Chapter Nineteen
—
Authors Note: Hi, sorry this update is so late!
Anya knew everything. She'd known since the beginning.
Loid thought for the tenth time that day. The document he picked up from a pile on the table, not really seen. Papers meant to prepare him for his next mission as he studied them the following afternoon since the SSS.
Anya knew everything, and she hadn't said a word, he thought again.
That Loid was a spy. That Yor was an assassin. About Operation Strix.
She'd known exactly what she was doing when she fixed them up at the tailor's. Known why Loid had asked her to pretend to be his biological daughter.
These were all assumptions, of course, as he hadn't asked her, yet. But he almost felt there was no need to, it was practically assured. How could she not?
The document was put down to pick up another.
He doubted he should bring it up, if it was already strongly insinuated. There wouldn't be much point other than to make Anya uncomfortable who seemed to be avoiding the topic.
He wasn't completely sure why. Maybe it was because it was something she just didn't talk about. She had probably never talked about it with anyone outside the lab.
Well, it didn't matter, he decided.
They had all the time to get to it, she'd bring it up when she wanted to.
He looked up from his work where he sat in the living room, his work covering half the coffee table. The other half, covered in Anya's drawings that she drew aggressively. Yor joining her on the floor, rendering different kinds of knives in vivid detail.
'How did I manage to end up with an assassin as a wife and a telepath for a daughter?' He thought, though he knew the answer.
It was all Anya's doing.
At the orphanage, she must've used her telepathy to appear smart, and he suspected she'd matched him with Yor because she was an assassin.
He would've wondered how she felt about their secret identities, but considering she knew from the start, he doubted she cared.
Or did she? How did she feel about Operation Strix? Did she feel used? Was she indifferent? She must know about it, when it was on his mind so much.
He wondered if he should ask.
But what was he going to do if Anya didn't want to help? How was he going to complete it without her? He couldn't very well scrap it, there was too much at stake.
Even if he adopted another child, he'd have to wait until next year. Then try to get them accepted in the same grade as Damian, though it was infamously harder to get children accepted after Primary.
And then there was the fact, that the board would be suspicious of why there was no application for the second child the same time as Anya. Or how she had a sibling so close in age that wasn't her twin.
He could say he adopted, but it was near impossible to get them enrolled, and he couldn't risk any trace of skepticism.
So Anya was his best shot, and if she wasn't willing to help, he wasn't sure what he was going to do.
He needed to have a talk with her, and if not for his mission the next day, he would have.
But as it was, he didn't find a time to mention it before the family stood outside waiting for the bus.
Where each parent held a hand and a hesitancy to send her off.
Anya, who was ready to go and see Becky, oblivious to it. The cloud of happiness she floated on, putting her in high spirits.
And why wouldn't she be? She had a promise from her parents that they'd always love her. Always keep her safe.
Loid had resorted to risky lengths to do so, and told the Handler he found very little that could be useful to W.I.S.E.
A statement which was technically true, but it was that very little piece he kept from them.
He turned his head at the yellow bus coming their way to stop at the curb. It's glass doors folding open to reveal the bus driver.
"Hide outside if there's another fire alarm." Loid said before Anya could leave.
"Be suspicious of everyone." Yor added.
"Tell the school you're sick and have to go home if you don't feel safe." Her Papa continued.
"Go for the knees if someone tries to take you again." Yor told her.
Anya sweat-dropped.
"K." She said, making to move forward when she jerked to a stop and slid back. Looked up at her parents who hadn't released her hands.
"Ya know. . ." Loid started.
"Maybe you should stay home for another week." Yor finished the thought.
Anya looked between them. Glanced at the bus driver who was waiting. Looked back to Loid and whispered, "What about Plan B?" Making him clear his throat.
'So she had known' Confirming what he suspected.
It was unsettling hearing her say that. Things he was still getting used to her knowing.
"Another week isn't going to hurt."
Anya removed her hands from her parent's and patted their legs.
"S'all good." She said to both of them, before getting on the bus.
They were less than enthusiastic when she waved to them as it drove off.
—
Anya Forger stepped off the bus onto Eden Academy grounds.
An eternity since she'd been here to her limited perception of time, the motion of alighting that last step, feeling surreal.
She had no more than two seconds to take in the familiar surroundings before Becky assailed her. A scarce glimpse of hair and fabric as she bowled into Anya. Becky, crying at the sight of the young Forger she now held tight.
"Anyaaaaaa! I missed you so muuuch!" Becky wailed. The call that told her Anya was coming today, an elated moment.
"Beckyyy!" She cried back, returning the hug.
"I was so worried! We couldn't find you! I'm so glad you're okaaay!" Blackbell blubbered, hanging onto Anya for a good long minute. Never wanted to worry if she was alive or dead ever, ever again. Never wanted to let go of her ever, ever again.
"Beckyyy." Anya repeated, not caring she was unashamedly bawling.
"I'm—I'm sorry I couldn't protect you like I promiiiised!." She sobbed. An irrational guilt lodged in her gut.
"It's not youur fauuult!"
"Never disappear ever again, okaaay?" Becky's crying, muffled, as she buried her face in Anya's shoulder.
"Okaaay." She promised.
"Never, ever agaaain." Becky said. Intended to hold her fast to the ironclad agreement, a semblance of comfort that she had it.
A semblance of relief that buried her anxiety as she clung to Anya, reluctant to release the small girl. Her physical assurance this wasn't a dream.
Clung to Anya for a couple minutes that felt like hours, until she was able to compose herself and dry her red eyes. Her face a little puffy when she pulled away.
A similar state on Anya as they considered each other and wiped at their cheeks.
"You look terrible." Becky giggled, a haphazard swipe at her jaw.
"You look terrible." Anya giggled, a sleeve to her eye.
Becky laughed and she cleared her face one more time. Held her hand out for Anya's, who didn't think twice as she took it.
The material that was wrapped around Anya's palms, immediately noticed in her own. The texture of thick gauze that wound it's way to the base of the fingers, soft and dense.
"Anya?" Becky lifted forger's hands. "What happened? Are you okay?" She asked, smile falling.
"Anya. . . Anya fell and scraped them." She lied as well as she could, a chagrined smile to brush it off as an arm was hid behind her back out of Becky's grasp.
She would never tell her the real reason she'd refused Becky's visits. That her uniform covered the bandages she hid from her.
Knew Becky didn't completely buy it, but she went with it and sighed at Anya's clumsiness.
"You really should be more careful." She said turning them towards the stairs where the school's gate proudly stood at the top.
Reached half-way when the bell rang, signalling school was starting soon.
"AH! Anya, run!" Becky bolted into action, the warning giving her speed. The refusal to gain any of the three tardies that earned a tonitrus bolt, spurring her on.
The race through the grounds and corridors in reckless abandon, motivated by it. Their classroom nearly overshot as they skidded to a stop, panting for breath.
After a second of rest, Forger followed Blackbell's example as she fixed her posture and steadied her breathing. The tear through the halls, disregarded, to walk inside with the utmost grace.
The Hall fell quiet at Anya's entrance and it was astounding how unprepared she was for a supposedly simple action.
Many pairs of eyes, landing on her in surprised curiosity that prickled at her skin. The motion to walk to her seat, heavier than it should've been.
Her every step warned her not to meet their stares. To avoid their attention. To avoid one student's in particular who straightened at the sight of her pink hair.
He forgot to breathe when he zeroed in on her, no idea she was coming today. The announcement made last week, had only mentioned she was found. Not when she was going to return.
He watched in amazement as she sat with her best friend who had never looked so happy.
'What is this?' He wondered, unable to look away. The sudden lightness that came from nowhere, mixed with a tenseness that compelled him to to do something, but he didn't know what.
Was he sick?
"Welcome back, Miss Forger." Professor Henderson said warmly, a heartbeat before the second bell rang.
"Good morning, class. I trust you've done the assigned reading." He addressed them. "Turn to page two hundred and ten in your textbooks." He said as he wrote on the board.
"Hey." Ewen whispered, absent-mindedly doing as the professor said. "Did you guys know Forger was coming?" He asked, Desmond, not the only one stunned by her attendance.
Emile and Damian shook their heads, flipping through their books.
"What do think happened?" Emile murmured conspiratorially. The stories that had been going around, making everyone wonder.
"Ransom?" Ewen guessed, a speculated theory at the moment.
"No." Damian answered distractedly, attention still on Forger.
"What?" Asked Emile, genuinely surprised he offered an opinion.
"Um." He uttered, realizing he spoke it, not thought it. "She's a commoner. They didn't go to all that trouble for a few measly coins." He scorned, his cold attitude a big fat lie.
"What else could it be, then?" Ewen wondered, Damian pondering the same thing.
The question he'd been asking ever since she was kidnapped, the answer impossible to find. The nurse could have taken any one of them, but it was all too planned. Too targeted on Forger.
If she wanted any of the students she could have easily planned something less complicated. She didn't need to plant herself as a nurse at the school and set the alarm off.
But she did.
And she went for Forger.
A nobody.
Or so he once thought.
What kind of importance did Forger hold to this person to warrant that much scheming? To warrant that much effort?
Maybe it was a personal thing and she was the regular person he thought she was. The other option, that she held a high status of some sort and someone was after her?
If that was the case, the nurse was probably hired. People in high positions don't do that sort of thing themselves.
But that didn't work, either. If they just wanted her dead, they could have hired a regular hitman. And if they were going to sell her off somewhere, it would've already happened. She was gone long enough, that it would've been too late to rescue her.
And if it was personal. . .they still could've wanted her dead, and it still didn't make sense.
The only other thing he could think of, was maybe she had something they wanted, but what could a kid like her have? Or sometimes parents would track down their runaway children, but that was automatically ruled out.
Her parents already had her.
So what in the world happened? None of this made sense!
If the nurse was going to kidnap her, the least she could have done, was leave some clues!
. . .
. . .
. . .
Wait a second, he backtracked.
They planted a nurse and set off the fire alarm. They planted a nurse. And set off a fire alarm.
How did he not think to question this before?
Anya had passed out that day, the reason she was sent off with the nurse in the first place. Did the nurse know that was going to happen? Did the nurse do something to Forger? How? When? Wouldn't Forger have noticed if she did? But Anya was accounted for the whole morning, nothing could have happened. So what was wrong with her, then?
That was a question too; Why was Anya sick? Until the alarm went off, she was fine. Damian presumed she didn't like the blaring, but then she was still sick when it stopped.
There were too many weird things about her he couldn't piece together and loathed that it took as much attention as it did.
Reasoned it with is incredible intelligence. That he was just so smart, he should be able to figure this out. And that if he did, he could use it to lord over her head.
He couldn't help the peek at her, sitting in her seat. The disbelief she was actually here after getting so used to her absence.
Saw Blackbell pointing out a page, trying to help her keep up. The six weeks of missing out on schoolwork, leaving Anya in the dust.
He didn't think he'd looked at her long, but he saw her stiffen. A slight movement of her head to the right, like she'd caught herself from looking back.
It happened again.
He hadn't forgotten about it.
Damian knew there had to be something more to that, but it continued to elude him.
The idea that it was really anything, made him feel foolish. Wanted to chalk it up to her weird personality, but he couldn't.
"Hey, do you think she's okay?" Emile asked, dragging Damian back to the present.
"She was gone for a long time, what if something happened?" He continued, stabbing a jolt into Damian's heart he didn't understand.
"You think?' Ewen replied. "She looks fine, though?"
Emile shrugged. "I dunno. Doesn't a person get hurt when they're kidnapped?"
It was pure curiosity that drove the question, but it dug a new hole in Damians mind.
He was very aware of it, and knew why the question bothered him now. Rationalized his concern for her away. That it was terrible it'd happen to anyone.
Yeah. That was it. He wasn't worried about her specifically. It was just a bad thing to happen to anyone. He could recognize when something called for at least the minimum of humanity.
The boys went back to their books before they were caught chatting and listened to the professor talk, the lesson starting to drone on.
Damian stole another couple shots at Forger, who was still there. Half-expected her to vanish, or that he was hallucinating.
But she was still there, and could sense him looking at her. Sensed others snatching glances as well.
It was normal, she supposed. Expected the kidnapping that grabbed their attention, to fizzle out soon enough.
But, Damian.
She'd forgotten he'd been picking up on her quirks, the issue drowned out by everything else. She figured he'd let it go after some time (if she acted normal), leaving her rather unconcerned.
She was more worried about Becky who'd been looking to her quite often.
Telepathy wasn't needed to know she had a lot of questions. Knew she would ask them, eventually. Anya, having no clue what she'd tell her. Would probably try to avoid them completely.
It comforted her to know, that despite Becky's curiosity, her happiness was more prominent. That her glances were also to assure her that Anya was sitting next to her.
And Anya very much agreed to the sentiment.
It had to be a miracle that she was able to sit with her in school again. The pure joy, enabling her to ignore the other kids all through class. The Professor writing homework assignments on the chalkboard when the bell rang.
"Alright, copy this down and you're dismissed." Henderson said, a stick tapping on the board. The professor tidying his desk before leaving Cecil Hall. Something to attend to in his limited time between teaching.
The chatter sprouted up among students as soon as he left, the scratching of hurried writing before they shuffled books into bags.
"Don't worry, I'll catch you up during study hour." Becky offered as she fastened her bag's clasp. Aware of Anya's less than stellar grades, and worried the school's leniency wasn't guaranteed.
"Thanks, Becky." Anya said sheepishly, a chance she'd make it through the rest of the semester after all.
"Doubt it'll help." Damian scoffed from the step behind her, Anya turning to see him descend the rest of the way, followed by his friends.
He carried the same arrogance and entitlement he always had. Carried the same smirk he always gave when he taunted at her. Acted like she'd never been gone, back to the usual quips, but his mood appeared better than usual.
He was about to speak again when someone interrupted. The voice, causing him to tsk in annoyance.
"Hey." A girl with brown, curly hair appeared in front of her, a student who sat on the left side of the room with her friends.
She hefted her backpack as she came to stand in front of her desk.
"Paige?" Anya guessed. She had never really spoken to her.
"You're actually here. After all the rumours floating around, I'm glad you're okay. Everyone was really worried." Paige smiled, not correcting the name, so it must've been right.
"Oh. . . thanks." Anya replied, baffled. "Rumours?" She repeated, looking to Becky who shrugged.
She hadn't heard anything.
"You don't know?" Paige said. "I guess it is only the first period. But a bunch of kids thought you were dead, or sold off somewhere and some thought you were taken for your organs. That's a couple of em, anyway, there's a few going around." She said.
"What?" Anya laughed nervously.
"Yeah, you should hear some of the crazy ones. But you're okay, right?" Paige asked, leaning against the front of her desk.
This was weird.
Anya didn't know why Paige was talking to her, her friendly smile asking something she couldn't determine. An understanding the kids might be curious, but didn't expect any to actually approach her.
They never had before, so why start now?
Anya dipped into her thoughts at the apprehension building. A voice that advised caution.
She didn't like what she found.
Forger nodded to her question. How did she get out of this conversation?
She should leave before Paige said anything else. Should have realized this might happen. Should have known they'd want answers wether they were friends or not.
Anya made sure her bag was closed, intending to extricate herself. The action costing her, the action too late.
"So. . .what happened?" Said the girl, freezing Anya before she could move. An inquiry asked at normal volume, but heard over the chatter.
The conversations stopped as a slow hush reached to the back. A chill, slithering down every nerve Anya had. Little hairs bristling on the back of her neck.
She could feel them waiting, an intense focus on the girls at the front.
They had been gossiping about this for weeks, wondering what happened. Waited to hear which one of the rumours were true.
They wanted to know what Anya had to say.
"Um . . ." She said, wishing she'd prepared for this earlier. The stares that jabbed little needles into her neck, not helping.
"Like. . . who took you?" Paige elaborated, voice serious and clandestine. Her smile gone, replaced with inquisitive eyes. A curiosity she hoped Anya would quench.
"Um. . . ." Anya faltered. What did she say? What did she say? She was terrible at lying. What would her Papa do? He was good at this, how was he good at this?
"Yeah, where were you?" Paige's friend asked from her seat in the second farthest row. A confidence boost from the girl who waited unflinchingly before Anya.
Her head whipped around to look at her, confronted with the other's who openly stared. Most of them packed up and ready to go, but halted in place, as if they couldn't move until they heard.
"Um. . ." Anya was frozen. Stuck, trying to make her brain work. Their eyes boring into her, making her sweat. Palms clamming up at the questions she couldn't answer. The strained tension that held back the others, holding looser and looser.
"Did the police show up!? Was there any shooting?!" A boy excitedly asked from the back. Imagining gun fights and tactical gear like he'd seen on tv.
The questions of other students, spurred on by his sudden burst. A fairly quiet room, exploding with noise.
"Yeah, what happened?"
"Did you get to ride in a cop car?"
"Who kidnapped you?"
"Were there sirens?"
"How many bad guys were there?"
"Were you scared?"
"Who was the nurse?"
"Did anyone die?" The last word emphasized dramatically.
Anya couldn't speak, her head starting to pulse as too many thoughts shoved their way in. The need to leave, rising.
"How come you weren't here last week?"
"Were you in another country?"
"What did they want with you?"
Anya covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Are you really a foreigner from a royal family?
"What did—"
"SHUT UP!" Damian shouted before Becky could beat him to it. "You're so noisy! It's annoying!"
Instant silence. A thunder of resonant nothing. Stark quiet that killed their voices.
The children glanced at each other nervously. The Desmond they're parents always told them to be nice to, demanding they heed him.
"Tch!" Damian tossed his head to the side in cool irritation. The picture of cold disdain from a boy who commanded respect. The others, not sure how to respond.
'WHAT DID I DO THAT FOR?! WHAT IN THE WORLD DID I DO THAT FOR?! IT JUST HAPPENED!' Damian thought, not an inkling of it, showing on his face.
'She covered her ears!' He continued angrily. 'And . . . and she looked she was going to cry!. . . . but it's not like I care! She was being a whimp! They were just annoying!'
He snuck a look at Forger from the corner of his eye.
She no longer blocked her ears, but gripped at her head. Her eyes shut, refusing to look at Becky who fussed over her.
It was happening again, he realized and his head turned to face her fully at the new insight hitting him. As low whispers picked up and students slowly left their desks. As they eyed him warily and shot glances Forger's way.
When the fire alarm went off, it looked like she was sick. But it was just the noise. It was the noise now that bothered her.
But she still clamped at her head, like it hadn't passed.
Did the nurse know this about her? That chaotic noises bothered her this much? Is that why she set off the alarm? Did she know it'd create a situation like this she could took advantage of?
How would she know of it the first place?
As the room petered out, though, he noticed Forger relax. She opened her eyes at the lack of people and lowered her hands at the empty room.
Empty except for the five of them.
Ewen and Emile, confused why they hadn't left also.
Damian couldn't look away when her gaze fell on him in surprise. It was unbelievable to see her face so clearly. The view he had from his seat when she walked in, feeling like such a long distance now.
It didn't occur to him how weird it would be to look at her after six and half weeks. Six and a half weeks that many thought she'd never return from.
It was amaz— no, it was just weird.
"Tch." Damian spun around before anyone could speak to saunter out of the hall in icy indifference.
The scene that just ensued playing over and over.
Convinced it was wholly based on his private analysis taking place. The answers she failed so spectacularly to give, making him more curious.
Her reaction was understandable (glazing over the fact he'd called her a whimp not a couple minutes ago), but it was more extreme than one would expect.
Why couldn't she answer? What didn't she want to talk about?
'There has to be something more to this, there just has to be', he thought.
He had left her in the last classroom, but he saw her again in the next. Wondering how to investigate this.
All he had were a few weird things about her, and suspicions about her kidnapping. Nothing concrete to really go off.
Talking to her wasn't an option, either. He wouldn't deign to ask her questions he knew she wouldn't answer.
Becky was glaring at anyone who even looked in Anya's direction, anyway, canceling that out as an option.
That left him with observation and . . . and. . . .
And his brain!
. . .
. . .
. . .
Well, his brain was brilliant, but it wasn't quite enough. Despite his extraordinary intellect, he needed clues.
Damian sighed inwardly.
This was going to be harder than he thought.
—-
Anya flipped through the textbook, depressed.
How was she supposed to catch up to it all? Becky promised to help, but she was beginning to doubt it'd make a difference.
'This isn't gonna make Papa happy, either. . . ', Anya thought wryly. All the homework he'd have to explain to her. The grades that could get her expelled if she didn't keep them up.
The risk to Operation Strix.
She sighed, deciding to just copy what the chalkboard said for now. To write what the teacher spoke.
The class dragging on forever, her voice trying to put her to sleep.
No! She could. Not. Sleep! Anya, startling herself into focus, resisting the bad habit.
She had to concentrate. She had to learn this stuff.
Put in every ounce of effort to stay awake until the end of class. The task proving more difficult than she thought. The bell ringing, a blessed sound as they closed their books.
It was going to be a long day if every subject was like this. Maybe she should have stayed home another week.
No. Then the homework would build up even more.
"You ready?" Becky stood. Getting them out of the classroom quickly, in an attempt to avoid the others.
"Yep." Anya joined her as they left. Becky, eyeing anyone who might bother them on their way out.
Continued to do so at the next class.
Anya slept through it.
Continued to do so again. And a fourth time as they sat at lunch, Becky catching her up to the last six weeks.
"Nothing much happened."
And that was it.
"It was just school, and more school and a lot of—. . .." Becky paused, fork stabbed in her food.
She shouldn't tell Anya how miserable she was. That would just make her feel bad.
"Oh." Becky said. "I guess Desmond came to sat with me a couple times, which was really weird, but that's it."
"Sy-on boy? But you hate each other." Said Anya.
"mmMMmmM." Becky hummed, shrugging. Took a bite of her beef. "What abou—" Another pause.
She'd almost asked what Anya had been up to, automatically. As if the time she was gone, was a vacation.
She did have a lot of questions, but Anya probably didn't want to talk about it. Had been holding back all morning, knowing she shouldn't probe.
How did Becky ask where she'd been? Who kidnapped her? Why did they take her? Did anyone hurt her? Was she lying about her hands? Was she really okay? Did she know someone was after her before it happened? She'd been acting all squirrelly, it was weird. And if so, why didn't she say something? Would she ever tell Becky what happened?
She looked to her, and caught Anya casting her an uneasy side-glance, then an instant smile to gloss over it.
'Weird. . .'
Could Anya tell she wanted to ask? She thought she'd been hiding it pretty well, but maybe not.
"What about your show?" Anya distracted her, Becky never having to think how to answer that.
Berlint in Love was her favourite program, loved talking about it. But she hadn't watched it since Anya went missing, the passion for it, gone, like her best friend.
"Becky?" Anya asked, concern growing on her face.
No way was she that obvious. Was she? Anya was reading her like an open book, how was she doing that?
Becky waved it away. "Just haven't had time to watch it lately. Been pretty busy."
"Mmm. . ." Anya said, not convinced and returned to eating, Becky as well.
A lull between them.
Blackbell picked at her rice as she searched for a topic that wasn't taboo.
"Oh! Let's go shopping this weekend. " She suggested, erasing the awkwardness.
The prospect of spending recreational time with Becky after so long, lighting up Anya's features.
Lunch put on the back burner as they planned the trip in anticipation.
Entirely oblivious to the boy a few tables down, aware of their presence. Aware of their laughter. Aware of her laughter.
A sound he hadn't heard in over a month and a half, accosting his eardrums. A sound slipping past the other kids to distract him from Ewen talking.
Damian looked their way, Forger and Blackbell smiling and chatting. The unnatural sight of Becky sitting alone, gone.
Forger paused to gape at something Becky said, making him snort in amusement.
"Boss?" Emile drawn to the noise, Ewen's story halted.
"WhatNothing." Damian's tone, calm, but rushed. The boys, searching the direction he turned away from, spotting the girls.
"Are they annoying you? Should we tell them to shut up?" Ewen asked loyally.
"Yeah! I bet they're sitting there mocking you. I wouldn't put it past them. They probably think they can do whatever they want now." Emile said, Ewen nodding along.
"Don't bother." Damian said, instantly deflating their enthusiasm. "Of course they're annoying, but it's not like they'll listen." He said in an uncharacteristic display of inaction. Preventing further debate as he dug into his food.
"Oh. . . ok. . ." Emile said, raising his eyebrow at Ewen who shrugged and shook his head.
Honestly, they couldn't tell what he was thinking sometimes.
They left it alone as they went back to eating, Ewen, returning to his story.
Damian chiming in occasionally, but her stupid laugh kept ringing in his ears. Her stupid smile imprinted on his brain. Her stupid face. . .
She was sitting there with her. . .her st—her stupid face. . .
He looked at her again, still caught in the reality that she was back. Still caught at the sight of her being here.
Not that he cared. Of course not. It was just strange.
That was all.
Yeah. . . that was all.
Is what he told himself, but the more he looked at her, the more he. . . wanted to go over there?
What for?!
Oh. Because she was being annoying.
That's right.
To tell her to shut up. To stop being a pest. To stop bothering the one and only Damian Desmond.
But how stupid would that be? It was the cafeteria. Everyone was loud. Why was only Forger bothering him?
No! Forger and Blackbell, He amended. Repeated it. Repeated it.
"Tsk!" He looked away, violently digging into his food, his friends once again drawn to his odd behaviour.
He didn't care! Of course he didn't care!
"Hey, Boss, if it's really bothering you, let's just go over there!" Suggested Ewen. "How dare they anger you, the great Lord Damian?!" His words making Desmond stop to look at him, suddenly brought out of his head.
He took too long to answer. "What. . . n-"
"Yeah, c'mon, let's go!" Emile fortified Ewen's outrage with his own, the duo expectantly waiting for Damian as they stood.
Well. . . what was he supposed to do now?
"Right. . . yeah. . ." He dropped his fork, instantly regretting it when he got down from the bench.
This was so stupid.
Walked past the tables, getting closer and closer.
This was so stupid.
Forger's features getting clearer and clearer.
This was so stupid.
Came to stand at the end of the table where they sat.
This.
Was so stupid.
Forger shifted to look at him. Damian's muscles tensing and turned to stone as he met her eyes.
They were as green as ever. The brightest things he'd ever seen. What an eye-sore.
"Hey." He said stiffly, before his friends could embarrass him, breaking his gaze from her unwavering one.
"Sy-on boy?" She spoke to him, the first words directed his way since her return.
"So, you're back, huh?" He sniffed haughtily, looking down his nose at her.
"What do you want, Desmond?" Blackbell asked, irritated that he was interfering with their free time together.
He clicked his tongue at her tone. Tried to think of something to say. Anything to justify his visit at their table that didn't sound dumb.
"Sy-on boy?" Forger prompted.
Again.
That stupid voice.
What was with her stupid voice!
"I don't care!" He suddenly blurted out as his face warmed. His friends and the girls startled by the outburst. A few heads angling their way at the ruckus.
"What?!" Blackbell asked, matching Forger's perplexed expression.
Damian went quiet for a moment as he composed himself. Smirked as if it hadn't just happened.
"I don't care." He repeated. "I came to say that you'll get no pity from me just 'cause you went missing. You're still an uggo shrimp of a commoner, so don't think anything has changed." He folded his arms imposingly, the perfect reason.
Yeah.
That's why he came over here.
Forger deadpanned at the response, completely undaunted by him. She had a feeling Operation Strix wouldn't get very far today. In fact, it felt like it was going backwards.
"Why would Anya want it?" She said, repelled, before Blackbell could toss insults at them and possibly her food.
Desmond gritted his teeth, face heating again.
"Don't talk to Lord Damian that way! You'd only be so lucky!" Ewen said, Emile joining in.
"Stupid uggo!"
"Yeah! Stupid uggo!"
"Shut up!" Damian commanded, the boys instantly quiet.
They were making enough of a scene as it was, they should just leave, but—
He narrowed his eyes at Forger. Her indifferent attitude holding an unimpressed visage.
They were expecting them to leave as they always did, but his feet couldn't seem to.
They were rooted to the floor, preventing him.
"Um. . . boss?" Emile asked, wondering what was going on. The silence among them a little awkward. Even Blackbell was quiet.
Why didn't he want to leave?! It certainly couldn't be to keep looking at her!
Heck no! He was suspicious! Yeah! He wanted to know what was up with her!
He couldn't outright ask her though, she wouldn't tell him. He had to be stealthy. Had to be tactful.
Noticed her face change slightly to uncomfortable.
Smugly assumed his glare was getting to her.
He had confidence he would figure this out. Figure her out. His feet un-glueing from the ground, leaving without a word. The boys, following behind.
". . . Weirdo. . . " Becky commented at his departure.
Anya agreed whole-heartedly.