The week had passed in a haze of emotions and sensations, each day weaving new threads into the complicated, delicate fabric that was Alex and Damien's connection. From the moment they met, their chemistry had been undeniable—intense and unspoken—but over the course of those days, Alex felt it solidify into something far more meaningful than just fleeting passion.
Their mornings began with a quiet, almost ritualistic meeting in the hotel lobby. Damien would always be there first, his presence as familiar as the soft rustle of the newspaper he would occasionally flick through while waiting. Alex never failed to smile when he spotted him, the smile blossoming like a flower when Damien's eyes lifted from the paper and met his gaze. There was something intimate about their morning exchanges—the brief eye contact, the way Damien's lips would curl into a knowing smile, as if they shared a secret no one else could understand. It was a quiet, understated affection that set the tone for the rest of their day.
After their light, often quiet lunches, they would take long walks. They would stroll through the city's vibrant streets, where the sun bathed everything in golden light, and talk about the silliest of things. There were no pretenses, no formalities between them; it was just the two of them, speaking freely, as though they had known each other for a lifetime. They would discuss their likes and dislikes, the things that made them laugh, the things that made them angry. But, strangely enough, they both avoided talking about their families.
Alex didn't like mentioning his family since it had always been a sore spot for him so he assumed the same must have been the case with Damien. So they both avoided the subject, steering the conversation towards hundreds of other things.
They talked about their dreams, their hopes for the future, and the things that terrified them. There was something about Damien that made Alex feel seen, heard, understood in a way he hadn't ever experienced before. He didn't feel like a stranger in Damien's world; he felt like he belonged. He didn't have to hide the parts of himself that were usually too fragile to share with others. Damien had a way of making Alex feel safe, secure, like everything—every moment they spent together—was meant to be.
By the time they returned to the hotel in the evenings, the tension between them was palpable. It wasn't just sexual; it was the kind of tension that pulled at the very core of Alex's being, a magnetic force that drew them closer with each passing day. When they entered the hotel room, it was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist. There was no one else. Nothing else mattered except the two of them. Although Alex's heat had ended that first night together, his need for Damien seemed to grow stronger and stronger.
Damien was surprisingly tender. His kisses were soft, exploratory, and when their bodies finally came together, it wasn't aggressive the way it had been with all the other alphas. There was no roughness in Damien's touch; it was all reverence, all care. Even when their movements became more urgent, more desperate, there was an underlying tenderness that Alex had never experienced before.
Damien's control was unlike anything Alex had ever known. Where other alphas might have demanded more, taken what they wanted, Damien always asked for consent—always checked in, always ensured that Alex felt comfortable. It wasn't just physical care; it was emotional care as well. He paid attention to every detail.
As the days passed, their encounters became more intense, more intimate. Damien's touch grew more confident, more sure of itself, but it was never overpowering. Even when Alex felt the urge to give in to the fire that burned between them, Damien knew how to bring him back—how to slow down and savor the moment. It was as though he could sense Alex's vulnerability, and instead of exploiting it, he shielded it, making Alex feel safe to let go.
The seventh night they spent together, after a long walk along the waterfront, was different. There was a charge in the air, a heaviness that neither of them could ignore. They were standing in front of the hotel's large glass windows, the city lights sparkling like stars beneath them. Alex's heart was beating faster than usual, the anticipation thick between them, but it wasn't just the heat building inside him—it was something more, something deeper.
Damien turned to face him, his black eyes even darker with desire, and Alex's breath caught in his throat. It was the way Damien looked at him, the way his gaze lingered, intense and raw, that made Alex's body tremble with need. There was no preamble this time, no waiting. Damien stepped closer, his hand reaching for Alex's, pulling him toward the bed.
This time, their kiss wasn't soft—it was hungry, desperate. Alex could feel the weight of Damien's desire, the heat of it radiating through him, and he met it with equal fervor. Damien's hands slid down Alex's sides, pulling him closer, and Alex let himself go, letting the passion take over.
Their bodies came together in a flurry of motion, but even in the heat of it all, there was still that undeniable care in Damien's touch.
That night, Alex didn't just lose himself in the pleasure. He lost himself in Damien. It wasn't just about bodies moving together—it was about their souls intertwining, their connection deepening with each touch, each whispered word, each kiss that spoke volumes more than any conversation could.
After a week, Alex felt like he was no longer the same person. He felt more alive, more in tune with himself than he had in ages. Damien had opened something inside of him—a part of him that had been locked away for years, buried under layers of doubt, fear, and insecurity. But with Damien, everything felt different. He felt seen, valued in a way that was real, not just fleeting.
It wasn't just about sex anymore—it was about the way Damien treated him. It was in the way he held him in the mornings, the way he kissed him like he was the most important thing in the world, the way he looked at him like there was no one else. Alex could tell that Damien wasn't just treating him as a casual lover. There was something more in Damien's touch, something deeper in his gaze. He felt that Damien loved him despite only knowing each other for such a short time. And Alex was certain he had fallen head over heel with Damien.
But then, as suddenly as it had started, everything changed. Damien stopped answering his calls.
At first, Alex thought it was just a misunderstanding. He left voicemail after voicemail, wondering if Damien was just busy or maybe needed space. But when the operator told him that the number he had dialed no longer existed, a cold dread began to settle in his chest.
Where was Damien? Was he okay? Was he hurt? Alex realized with horror that he didn't even know his last name. He hadn't asked for details about his life outside of the bubble they'd created together, and now, it felt like the rug had been pulled out from under him. He wasn't just concerned—he was panicking. Was this just another fleeting connection? Another meaningless encounter that would slip through his fingers like sand? Had he been wrong all this time?
He couldn't shake the feeling that he was losing something important. He wasn't sure what to do. He didn't know how to find him, where to look.
Just when Alex was on the verge of hiring a detective agency to track down Damien, his phone rang. It was his older sister, Elena.
"Our family business is on the verge of bankruptcy," she said, her voice strained. "Take a break from college and come home."
Alex's stomach twisted with anxiety. He had been studying in a different city, far from his family's hotel business, and now, despite everything that had been happening with Damien, he knew he had no choice. He had to go home if his family demanded it.
"Okay," Alex said, his voice tight.
He didn't know how he was going to make sense of his feelings for Damien or how he would get in touch with him again. But for now, he had to leave. He packed his bags and boarded the train back to the capital.