-Damian POV-

He couldn't believe that he had done it. After waiting for so long, he'd just done it? It felt so strange, but good. Her lips felt so right against his, the way his hand fit on her waist, the way the floor felt beneath them. He could live in that moment forever. He could die there, just with her. Always her. The world could crash and burn and fuck him over so many times, but as long as he had her-

"Anya? Are you okay?"

She was staring at the wall behind him, her face neutral, her face so blank for someone who had just been kissed. Had she hated it?

"Yeah, what's wrong?"

"I thought you hated it."

Her eyebrows shot up, full of worry,

"I could never hate you, Damian Desmond."

His heart was skipping beats, he couldn't control it. God what she was doing to him was so deadly. The power she held over his heart was insane. God how cruel Anya was,

"You mean it?"

"Of course I do," she whispered in his ear, leaning in and pressing her lips against his.

This kiss was so different, he thought, as she pushed him on his back, much harder, too close. She was on top of him, her lips still pressed against his, her tongue intertwined with his, her arms wrapped around his SHIRT?

His mind went wild, racing everywhere. She was too close, too much all at once. He shifted, pushing her off gently. No. She couldn't see that-

"What-" She whispered breathlessly,

"Don't touch me there," He hissed, getting up, re-adjusting his shirt, tucking it back into his belted trousers. She'd gotten too close to discovering his secret. He'd let down his guard far too much these days, and she knew it, but god did those big green eyes looking at him like that pain him. She couldn't know. She couldn't find out what horrors he'd done.

"I need to leave," He adjusted his uniform's tie, heading to the hallway. Leaving her felt like hell. Staying with her felt like the eye of a storm, a dangerous one that he would have to face sooner or later. Later. Despite his type A personality, Damian Desmond was not one to want to deal with his problems.

"What did I do wrong, Sy-On Boy?" Anya called out, following him to the entrance,

Damian sighed,

"Nothing, and that's the god damn problem, Anya. You're too good for someone like me."

Anya shook her head,

"But if you love me, then why can't we be together?"

Damian clenched his fists. He had to end this. Now.

"Because you're a stupid child trapped in the body of a woman. Can't you grow up for once and see reality? You can't do anything for yourself; I can't believe that they would let someone like you into Eden Academy. You cling to everyone and get emotional way too easily. You are violent and hit so many people. Don't you ever wonder why everyone avoids you and no one ever comes up to you except for freaks? It's not because you're pretty or whatever bullshit reason I told you. It's because you're a freak, Anya. You're exactly like them. A freak that I should have never gotten involved with. God I wish I had never met you."

His heart was shattering into a million, no a billion, or some number he could hardly imagine, pieces. Tiny shards all pierced his body, making him bleed out. God looking at her was hell. He was her hell.

Anya stood there expressionless,

"You're a bad liar, Damian Desmond, but sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night. You can leave now."

Damian scoffed; no reaction? She was joking, wasn't she. Shouldn't she at least pretend to care somewhat? Fine,

"Is that all you have to say to me? For someone who was just about to pull off my shirt, you seem rather nonchalant now."

"Fuck you, Damian Desmond," She whispered, her voice hoarse. He was the most horrible person.

He laughed bitterly; fuck this life,

"There we go. You can't hide your feelings to save your life. Did you really think someone like

me would care about you, Anya Forger?"

He opened the door to her apartment, gently letting it shut behind him. He was the biggest idiot in the world, but at least his secret was still safe.

He walked home, listening to the chatter of all those around him. Unlocking his door, the house was silent again. He was all alone-

He collapsed onto his bed, pulling off the wicked red tie and slowly unbuttoning his white dress shirt. Damian looked at himself in the mirror, the scars adorning his torso. Some were done by his father, some by his brother, but the ugliest ones were by the knife in the kitchen that he had brought to his room everyday for a year. It still was there, taunting him some days and nights.

He remembered the last night that he had touched it.

The day of the first time he told her he liked her.

He slowly walked towards the kitchen, thinking about all his attempts to tell her of his true feelings throughout the years. The gestures he made, the teasing, it was all so juvenile.

But that day was different.

He had come to school determined that he would finally tell her the truth. He had managed to come all the way up to her and strike up a conversation.

And then, his mind went wrong. All the thoughts kept coming, bubbling up. He was sinking and drowning.

And if she had found out about what he did to himself? She would think him even more repulsive.

So that night, he picked up the knife for the last time, and held the blade tightly, weeping. He still could feel its call, many days, days especially like this one, but he thought of her.

But she wasn't here anymore. She would never love someone like him.

tyyyy for reading 3