I wake up with a jolt, my heart racing as if I've just run a marathon. The dream—no, the memory—lingers at the edges of my mind. Damon's face, his hands on me, his words... they feel like they're imprinted on my skin. I sit up in bed, my breathing heavy as I try to push the images away. It's not real. It can't be.
But the truth is, it is real. And I'm not sure I can keep denying it.
The sound of my phone vibrating on the nightstand pulls me from my thoughts. My eyes dart to the screen, and I curse under my breath when I see his name. Damon.
I'm not ready to deal with him yet. I've spent all night convincing myself that the things I feel for him are just some twisted reflection of our past, that I'm caught up in his game, in his manipulation.
I reach for the phone, hesitating for a moment, then swipe to decline the call. The instant the screen goes dark, my chest tightens. I could've ignored him. But I couldn't.
I don't know what's wrong with me. Every time I push him away, it feels like I'm falling deeper into the trap.
A knock on the door breaks through my spiraling thoughts, sending a chill through my body. I don't need to check the peephole to know who it is. Damon. It's always Damon.
I don't want to see him. I don't want to face him. But I can't avoid him forever. Not when his presence is starting to feel like an extension of me.
Taking a deep breath, I swing the door open, already bracing myself for whatever is coming. But Damon doesn't immediately enter. He stands in the doorway, looking at me with that same unreadable expression. The intensity in his eyes is there, but it's mixed with something else now—something darker. Something concerned.
"Ella..." His voice is low, and the way he says my name makes my pulse quicken. "We need to talk."
I take a step back, pulling the door wider, unwilling to let him see the way my heart races in his presence. "What's there to talk about?" I try to sound indifferent, but it's harder than I thought.
His eyes narrow slightly, and I see the flicker of frustration in his gaze. "Don't pretend like this isn't tearing you up inside."
"I'm fine," I say, but my voice cracks, betraying me. I don't know why I keep trying to lie to him. Maybe it's because I want to believe it myself. I want to believe that I'm still in control, that I haven't already started falling apart.
Damon steps inside, his presence filling the room as if it's impossible to escape. The air seems to thicken with every inch he moves toward me.
"No, you're not fine," he says, his voice softer this time. "I can see it in your eyes. You're conflicted. You're scared of what's between us."
I don't want to admit it. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he's right. But he is. And that truth gnaws at me, pulling me in deeper.
"I'm not scared," I say, though my words feel hollow. "I just don't want to be part of your mess, Damon. I've been down that road before."
He doesn't move, doesn't take a step closer. Instead, he lets out a breath, his gaze softening just slightly. "I'm not asking you to be part of anything, Ella. I'm asking you to stop running from what's happening between us."
I open my mouth to argue, to tell him that I don't want this, that I can't do this, but the words die on my lips. Because I do feel it. The pull, the heat, the connection. And no matter how much I try to deny it, it's there. It's real.
Damon steps closer, his hand reaching for mine. I don't pull away, not this time. His fingers brush against mine, and for a moment, everything in the world fades.
"I know you're scared," he says quietly. "I get it. But I need you to trust me, Ella. For once, just trust me."
Trust him. The words echo in my mind, and I flinch at the thought. Trust isn't something I give easily. It's not something I've ever given freely. Not after everything that's happened. Not after the betrayals, the lies, the pain.
"I don't know if I can trust you," I whisper, my voice trembling despite my efforts to remain calm.
"You don't have to trust me right away," Damon says, his tone steady. "But I'm not going anywhere. And I'm not letting you go either."
His words hang in the air, heavy and loaded with meaning. And suddenly, I feel the weight of everything I've been trying to ignore. The desire, the pull, the fire that's been burning between us since the moment we met. It's too strong to ignore anymore.
"You think I'm just going to fall into your arms, don't you?" I ask, my voice shaky as I step back, breaking our connection. "You think that's how this works?"
Damon's eyes flash with something that almost looks like amusement, but there's still that underlying intensity. "I don't need you to fall into my arms, Ella. I need you to stop fighting this. We both know it's inevitable."
His words, so sure, so confident, make my blood run cold. It's as if he already knows the end of the story. As if he's already decided what will happen between us.
I don't know how to respond to that, how to fight something that feels so inevitable. But deep down, I know one thing for sure.
No matter how hard I try, I can't stop this. I can't stop him.