-Anya POV-
"I can't believe that he would do something like that to you, Anya. I really thought he loved you," Becky whispered, as Anya sat there blank faced, staring at the ceiling.
"No, Becky, you were right. All guys are just bad people who just want to use women. Besides, I knew well that Sy-on Boy- I mean Desmond- was a player. I just didn't want to believe it," Anya whispered, her voice hoarse.
Becky rolled her eyes,
"It's not your fault he's an idiot who doesn't realize that you're the only good thing that has ever happened to him. Hey, cheer up. You want to go shopping? Everything's on me."
Anya sighed, her best friend knew her too well,
"Alright."
Becky smiled, standing up,
"Give me just a second, I think I heard a knock at the front door. Let me make sure it's not any of the paparazzi again."
Anya nodded as Becky ran off, her black heels clicking rapidly across the wooden floorboards. She wished that she had enough hand-eye coordination to be able to do something like that, although Anya knew that it had taken Becky much practice to be able to run in such high heels without breaking something.
Anya stared, deep in thought, mesmerized by Becky's room. It was so busy, with every corner of it covered with something. The walls were full of popular boy band posters and cutouts of Becky's bias, some dude who's name Anya could never remember.
She was so deep in thought that she almost didn't hear Becky's scream,
"You're not coming anywhere near her, you bastard, Damian Desmond."
Anya stood straight up. Damian? Was here? She had to be dreaming.
"Becky?" She called out, peeking out of the room and slowly heading down the stairs. Anya heard a loud thud,
"Anya, don't come down here. Security! Get him off my property," Becky commanded. Anya wanted to laugh; Becky would make a great president one day.
"Anya. What are you doing here?" Damian shouted through the crack of the door that Becky hadn't managed to shut on him yet.
Becky scowled, trying to force the door closed,
"None of your business, you fucker. You don't deserve someone as good as Anya."
Damian pushed back against her, gritting his teeth,
"I didn't come here to talk to her, Blackbell-"
Becky's eyebrows went up,
"Then what are you here for, shit-head?"
Anya slowly walked down the stairs, staring at the image in front of her. How much things had changed from only a couple of hours ago.
"I'm here to show her something."
Becky scoffed,
"What? Your non-existent brain? I know exactly what you said to her and I don't think that anything you could offer her could make up for that. To be honest, Desmond, I think I should close this door on you right now and make sure that you never step foot anywhere close to Anya ever again. I should make your life a fucking hell for the way that you treated my best friend. You think she's so easily replaceable and that you can just treat her like everyone else? Well let me tell you something, you're so fucking wrong. How about that you stupid man child?"
Anya put a hand on her best friend's shoulder, her words almost reducing her to tears. Becky had really thought all that about her?
"It's okay, Becky. Let him in. I want to hear what he has to say."
"Anya. You can do so much better than him," Becky pleaded.
Anya shook her head,
"It's okay, Becky."
Becky threw up her hands, exasperated,
"Fine. I'm going to be in my room if you need something."
Damian slowly crept in, closing it softly behind him as Becky went up the stairs to her room.
"What do you want now, Damian? Do you want to hurt me more? Was seeing me suffer at my home not enough for you?" Anya scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest as they both sat down on the couch.
Damian shook his head,
"I'm truly sorry about what I said to you earlier."
Anya rolled her eyes,
"Right. And let me guess, now you want me to kiss you and pretend everything is alright?"
Damian sighed,
"Anya, I have to tell you the truth."
He began unbuttoning his white collared shirt, his fingers deftly working the buttons, quickly getting them out of the holes. He pulled down the sleeves, exposing his bare chest and back to her.
There were so many scars, everywhere, all over his back. Anya gasped, running a finger over one gently.
"Damian. What happened?"
Damian sucked in his breath, and let it go slowly. It was warm, misting over her neck. She shuddered slightly,
"I did."
Anya's eyes widened,
"Damian."
Damian shook his head,
"Well, not all of them. Like the one you were just touching was from my father, though the one right above it is mine."
Anya's eyes widened as her hand moved to the one he had just mentioned,
"This one?"
Damian nodded, and pointed to many others. They were less faded compared to the ones by his father.
"How long has this been going on Damian? I mean only if you want to tell me-"
Damian looked down,
"I haven't cut in about a year."
Anya nodded,
"I'm so proud of you, Damian."
tyyy for reading 333