Chapter Two- Cat and Mouse
Damian sits alone the entire lecture. Most of the other students keep a wide berth from him. Even the two friends he's had since grade school. He tends to snap at any perceived mistake, and mostly acts as if bothered by their presence alone, especially if he is studying. And he is always studying. Even the kids from important families steer clear, but a few try to make a connection because of who he is related to, and Damian knows this- resents this- but plays along for the same reason.
He wants his time to be simple here. Make professional connections, learn as much as he can to stay on top, and pave his way to lifelong success.
It's why Anya cannot be in his life. She takes up too much of his brain space, sneaking into his mind in the strangest of places, sparking fantasies he refuses to indulge in… mostly. Unless they happen during his allotted free time or in the evenings, and of course, he can't control what he dreams about, so sometimes in the morning too. He's become skilled at pushing thoughts of her aside, his control over his mind and his focus two of his best abilities. He even has a trick.
He uses it now, pulling and snapping the elastic at his wrist to give him a little pain. He sees the error in his seat choice. Having her in front of him made it hard for his eyes to stay trained on the Teacher and now as she walks ahead after dismissal, he snaps the elastic again. Anya beams at Becky and Damian finds his own expression unconsciously mirroring hers before he scowls as he overhears their conversation.
"I'm in Maple Hall, you should come to see my room soon!" Anya bounces, clearly proud and excited, wearing all her emotions right on her face. Damian admires this quality. It's a sign she's free to be, act, and feel however she wants at any time. He is glad for her, that she can follow her emotional whims. He doesn't have that privilege.
Becky, on the other hand, annoys him. "I told you my dad bought me an entire apartment, you could have stayed with me."
Anya laughs, the sound breezing through him like wind chimes, tinkling in his head.
"And miss you telling me how small my new room is? Never. Besides, you have to at least know how the rest of us live so you're more grounded. I'm doing this for you." Anya jokes and Damian wonders if he is out of touch too, but Becky's laugh is a sharp contrast to Anya's, a disjointed chord in the middle of a perfect melody.
"And when will you know how we live if you don't take me up on any of my offers? You could have soaked up the sun with me on the islands or critiqued art with me in Amsterdam." Becky nudges Anya's arm with her elbow, jesting good-naturedly. But he's had enough, speeding up to pass them and get to his next class.
"You went to Hamsterdam?!" Anya asks, impressed, and Damian cannot help himself. His natural inclination is a disdainful correction.
"You still have trouble with pronunciation, Anya? Grow up." He breezes by, somehow feeling a little better he can get at her when she effortlessly eats at him. It lasts only a moment, as he sees her face fall and scolds himself internally for taking away her happiness. -Just stay away- he thinks to himself.
"Good to see he's the same grumpy asshole." Becky quips, giving her friend an exasperated look that she is surprised Anya isn't returning. Becky watches her dearest friend watch Damian walk ahead, her face slowly softening. "No, Anya... still? Not him."
Anya doesn't answer, as she's not truly had the feelings Becky has speculated about for years about anyone. For a while, Anya believed she wasn't built that way, preferring action to romance and playing games to playing house. This year, though, she feels different. This year, she doesn't immediately deny Becky's accusation because maybe they have been inside for a while.
Becky gasps as she grabs Anya's arm to bring them to a halt, the chandelier overhead reflecting the sunlight to dance across their faces and the hall around them. Becky stares her down, her eyes narrowing.
"He's not that bad." Anya defends softly.
"He's got his head up his ass ninety-seven percent of the time! He corrects the teachers just to be smug!" Her dark-haired friend isn't wrong and Anya gives a smile that stretches across her face and pinches her eyes mostly shut. "Ugh! Fine, I understand that the matters of the heart are not exactly logical."
And Becky's mind whirls, first with ways to convince Anya not to go down this path as she fears it will only hurt, but then to how to help her, eventually segwaying into a plan about a shoujo manga and how she always wanted to be an artist as a hobby.
The girls part for their separate lectures, saying their goodbyes with frowns. Anya checks her schedule, realizes she isn't sure where her next class is, and flips the paper over to see the map. She turns down the next hall, barely marveling at the windows arching up to span the entire wall as she skirts into her next lecture.
This room is smaller, an advanced-level elective called Biotechnology she isn't looking forward to and (through cheating off Damian's mind during tests) she barely qualified for. Her own essays and projects always brought her grades down. The board is blank, the teacher's desk empty except for a stack of paper, and she looks over the students standing around rows of desks that are paired up.
There are eighteen desks and she knows who she wants to pair with. This time, she's lucky because he has arrived ahead of her.
With a smirk, Anya rushes to the back and sits next to Damian. He looks up from his book with a start, his cheeks pinkening when he meets her pleasing green eyes with his surprised hazel ones. "Of freaking course," he mutters, snapping his wristband before reading once more, then he looks at her, shocked. "How did you even get into this class?"
"I made the list." Anya shrugs, putting on an air of also being focused and pulling out her textbook while Damian snorts dismissively. Both of them think about her being ranked last in this class.
"You got lucky." He mutters, thinking again about how far apart they are in so many ways. He's top in every class, obviously. In his mind, he thinks of her as last ranked in the entire school. Her parents are a simple doctor and civil servant and he's bred from generations of successful men. He knows she is sloppy in her work and knows all the thoughts in her head are silly as she lets them tumble from her smooth tempting lips with little care.
"I'm smart enough, only sixteen of us made it." Anya defends, his mind trying to figure a way for Anya to somehow be smarter than he knows. He shakes his head. She is an idiot but he supposes everyone is. Anya fumes, grumbling under her breath until Damian stands, thinking about finding another seat. "Wait!" Anya raises her hands in surrender.
Damian pauses, looking down at her. Her green eyes sparkle, the facets in them almost glowing from the sunlight gracing her face in just the right way. She pouts ever so slightly and Damian's gaze drops to the glistening flesh of her lips. He's lost in his feelings, his heart beating so fast he fears it will escape his chest, and when she reaches for him, it feels like it jumps into his throat.
Her lips part and he can hardly take it, but whatever she is about to say is lost as the professor comes in. "Sit!" The man in the gray suit waves over the class, "these will be your seats all semester, but don't worry, there are only two partner projects this year." All Damian's pleasing thoughts of Anya's appearance blink out as he glares at his new professor. Thoughts of Anya as his presentation partner ruin his mood, imagining her telling this class, "I have boobs now," or some other asinine statement.
"It'll be fine." She mumbles with a flush, watching as Damian lowers to his chair as if he is made of wood, stiff and moving as if every muscle in his body resisted sitting beside her. Anya tries not to be offended, taking a deep breath as he shifts away from her as best he can and snaps at his wristband often throughout the class. Anya figures he will adjust as the week goes on and tries to pay attention, but she still ends up copying Damian's notes a little.
He bolts out of the class at the end, leaving Anya gaping after him. She hasn't even closed her book and he's already gone. "And he thinks I'm an idiot." The young lady smirks, knowing she'll do this same strategy once more, of waiting for him to find a seat and then pop in, later this time, to be right next to him. She takes her time.
Anya peeks into their lecture hall. This one has an incline that looks down at the main level where the professor will be, steps leading up the center and on both sides, with two long tables at each staggered platform. The windows on the far side align with the incline, and the ceiling has rich molding around it. Other students go around her, giving her strange looks and muttering about her, a few thinking she hasn't changed much.
But her plan works, Anya skirts into class a moment before the professor and plops beside Damian with a smirk. He tenses, his fists forming over the long table before them. There are eight tables and he chose the back again, farthest from the door, but she knows he likes to stay away from people, same as her.
"Go sit with anyone else." He forces out, looking around and thinking about moving himself, but anywhere he moves will be next to someone else. Still, he picks another spot between two others and begins to repack his things.
"You're my only friend here," Anya whispers. He stills, weighing his options, his mind turning so many thoughts that for a moment his mind reminds her of Loid's when he's planning a mission and finds she can't hear beyond his surface. Then he thinks, -I can meet this challenge. If I can overcome this and keep my focus, I'll be unstoppable moving forward.-
He stays. Anya smiles, wanting to thank him, but instead chooses not to push her luck. She is never sure if what she says will upset him or not. She simply bides her time, impressed with how strict Damian is with his mind. How much self-control he's forced on himself over the years. She feels bad for a brief moment because he's truly earned his place here while she's mostly cheated, off him no less, but has tried her best, always.
At lunch, Damian is nowhere to be found. Anya gets her food and spends some time looking around the cafeteria, then the dining hall, and then the courtyard, which is where she stays alone. The weather is nice and she likes being surrounded by her school buildings and students running around, some playing with a soccer ball and a few having a picnic. Anya knows being surrounded by people makes her feel more alone. She decides to find a more secluded place going forward, but she enjoys being outside.
She wishes Becky had lunch at the same time as her, but she also hoped to find Damien. It isn't as if they made plans to eat together. Still, she nibbles away, her little legs dangling off the bench. She does open her textbook, trying to stay on top of her studies and hoping it made her look like she was busy.
It was nice out, the sun shining and the breeze strong enough to tease at Anya's skin, keeping her cool. She doesn't eat much. One girl waves at her as she walks by, a nice girl she's known for years, but she's known a lot of these students just as long. Many discount her for her parents' social standing since they don't know the truth about either of them, but mostly, people think she's weird.
They aren't wrong.
Still, it's a shock when someone thinks about her in a positive way. So, as she's sitting there sipping her cola, she straightens when she faintly picks up a... fantasy. The scene in their mind starts easy, with Anya simply flushing before the fantasizer saying, 'Please, will you teach me what my body can do?' before unbuttoning her uniform right in front of him. She lets the fabric pool at her ankles, gazing up with a look she's only seen in Becky's shows.
The real Anya gasps as the fantasy-Anya does, but in two completely different ways. Someone likes her enough to think about her in this way! She's been privy to plenty of others' deepest desires, of which she promptly shuts it out, but she's never been the star in anyone's before! The real Anya stands suddenly both thrilled and alarmed simultaneously.
What if it's a creep?
The fantasy continues, a male's hand reaches out, taking her by the neck to pull her forward into a kiss. The fantasizer's mind focuses on her while the real Anya is looking for any hints of whose mind she is in and trying to focus on him. Her real hand rises to her mouth when her fantasy tongue flicks along the fantasizer's mouth. "You can do that?" Anya whispers to herself. A pair of students hurry past her as Anya wonders what a kiss tastes like and if she will be as good at it as this guy thinks she will be.
His hand slips down from fantasy-Anya's neck to trace the curve of her spine, and the Anya in his mind gasps into his mouth, her hands grasping onto his imperial scholar cape as if mindlessly keeping him against her. The real Anya frowns, not picking up a single clue as to who this guy is. She looks around the courtyard, vaguely detecting a direction to the right.
Fantasy Anya arches her back as if offering her chest, then slightly spreads her legs. The man looks, a patch of soft hair there, and she sits back down in shock. How does this guy know? His imaginings are close enough that she worries he's peeped on her before. Then she remembers something Becky said: most people's hair color is their pubic color too. Or, well, she said, 'carpets match the drapes,' but from Becky's mind, Anya knew what she was saying.
Something stirs in the real Anya as this man's fingers play at her imagined breasts, cupping them, his thumbs coming up to brush across fantasy-Anya's hardened nipple that does match her pink mouth. Anya knows her boobs aren't quite as big as this guy is thinking, but she's curious about her own body's reaction to this.
Something in her lower tummy is warming, almost like a slow melting, and Anya stares straight ahead in a daze as anticipation rises within her. Fantasy Anya is making lavish noises, begging and pleading for 'more' but real Anya is shaking. Nothing has ever affected her this way, and she stills when she starts thinking about her own things, filling in her own gaps.
And real Anya imagines it's Damian's long and deft fingers trailing down her stomach to ease the ache growing between her legs. She grows warm and in a rush, she feels wetness at her most secret of places. It's then, as she looks up with her face flushing in a new way, that she realizes her fantasizer can see her, as it's her on the bench that takes over his fantasy. The guy spreads her legs, his fingers trailing up her thighs and real Anya locks her legs together, crossing her legs at her ankles in alarm as fantasy Anya does the opposite, opening them for him.
In a rush, Anya packs up her things, haphazardly throwing her lunch away, misses the trash, and has to go back and reclean it up. She heads to the bathroom, surprised by the clear slickness that pooled in her panties. Anya wipes it up, embarrassed, curious, and a little… surprised. For too long, she stays in the bathroom, not daring to touch herself but cooling off with deep breaths.
She wonders who the guy was, thinking of her that way, but figures it will be a one-time thing. That perhaps he doesn't know her, simply saw her sitting on the bench and his thoughts got away from him. Anya gathers herself, getting out her map once more to figure out where her next class is. In the mirror she situates her long hair, noticing she does look a little like she did in the fantasy, more color to her face and her eyes somehow clearer. She wonders if she's seeing what she wants to see and briefly if she's pretty.
Usually, people's thoughts are centered on how strange she acts. When she was younger, a lot of kids called her stubby or uggo, and since she is still short, it must still be true. Anya decides to pay attention to other's thoughts as she passes, seeing if she can spot anyone interested in her. Not only to pin down the guy thinking about her so sexually, but also to see if she is pretty, since other people, unfortunately, get to decide that.
Anya frowns the entire time she follows the map to her class. No one is even paying attention to her, all stressing about their own looks and their own issues. Her mind is preoccupied, not looking where she is walking as she turns down another hall.
Someone else is making their way to class, just as introspective and lost in thought. Their long strides are making quick work of the distance, his eyes on his own map, and as Damian turns down the same hallway, there is a collision. He's much bigger, unmovable, and Anya's little body tilts backward, losing balance.
"Oh!" Anya exclaims as she falls, her arms flailing, tossing the map, and in a panic grasps onto Damian's imperial scholar cape. Reflexively, he tries to catch her, his one hand on her lower back, his other at her neck. He bends, and as they come to a stop, Damian looming over Anya in such an intimate hold, the two freeze.
-oh no- they both think, but for the first time, Anya's heart starts to race and her lower tummy warms once more. Her eyes widen and she releases an uneasy breath, his own hot exhale meshing with hers. Without thinking, Anya arches, mirroring the fantasy-Anya she'd seen during lunch.
"Sy-on, boy?" She whispers, and Damian's brain kick starts, his thoughts a disjointed mess, before he straightens, taking Anya with him as far from his body as his arms will extend.
He scowls his face burning, redder than she's ever seen before. "I'm honestly astonished you've stayed alive this long with how cluelessly you go through life!" He sidesteps her, grumbling under his breath, but his mind was an entirely different story. -She arched into me, I could have kissed her, should I have? No, no. That would be a terrible idea, counterproductive. But did she want me to?-
Anya is frozen, standing still at the junction of where the two halls cross. Did she want him to?
She did.
Anya's fingertips graze at the outline of her lips and she looks toward Damian's retreating form. He's so sure of himself, so composed and future-driven. An opposite to her, but as if drawn by some unexplained force, Damian looks back, their eyes locking across the distance. He doesn't glare, scowl or huff, he pinkens before going into their next class, thinking about how pretty she looks and wishing he were free.
She doesn't understand completely, but after a moment, Anya recovers, following him. He doesn't say a word as she sits beside him at the blacktop science table. The two of them are awkward, flushing, and a little out of sorts. Damian snaps his rubber band against the red welt forming at his wrist while prepping for class.
His mind is sharp and Damian recovers much faster but Anya is sentimental... he thought she was pretty.
The teacher walks in, telling the class his name, and what to expect in Human Physiology, but Damian's thoughts take a dark turn, chastising and angry. She isn't sure about what, so she turns to Damian. He's still stiff, but at least he isn't angled away from her. "Are you mad at me?" Anya whispers.
Damian sighs, looking over at her with kindness, not a drop of his usual icy facade. "No, not at all." His voice is low, but it cracks and he clears his throat, thinking about how hard these next few years will be as long as she's here at Eden too.
"You don't want to sit next to me?" Anya presses, her eyes filling slightly with tears and he straightens, leaning into her, wishing he could stop her feeling this way. He does want to sit with her, -I have to stay on top of my studies and you are my worst distraction.- She isn't sure what she's doing to distract him but she mutters, "I'll try my best not to get in your way. I'll be the best friend I can be to you."
He scowls then, his mask slipping back into place as he thinks, -I don't want to be your friend.- So viciously that she jerks, actually leaning away and wiping at her eyes as subtly as she can. It's then that the teacher's words come back into focus and he finishes, "-so make sure to complete that before tomorrow's class. It's part of the first weekly quiz."
Damian is furious, glaring over at her, asking, "What do we need to do?" But Anya blankly blinks, and his mind swirls -this is what I was worried about-, that she is a general obstacle to things that are important to him. He snaps at his wrist, stretching his fingers wide after the pinch of pain. The ache is growing intense with so much activity today.
After class, she asks the pair of students behind her what the assignment is from the beginning of class, writing it down to share with Damian, but as she turns back, he is gone. She frowns but this time, as she enters the class and meets Damian's eyes from across the room as he's already sitting in the back, Anya doesn't push it. She simply sits in the seat two rows in front of him, giving him his space. His mind whirls that they have -every FREAKING class together?! Whatever gods exist, they are punishing me, no, pushing me to squash this little problem I have. I will not fail, I will not let a little commoner take me to my knees!- And he snaps at his band as he thinks about Anya on her knees before him, her hands on his belt buckle.
The vision fades as Damian refocuses and Anya hunches, intent to do her best in class as well, for herself and her father, and also to show Damian. They still have physical education after this and Anya is mentally exhausted. She considers her day and figures it must have been the long-distance fantasy she stayed in for too long, or maybe the ups and downs of her friendship, or lack of one, with Damian that's drained her.
By the end of class, she's decided it doesn't matter. Her father has, on more than one occasion, wished Mission Strix to last for another ten years, their family a true one to them. Only, Anya knows her father's mission isn't why she wants to be closer to Damian. As soon as she meets up with Becky again, she tells her everything, all the seating arrangements, the rubber band, and the crash-catch-not-kiss in the hallway.
Becky takes actual notes, the two going into the girl's locker room to change. -This is perfect- Her dark-haired friend gushes, then stops as they pull out their gym uniforms. "Anya, you know I'll be on your side and help no matter what, but... you're sure Damian Desmond is for you? He bullied us both in elementary and turned reclusive and apathetic in middle school. Even as your friend, he was always pretty cold-hearted."
Anya smiles, grateful for Becky always looking out for her. "That's what he shows on the outside." She starts, shoving her things in her gym locker and taking off her shoes. "On the inside, and even when it's just us, he's himself, or at least different." Anya's sure he is always himself, he is multifaceted, rarely showing his kind side. Or maybe she should say his 'Anya-only side' as even in his mind he keeps things very under wraps.
"I hope he's a lot different." Becky huffs, shaking her head but perking up, thinking -A tsundere! I can work with that. That's how I'll frame my main love interest.- Anya frowns at Becky's thoughts but doesn't think much about it. Becky's always been wrapped up in love stories.
They change, Becky updating her on her day, which she spent primarily alone. "Lunch is going to be a bore if I don't find someone to talk to or something to do." Anya flushes, having left out her lunch experience from their update. The two are still huddling together as they exit the locker room and join their class on the field. Damian is there with his two friends, Emile and Ewen. Both understand Damian enough to count as friends but Damian is the third wheel when they do rarely hang out.
Anya purposefully doesn't look over at them, but knows they are here by their thoughts. Damian does notice her, thinking her shorts are tighter this year than last, snapping his wrist again with a wince he can't mask. Luckily their teacher starts, asking everyone to gather closer. "We'll be ending early today as we have our class picture in front of the main building scheduled. So no one is overly ruffled, we'll only warm-up. First, let me go over sports sign ups. Soccer this year is our main extracurricular. - Anya is ready for a nap and leans into Becky as she's also not paying attention, instead, thinking of romance titles.
She keeps her distance from Damian, Becky matching Anya's slower pace as they jog the track due to her smaller legs, and soon enough, the teacher is calling them in to change. With a heaving sigh, Anya is grateful she's made it through the first day of their tenth year. "I'm beat today, but going forward, we should study or do Yor's training sets after class. I'll ask my driver to pick me up before dinner." Becky plans and Anya agrees, glad to have her to push her into a good schedule.
They change and Becky spends a little extra time fixing Anya's longer hair, finger combing out the worst of the tangles from the day. Becky's hair is much easier now than it is back at shoulder length. The two walk together with their gym teacher leading them to the front of the main building. The photographer is there, directing kids. He stops, looking over her class, "Separate by height, shortest in front, tallest in back."
She's the shortest.
Anya fumes as her entire year is lining up on the front steps of Eden High. It takes a little time as the rest of the students are shifting around. Anya smiles as prettily as she can, wishing she had more stars. She has five Stellas, and two tonitrus bolts but one will fall off in a few months. Each expires after so many years. Still, she's proud to be here.
Damian is one of the taller students, making the highest step and he frowns as he looks for Anya a few heads in front of him. He situates his robe so the colors clearly show, his stars all in a perfect row. He watches her, the boy directly behind her dips forward and he frowns, thinking -did he smell her hair?- and Damian's stomach twists when the guy touches her shoulder and the two talk. He frowns when she laughs at whatever he says and he snaps his wrist, his rubber band breaking from the excessive abuse to both it and his wrist flesh.
Becky is in front of Damian, and although personally content, she looks back at him with the best glare she can manage. "I don't know why Anya thinks so highly of you- but you better be nice to her! Even if you turn her down, you take care of her feelings!" Her demands are heard and he coldly looks at Becky before deciding not to answer, the photographer announcing he is ready. Damien can't manage a smile, but the cold stare captures him perfectly. Becky angles to show her good side and after the picture is snapped, she finds Anya, who beamed with extra cheese.
It's then, as the crowd is dispersing, Becky telling her how cute she's going to look in the hall of history with the other Eden alumni class photos, that Anya remembers about the assignment. "Oh! I have to catch up to Damian. I have the details of an assignment he missed because of me." Becky shoos her off, walking towards her waiting car.
Anya climbs the steps, peering around to spot him and when she does she shouts, "SY-ON BOY!" He freezes, turning to her with an embarrassed flush as a few snicker around him. She runs, almost tripping but with a few quick steps, catches herself. Damian wills himself to turn away from her, to ignore her and go on, but he doesn't.
She's panting, her face flush and her eyes bright in the sun as she looks up at him, and Damian starts doing calculations to keep his mind focused as she looks so tempting. "I found out what we needed to do, I'm sorry I was talking while the teacher was. I'm going to try my hardest! I won't hold you back, Sy-on boy." Anya digs into her pack while she's talking, pulling out the slip of paper to give him. When he takes it their fingertips brush and Anya releases it, quick, surprised still that her skin reacts as it does- as if they soaked in his touch to keep an imprint for themselves. "I swear, I'll do whatever you want me to because I want us to be together!"
Her mouth snaps shut, Damian's mind whirling, her sweet voice echoing in his mind, 'I'll do whatever you want me to because... because...' and he scowls, shaking his head as if to physically rid him of the flashes of naughty fantasies filtering through his mind. He reaches for his band but it's lost, broken from the last snap not ten minutes ago. "Whatever." He mutters, the paper in his hand crinkling as his fists form. He turns, strolling toward the imperial scholar's hall, and Anya doesn't move, rooted in her spot as she smiles.
"Silly Sy-on boy," Anya hushes, listening to his sweet thoughts of her as he tries incredibly hard not to think of her at all.