When the cameras shut down, the studio lights dimmed just a little, and the room's tension seemed to exhale all at once. The quiet murmur of the crew returning to their routines filled the space.
Damon sat in his chair for a few seconds longer, staring at the floor, his elbows resting on his knees.
He sighed, running a hand over his face.
Maybe I lost it a bit there, he thought.
Another breath left him, heavier this time.
What the fuck am I becoming.
For a moment, he just sat there. Still. Thinking.
Then he stood up, slowly rolling his shoulders, shaking off whatever weight was trying to settle there.
He was about to leave when he saw her.
Ava.
She was walking toward him, her steps uneven, but determined in that shaky kind of way people get when they're trying to act like they're not rattled. Like they're not falling apart inside.
