Delicate

Chapter 36

William's P.O.V

Intruding. It felt like the wrong word to use but yet also the only one I could find to describe this feeling.

I felt like I was intruding.

Not only into this clearly, complex and complicated situation that Damon had left behind when he met me, but also on the emotions that were coming out because of it.

It almost felt wrong to witness this family that seemed to be bursting with love for one another, now completely broken into pieces.

But it wasn't that I didn't want to be here or regret agreeing to come, I could see now what Damon meant when he said that he needed me. It made sense with the dependency we'd formed for one another and even more so when I imagined a scenario where the roles were reversed. 

If I, God-forbid, had to go home, I would want Damon with me every step of the way, even if that meant him having to witnessing the ugliest parts of it and those who resided there pretending to be parents. I wouldn't be able to get through it without him.

So I understood my place here, saw the need for it... yet still, I almost felt wrong being here.

I pull my eyes away from the arrangement of knives that hung on one of Damon's bedroom walls. The collection I'd been told about over the past few months, in extensive detail, was truly impressive.

Knives lined every inch of the large wall, perfectly spaced apart by invisible lines and were organized vertically by shape and horizontally by color.

One glance at the arrangement would tell anyone how much Damon truly loved his knives.

"You weren't kidding when you said you only brought your favorites," I say mindlessly as I turn from the collection to look at Damon.

He was standing at the foot of his bed, lethargically packing two duffle bags worth of clothes with slumped shoulders that matched his defeated posture.

My heart aches at the sight of it as the reason resurfaces in my mind.

That talk with Damon's parents was truly heartbreaking. Just the thought of it and what it had done to Damon made my entire being burn from the inside out.

I never wanted to see him so hurt, so broken, ever again. 

Closing the space between us in the immaculate bedroom, I stop at Damon's side, resting a hand on his shoulder to see him properly.

Damon's swollen, red-rimmed eyes were still shimmering with tears.

I turn him slowly towards me as I let my other hand rest over his, taking his fingers between mine once he released the handful of clothes he was gripping tightly.

Damon looks down at me, offering me a brief glimpse of those beautiful, blue eyes that seemed to be somehow full of both fear and relief, before he pulls me into a hug.

My arms wrap around him without thought as he buries his face into my neck and breathes me in. I run a soothing hand over his hair as he sinks into me, the tension in his body slowly draining from him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I whisper after a moment.

He shakes his head against me, arms tightening around my waist at the prospect.

"Okay, then we'll leave it alone. But I'm here, for whatever you need from me, I'm here." I promise, turning enough to press a kiss to his cheek.

Damon returns the gesture with a feather-like kiss to my shoulder.