Whispers of a forgetten love

Damian found himself staring at Evelyn more often than he should. At first, he thought it was nothing—just curiosity, maybe mild interest. But then, he started noticing the little things.

The way she bit her lip when she was focused.

The way she sighed in frustration when he sent her on errands.

The way she unknowingly made his cold office feel warmer just by being there.

He was falling for her. Hard.

And two days after the night she stayed at his house, he finally remembered everything.

The drunken words.

The way he had clung to her.

The warmth of her touch when she petted him to sleep.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Shit."

Evelyn had seen him vulnerable. She had taken care of him. And worst of all? She had stayed with him even when she didn't have to.

That's when it hit him—she was different.

—

The next day, Damian found himself giving Evelyn a new task.

"You'll be cooking for me," he said casually.

Evelyn nearly choked on air. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He leaned back in his chair, watching her reaction. "Your job as my secretary now includes making sure I eat properly."

She gaped at him. "I did not sign up to be your personal chef, Damian!"

"Consider it a promotion."

She glared at him, but in the end, she had no choice but to do as he asked.

And so, it became routine. Every evening, Evelyn would go to his house to prepare meals for him. At first, she complained, but over time, she started to get used to it.

What she didn't know was that Damian wasn't sending her there just for the food.

He just liked having her close.

—

Evelyn had always been independent. She didn't scare easily, and she certainly didn't believe in paranoia.

So when she first noticed a man watching her from a distance, she ignored it.

When she saw him again, following her after work, she brushed it off as coincidence.

But then, one evening, she walked into her apartment, locked the door, and turned around—only to find him standing in her living room.

She froze. "What the—How did you get in here?"

The man smiled, stepping closer. "You've been ignoring me, Evelyn."

Her stomach twisted in fear. "I don't even know you!"

"Oh, but I know you," he whispered. "I've always known you."

She turned to run, but he grabbed her wrist, shoving her against the wall.

"You belong to me," he breathed, his grip tightening. "And tonight, I'll make sure you never forget it."

Evelyn's heart pounded. She struggled, but he was too strong.

Then—

The door burst open.

"Get your hands off her."

Damian's voice was lethal, sharp with fury.

Before Evelyn could even react, he launched forward, punching the man square in the jaw. The stalker stumbled back, but Damian didn't stop. He grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the floor, fists raining down like a storm.

Evelyn trembled, pressing herself against the wall as she watched the violent scene unfold.

"Don't you ever touch her," Damian growled, landing one last punch before yanking the man up and throwing him out of the apartment.

When he turned back, Evelyn was still shaking.

She exhaled shakily. "I—I can't stay here alone tonight."

"You won't," Damian said firmly. "You're coming with me."

And just like that, she found herself back at his place.

That night, Damian stayed close to her, watching over her like a guardian. He made sure she ate, gave her warm clothes, and even let her sleep in his bed while he took the couch.

But more than anything, he made her feel safe.

—

Then the dreams started.

Faint, blurred images.

A different time. A different place.

A love that felt too familiar.

And a tragedy that ended in blood.

Evelyn woke up in a cold sweat, and for the first time in her life, she felt like she was remembering something she had long forgotten.

And she wasn't the only one.

Damian had seen it too.

Their past lives.

The love they once shared.

And the man who had taken her away from him.

This time, Damian swore he wouldn't let history repeat itself.

But fate had other plans.

—

The stalker returned.

This time, he didn't hesitate.

A knife. A swift motion.

Blood.

Damian collapsed, the blade deep in his side.

Evelyn screamed, catching him before he hit the ground. "No—No, no, no—Damian, stay with me!"

His eyes fluttered shut.

She sobbed, pressing her forehead against his. "You can't leave me again. Not this time."

Her heart ached.

Her vision blurred.

And for the first time, she realized—

She loved him.

More than anything.

More than life itself.

—

Days passed. Damian was in a coma.

Evelyn never left his side.

She whispered to him, held his hand, prayed for him to wake up.

And then, one evening, when she thought he was still unconscious, she confessed everything.

"I love you," she murmured, pressing her lips to his knuckles. "I love you so much, Damian. Please don't leave me."

A deep breath.

A slight movement.

Then—

"Do you love me this much?"

Evelyn's eyes widened as Damian slowly opened his eyes, a weak smirk tugging at his lips.

Her face turned red.

Without thinking, she pecked his cheek—then immediately bolted out of the room.

Damian chuckled, still weak, but now more determined than ever.

She was his.

And once he recovered, he was going to make sure she knew it.

—

After his discharge, Damian wasted no time.

He bought her flowers.

He brought her meals.

He took care of her at work.

And slowly, Evelyn's walls crumbled.

She fell for him.

Hard.

They started dating, their love stronger than it had ever been in their past lives.

But one thing remained unresolved.

The stalker was still out there.

And this time, Damian wasn't going to let him get away.