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves before answering.
"I protected myself because I had to," he said, his voice steady and firm. "It's just what you do when you're in danger." She nodded slowly, still looking at him with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.
He could tell that she wasn't convinced, that there was still something bothering her. He reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Don't worry," he said softly.
"I'll protect you too." She smiled weakly, grateful for his reassurance.
But deep down, she knew that there was only so much he could do. In the end, they were both just two people trying to survive in a world that was becoming increasingly dangerous.
I turned to face Damian, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine as he questioned me.
I felt his eyes on me and quickly looked up, meeting his gaze before shifting my focus back to my hands. As I reached out to touch him, he gently grasped my hands and held them still.
Our eyes met, and I felt a jolt of electricity pass between us. His touch was warm and comforting, yet also intense and commanding.
I couldn't help but feel drawn to him as if he held some kind of power over me. We stood there for a moment, our hands intertwined, lost in each other's gaze. It was a moment I would never forget.
The tension in the room was palpable as she demanded an answer. Her eyes bore into his, searching for any hint of a response.
"Answer me!" she repeated, her voice rising in frustration. He remained silent, his expression unreadable.
The seconds ticked by, each one stretching out into eternity. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he spoke. He snapped, his anger still simmering just beneath the surface. It was as if he hadn't even attempted to calm down.
I replied with a monotone voice, "No reason," as I observed his hand that lingered on mine. Silence filled the room as he remained tight-lipped.
Not a single word escaped his lips, leaving the others in the room to wonder what was going through his mind. The tension was palpable as they waited for him to break the silence, but he remained stoic and unmoved.
After a long silence, he found the courage to speak up.
"You're lying," he said firmly, his eyes fixed on hers.
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, avoiding his gaze. The tension in the room was palpable as they both waited for the other to break the silence.
Finally, she let out a deep sigh and looked up at him.
"I swear I'm not," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. He didn't know what to believe anymore. Was she telling the truth or was this just another one of her lies? He couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.
"I'll find out what happened to you," he muttered, his voice filled with determination. She looked at him with a mixture of confusion and frustration.
The question had caught her off guard, and she wasn't sure how to respond. Why did she care? It was a good question, one that she had been asking herself a lot lately. She took a deep breath and tried to gather her thoughts.
"I care because...because I don't want to see you hurt," she said finally.
It was a simple answer, but it was the truth. She had grown to care for him deeply, and the thought of him suffering in any way was almost unbearable. He looked at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
Finally, he let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't understand why you care so much," he said, his voice softening.
"But I'm glad you do." She smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. It wasn't often that he opened up to her like this, and she cherished these moments when they were able to connect on a deeper level.
"I just want you to be happy," she said, reaching out to take his hand.
"That's all." He squeezed her hand in return, and for a moment, they sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts.
But even as they sat there, she knew that her feelings for him were growing stronger with each passing day. And she couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way.
I couldn't help but utter, my eyes darting up to meet his gaze. I felt a shiver run down my spine as Damian's eyebrow arched inquisitively.
It was as if he was silently questioning my every move, analyzing my every word. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over me as I stood there, under his piercing gaze.
I could feel my heart racing as he raised his hand in the air, ready to strike. I flinched involuntarily, bracing myself for the impact that never came. His hand remained suspended in the air, a cruel reminder of the power he held over me.
Under my breath, I muttered a curse word. "That's why," he replied with a disgusted face. I couldn't quite decipher the source of his disgust. His eyes darted away from mine, and his lips twisted into a grimace.
I couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease. What had I said to elicit such a reaction? I searched my memory, but nothing stood out.
Had I offended him in some way? Or was it something else entirely? His silence was deafening, and I couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his mind. I muttered the words, hoping they would be enough to dissuade any further inquiry.
My gaze was fixed on the world outside, watching as the vehicles rushed by in a blur of color and motion.
It was as if I was trying to escape from the conversation, to find some solace in the chaos of the city streets.
But deep down, I knew that my nonchalance was just a facade, a feeble attempt to hide the turmoil that was brewing inside me.
He looked at her, his heart racing with a mix of fear and confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye.
"I mean that if we're going to spend the rest of our lives together, you should know that I would never lay a hand on you.
I know that some people think that's okay, but it's not. It's never okay to hurt someone you love." He felt a wave of relief wash over him.
He had never been in a relationship where physical violence was a concern, but he knew that it was a sad reality for many people. He was grateful to be with someone who valued respect and kindness above all else.
"I know that," he said, taking her hand in his.
"And I would never hurt you either. I love you too much to ever do something like that." She smiled at him, her eyes shining with love and trust.
"I know you wouldn't," she said. "And that's why I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
He spoke with a tone that suggested he had been keeping his thoughts to himself since our last discussion.
As I sat across from him, I could feel his piercing gaze on me. He seemed to know me better than I knew myself.