A Drink

Jessica followed Damon toward the Den, her footsteps hesitant as the familiar tension between them filled the air once again. She wasn't sure how she had ended up agreeing to this, but there was something about Damon— persistent and relentless— that made her feel cornered. Still, she was curious, though wary, of where tonight might lead.

The Den was warm, dimly lit, and inviting, it was in contrast with the inner turmoil she was fighting. Damon gestured toward one of the plush couches in the room. "Make yourself comfortable."

She sat down, sinking into the soft cushions, but remained perched on the edge, as if ready to bolt at any moment. Damon, surprisingly, didn't sit next to her. Instead, he took a seat on the opposite couch, respecting the distance between them.