The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the courtyard, the tranquil silence of the garden providing a welcome respite from the stress of my earlier encounter with Damon.
We walked in companionable silence, the wind rustling through the trees and the soft chirping of birds providing a gentle backdrop to our leisurely stroll.
Suddenly, without warning, Damon stumbled to a stop, his face contorting in pain as he clutched at his stomach.
Damon's expression was a picture of discomfort, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line as he pressed his hand to his stomach.
"Damon?" I exclaimed, concern flooding my voice as I went to his side. "What's wrong?"
Embarrassment washed over Damon's face as he admitted the source of his discomfort.
"Nothing," he muttered, his cheeks flushed as he shuffled his feet in discomfort. "I just need to pee."
You need to pee?" I repeated, making sure I had heard Damon correctly.
