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Vigil
publish date:
2026-04-19 08:02:50
Latest chapter
Own You. Vigil
The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and stale coffee. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a cold, bluish glow over everything. Machines beeped in a steady, mechanical rhythm—heart monitor, oxygen levels, the soft whoosh of the IV drip. Damian had long since stopped noticing any of it. All he could focus on was the man lying motionless in the narrow bed.Sebastian.Eight hours. That was how long Damian had been sitting in the same plastic chair, one hand wrapped around Sebastian’s limp fingers, the other occasionally brushing damp strands of hair from his forehead. He hadn’t eaten. He hadn’t slept. Nurses had come and gone, offering him water, food, even a cot in the family lounge. He refused every single thing. The only place he belonged right now was right here, holding on to the only thing that mattered.Sebastian’s face was pale, bruised along the left cheekbone where the impact had caught him. A thin oxygen tube rested under his nose, and a bandage covered the stitches
Own You. The Chase
The gun was not a prop.Damian knew that the moment he saw it—the way the journalist held it, the way his finger rested on the trigger, the way the black metal caught the sunlight and threw it back like a promise. This was not a threat. This was not a bluff. This was a man who had nothing left to lose."Get down!" Sebastian's voice was sharp, urgent. His hand grabbed Damian's arm and yanked.They dove.The bullet hit the pavement where Damian had been standing a split second earlier. The crack of the gunshot echoed off the storefronts, off the cars, off the gray sky. Someone screamed. A car alarm started wailing.Damian's knees hit the asphalt hard. Sebastian was already pulling him, dragging him, shoving him behind the nearest cover—a dumpster, green and rusted, overflowing with trash. The smell hit Damian's nose, but he barely noticed. His whole world had narrowed to the sound of his own heartbeat and the journalist's footsteps."Run," Sebastian said. His voice was low, controlled,
Own You. The first good day
The sun was out.Damian noticed it first when he opened his eyes—actual sunlight, golden and warm, streaming through the gap in Sebastian's curtains. Not the gray overcast of the past weeks. Not the fluorescent buzz of hospital lights. Just sun. Ordinary, beautiful, forget-your-troubles-for-a-minute sun.Sebastian was still asleep beside him, one arm thrown over Damian's waist, his face pressed into the pillow. His hair was a disaster. His mouth was slightly open. He looked nothing like the Reaper and everything like a man who had finally stopped running.Damian lay there for a long moment, watching Sebastian breathe. The apartment was quiet. No phones buzzing with news alerts. No reporters camped outside. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of traffic.The suspension had been lifted yesterday. The league had issued a terse statement—"after review of new evidence, the indefinite suspension of Damian Volkov and Sebastian Montgomery has been rescinded"—and just like t
Own You. Scars left.
Damian's hand was on the elevator button when something made him stop.He didn't know what it was. A sound, maybe. A voice. The way the hospital air shifted, like a door opening somewhere it shouldn't. Sebastian was beside him, his hand still on Damian's back, his eyes tired and worried."You okay?" Sebastian asked.Damian didn't answer. He was listening. Straining. The hallway behind them was empty, the nurses' station quiet, the fluorescent lights buzzing their same old song. But somewhere, down that corridor, in room 412, something had changed."I forgot something," Damian said."What?""I don't know. Just—wait here."Sebastian's hand caught his wrist. "Damian. Don't go back in there. You said what you needed to say. Let it be.""I can't."Damian pulled free and walked back down the hallway. His footsteps were soft on the linoleum. The door to room 412 was still half open, the same gray light spilling through the gap. He approached slowly, not sure what he was looking for, not sure
Own You. Trap
Damian should have walked away.He should have let Sebastian lead him to the car, should have driven back to the apartment, should have crawled into bed and slept for twelve hours. That would have been the smart thing. The safe thing. The thing that protected what was left of his sanity.But something made him stop at the elevator."I forgot my phone," Damian said. His voice was hoarse, still thick from crying.Sebastian's hand was on the small of his back. "I'll get it.""No. I need—" Damian didn't know what he needed. To see his father one more time? To make sure the old man was real? To prove to himself that he had actually said the words out loud? "Just wait here. Two minutes."Sebastian's jaw tightened. "Damian—""Two minutes."Damian turned and walked back down the hallway. His footsteps were quiet on the linoleum. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Room 412 was still half open. The same gray light spilled through the gap.He reached for the door handle.And stopped.A voic
Own You. Hospital.
The hospital smelled like bleach and dying flowers.Damian hadn't been inside a hospital since he was twelve years old, when his mother had walked out the front doors and never came back. The memory hit him as he stepped through the automatic doors—the fluorescent lights, the squeaky floors, the faint beeping of machines somewhere down the hall. His stomach turned.Sebastian was beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched. The stranger with the hospital badge had led them to the elevator, pressed the button for the fourth floor, and disappeared into a stairwell without another word."You don't have to do this," Sebastian said."Yes, I do.""He's your father. You don't owe him anything."Damian looked at Sebastian. At the bruise on his cheek—still fading, still visible. At the cut on his knuckles from the bar fight. At the dark circles under his eyes that hadn't gone away since the suspension."He asked for me," Damian said. "That's never happened before."Sebastian's jaw tig
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