Damian woke up to the faint smell of coffee and the soft clinking of dishes. His body felt heavy, like he hadn't slept in days, even though the couch wasn't the worst place he'd ever crashed. Sunlight streamed through the half-closed blinds, cutting across the room in warm slashes of gold. It made his head throb. Or maybe that was just everything else catching up to him.
Last night's conversation replayed in his mind, slow and heavy. Alex's voice, the way he'd looked at him, the way he hadn't pushed, hadn't demanded anything. Just let Damian sit there, caught between wanting to say something real and not knowing how.
And yet, despite all of it, he was still here.
Damian sighed and sat up, running a hand down his face. His muscles were stiff from sleeping on the couch, but it was the least of his problems. In the quiet of the apartment, the sound of Alex moving around the kitchen felt louder than it should. Familiar. Almost normal.
That was the dangerous part.
Pulling himself up, he shuffled toward the kitchen, pausing in the doorway. Alex was leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone with one hand, the other wrapped around a half-empty mug.
The sight of him—messy hair, hoodie hanging off one shoulder, face relaxed in a way it rarely was—made something twist in Damian's chest.
Alex didn't look up right away, but when he did, his mouth curled into a smirk. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty."
Damian rolled his eyes, rubbing at his temple. "Shut up."
Alex snorted and took another sip of coffee, his gaze flicking over Damian like he was assessing how wrecked he looked. Apparently, the verdict wasn't great. "Coffee's fresh. You look like you need it."
Damian grumbled under his breath but grabbed a mug anyway, pouring himself a cup. The warmth seeped into his fingers, grounding him, but his thoughts still felt tangled. He took a slow sip, letting the bitterness settle on his tongue.
"You up early or just never went to sleep?" His voice came out rougher than he intended.
Alex shrugged, rolling the mug between his hands. "Didn't sleep much."
There was something in the way he said it—too casual, too easy—that made Damian pause. But he didn't push. Instead, they stood there, the silence stretching between them, filled with the weight of everything neither of them wanted to say.
Finally, Alex sighed and set his mug down with a soft clink. "You still freaking out?"
Damian stiffened slightly. "I'm not freaking out."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Dude."
Damian exhaled sharply, shifting his weight. "Okay. Maybe a little."
Alex hummed in acknowledgment, watching him for a long moment before nodding. "Alright."
Damian frowned. "That's it?"
Alex shrugged, tilting his head slightly. "Yeah. What do you want me to say? That I expected you to wake up with some grand revelation and suddenly have all the answers?"
Damian clenched his jaw, looking down at his coffee like it might have something useful to say.
Alex sighed and leaned back against the counter, arms crossing loosely over his chest. "Look, I know this is messing with your head. And I get it. But I meant what I said last night. No pressure, no rush."
Damian swallowed hard, his grip tightening around his mug. "You make it sound easy."
Alex's mouth curled into a small, knowing smile. "It's not. But it doesn't have to be impossible either."
Damian wasn't sure how to respond to that.
So he didn't.
Instead, he took another sip of coffee, letting the silence settle between them again.
Alex didn't push, didn't pry. He just stood there, drinking his own coffee, waiting.
And maybe that was the most frustrating thing about him.
Because Damian knew—no matter how long it took, no matter how much he fought against it—Alex wasn't going anywhere.