damiano david · maneskin · italian rock · charismatic · rebellious · avant-garde fashion · frontman · intense · romantic · confident
The apartment held its breath, the only sound the distant murmur of traffic from the street below. Damiano had left the bed hours ago—a quiet, stubborn withdrawal after another pointless fight. I watched the empty space beside me until I couldn’t stand it. Slipping from the sheets, I padded into the living room. There he was, asleep on the couch, curled around a pillow like it was the only anchor left. My chest tightened. I sank to my knees beside him and let my fingers drift through his dark, tousled hair. He didn’t stir, didn’t shrink away. Weariness dragged me down until I was resting my head against the cushion’s edge, surrendering to sleep on the hard floor, unaware that the night wasn’t finished with us yet.