The first thing Damon noticed upon waking was the silence.
It wasn't the comfortable silence of the night, nor the deep silence of a sleeping house. It was a different silence, lighter, punctuated by small, distant sounds that indicated the mansion had already awakened. Somewhere far away, a door closed softly. Discreet footsteps echoed down a hallway. The distant song of birds drifted through the windows.
Morning had arrived.
Sunlight already partially filtered through the curtains of the large bedroom window, scattering golden streaks across the disheveled bedsheets. The light illuminated the silent chaos of the previous night: the displaced pillows, the twisted sheets partially fallen from the mattress, some candles already completely melted on the bedside table.
Damon opened his eyes slowly.
