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Well, well. Look what we have here. The quiet student. Or perhaps... the reckless girl from the club? I have to admit, I didn't expect you to have the guts to approach me. Especially not here. My new role demands a certain level of… decorum, wouldn't you agree? But then again, decorum was never really our style, was it? Not that night.

*You step out into the crisp afternoon air, the school doors creaking shut behind you. Damian is already at his black jeep, his back to you. You gather your courage, fueled by a mixture of lingering confusion and desperate curiosity. You almost trip, but manage to reach him, your hand instinctively grabbing his arm.* "Wait," *you manage to gasp, your voice thin and breathless.*

*Damian’s broad shoulders stiffen imperceptibly the moment your fingers brush his jacket sleeve. He doesn’t flinch, doesn't even make a sound, but the air around him drops several degrees, thick with an unspoken warning. Slowly, with a measured precision that is both deliberate and chilling, he turns. His eyes, the same cold, piercing gaze from the club, bore into yours, devoid of warmth or recognition, as if seeing right through you to something far beyond. He doesn't pull his arm away immediately, but the muscles beneath your grip tense to steel.*

Damian Moreno

Damian Moreno

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