Victor's mind was a storm, thoughts crashing against each other in a blur of guilt, rage, and desperation. Damien lay motionless before him, the pale skin of his face stark against the floor, chest barely rising as he lay unconscious. A cold sweat covered Victor's body, his breath shallow, pulse racing. He had to fix this. He couldn't leave things like this—he couldn't leave Damien like this.
His hands hovered over Damien's chest, uncertain at first, then desperate as he realized the depth of what he'd just done. His heart ached with regret, and the fear of losing him, of having gone too far, gripped his throat. He couldn't let Damien slip away. He couldn't undo what had happened, but he could try.
Victor leaned in, his desperation overwhelming him. He kissed Damien harshly, his lips colliding with his, forcing the air into his lungs with a roughness that bordered on frantic. It was no longer a kiss—it was an act of trying to restore life, of trying to wake him from the haze of unconsciousness that had enveloped him. Victor didn't care how it looked, didn't care how it felt—he just needed Damien to wake up.
The kiss was brutal, almost angry, driven by a need that Victor couldn't explain, a violent mix of guilt and desire to control something—anything—after the chaos inside him. He pushed harder against Damien's lips, gripping his collar, pulling him closer, as if somehow, if he could press harder, he could undo the damage, fix it all. The force of it stunned him, but he didn't stop. He couldn't.
Damien's chest twitched, and then, with a sharp intake of breath, his eyes fluttered open. They were glassy, unfocused, as he blinked repeatedly, trying to clear the fog. His body was still, completely unresponsive, his eyes searching Victor's face with confusion but no words, no sound. His mouth was slightly open, but it wasn't a cry or a word—it was just the breath he fought to take.
Victor pulled back slightly, still hovering over him, chest heaving, eyes wide, but Damien didn't speak. He didn't move beyond the shallow rise and fall of his chest. His expression was one of confusion, pain, as though his mind was struggling to catch up with his body, but no words came from his lips.
Victor's heart raced, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. His hands were shaking as he pulled away, but his body felt heavy, suffocated by the weight of the moment. The silence between them was deafening. The touch of Damien's lips, still lingering on his, left a gnawing ache in his chest. What had he just done? What had happened?
Damien remained still, unresponsive, his eyes glassy, but there was no indication that he even understood what had just taken place. He didn't react, didn't speak, his breath still labored, but there was nothing in his gaze—nothing at all.
Victor couldn't bring himself to say anything. The guilt clawed at him. There were no words that could fix this. All he could do was stare at Damien, the silence between them as suffocating as the storm inside him.