Damian's refusal to speak to Anya was resolute, to the point that she wondered if there was any way that she could reduce the tension between them, if just to make the journey that much more bearable. The bus ride lasted hours, and the entire time, Damian sat straight as a flagpole, utterly resisting even entertaining the idea of relaxing next to her, even for just a minute.

She tried to stare out of the window, to distract herself from his warmth next to her, but it was hard to ignore him. So, when he leaned into his satchel, to pick up a book, of course she glanced over out of curiosity. She imagined that this was his way of trying to ignore her, and just that thought made her stomach churn with all sorts of emotions, namely guilt and hurt, but also a few others that were harder to describe.

But, staring at the book cover, it was pretty obvious that his attempt at ignoring her was having very little effect. He hadn't even noticed that he was holding the book wrong, or that he was squinting with concentration at the pages, apparently unable to even read them.

"Umm, Sy-on," said Anya carefully. "Why is your book upside-down?"

Damian froze. Shit.

His cheeks flaming with embarrassment, Damian slammed the book shut and stuffed it back into his bag. "It was dumb anyway," he mumbled and folded his arms defensively across his chest.

She almost laughed. He had resorted back to his tactic of trying to stare resolutely ahead, thoroughly ignoring her, but if she knew Damian, he probably felt just as embarrassed as her at that moment in time. Probably even more so.

Anya clenched her fists on her knees, and tried her best to pretend to herself that everything was fine and normal, but it was utterly futile. She couldn't ignore Damian's burning presence next to her, and even though they didn't touch (he made quite certain of that), it felt as though her entire body was aware of his every move. Like he was a magnet, and she was a spinning compass, helplessly reactive to his very existence. It didn't help that everything that happened in the last few days spun through her head, dizzying her even more.

It was so obvious that he didn't want to sit next to her, that he would rather be doing literally anything else, and it didn't give Anya any joy to know she only had herself to blame. If she had noticed it sooner, she could have given herself more time. If only she had more time, she could have actually thought about what to do with the newfound knowledge about Damian's feelings towards her. How was she supposed to know what to do in the space of their conversation? But then, it was partly her fault, too, that it happened so quickly. The pieces that had been laid out in front of her finally, finally, clicked into place, and instead of waiting, and consolidating the information - like Twilight would do - she just blurted it out like an amateur. If only she hadn't asked him about his feelings towards her, if only she had given herself more time, if only she knew what to say, what to do, if only, if only -

With a flash, Anya suddenly recalled the conversation that they were having before she blurted out that stupid question, and a thought stuck out to her, one that was not objectively important as the rest, but intrigued her all the same.

"Sy-on…" she said cautiously, and at the sound of his nickname (or more realistically, her voice), he jolted in his seat, as if she had burned him. She tried to ignore how that stung her, and instead tried to gather her courage. "What you said earlier… Did you really mean that?"

Damian gave her a sardonic look, subtly letting her know that she would have to be more specific.

"When you said you would 'help'," Anya clarified, and sucked in a nervous breath. "Did you mean it?"

Damian's eyes narrowed for a moment, trying to remember what she meant, when recognition flashed through his eyes and he stared at the ceiling, embarrassed. "Well… I wouldn't… not do something." His voice sounded strained, like he had to force himself to talk to her.

Knowing that he was trying to avoid the question, Anya raised a curious eyebrow. "What would you have done?"

Damian opened his mouth, about to say something, when he crossed his arms and huffed: "I don't want to talk about it."

Fine, Anya thought to herself. Two could play at that game. If he didn't want to say it out loud, she had an entire repertoire of ways to make him tell her.

"You can tell me now," she said, "or I could find out later," and she playfully wiggled her eyebrows at him, silently communicating that she could definitely find out on her own if she wanted to.

"You wouldn't!" Damian exclaimed in horror, but Anya was serious. She had lost her playful smile, and after a few seconds, when her face didn't lose its' serious stare, Damian knew he was beaten. "Fine. I was going to suggest-"

His mouth dried up, and he tried again. "I guess I could have-"

Damian halted again, and Anya took an educated guess that, as usual, the words just weren't coming out. Judging by thoughts he had around her before, he probably thought that it was far too embarrassing to say out loud, or that something else was stopping him from sharing his innermost thoughts and feelings.

She waited patiently as he took another bracing breath. "Well what I mean is-"

A small smile glimmered through her serious facade, and Anya edged closer to him on the cramped bus seat. "Do you want some help?"

"Absolutely not!" He yelped, a bit too quick. "I mean…"

Anya waited in silence, her head tilted to the side. She watched when he pursed his lips, and blew out a quick breath, clearly building his strength, and the anticipation built in her. Her Sy-on boy always found it so difficult to open himself up to her, but when he did, it filled her with gratitude. If even this tight-lipped boy shared some of himself with her, then that meant that he thought she was worth sharing it with.

"I just thought that, if the situation was difficult for you… I would…" He said it in a very small voice, and wiped his palms on the fabric of his trousers. Once. Twice, before he settled on pressing his hands against his knees. "I've heard that kids are really expensive, and you know if your place was too small for all of you, then I would have-"

Anya couldn't help but see the image that floated out to her from his mind. A child with pink hair and green eyes, smiling in a house that looked far too decadent to be the Forger's. Anya wondered if that was Damian's own house, but it was too quick for her to get the full picture of it. Either way, even though she saw it for only a brief moment, it took her breath away completely.

His aggravated voice pulled her out of Damian's imagined vision. "But- whatever! It's not real anyway!" And Damian leaned forward wearily, holding his face in his hands, too exhausted to face her.

Anya didn't know what to do with herself. She felt an overwhelming urge to reach out, to drape her arms across his shoulders (broader than she had ever noticed), hold him close, and try to show her gratitude with just that simple touch. But, knowing how he felt about her, she held herself back, and a warmth sparked inside her chest. She looked down at her hands in her lap, suddenly realising that since the beginning of the school year, she had been taking for granted the fact that he would let her touch him freely. All the times she had held his hand, or even his elbow, in the cinema, walking to class, whenever she wanted to, or needed the comfort, he would let her.

She couldn't do that anymore. It wouldn't be fair on him.

"Thanks Sy-on," she whispered with a tentative smile, and folded her hands in her lap. "It's good to know that I can rely on you if I need it."

"It's not a big deal," he muttered into his hands.

Anya didn't miss his reddened ears, and she tried to hide her own blush, knowing that he was so embarrassed at wanting to help her. He could be really cute sometimes.

The thought of sitting so close to Damian for the rest of the trip home made her sweat. If only she didn't know about his feelings for her, it would make things so much easier. It could be like how it was before, where they occasionally bickered, and supported each other as friends, and it was easy and not complicated at all. It had only been less than twenty-four hours since his confession, and even though he had said that she didn't have to answer him straight away, Anya had no clue what her reply would be at all. Everything had become so complicated so fast, she had barely had time to think about it, and suddenly he was next to her and her brain had stopped working.

Maybe if she could pretend things were normal, it would buy her time. Maybe they could try to get used to each other like this, like they were before, until she could think of how to reply to him.

"Maybe Sy-on isnt so bad after all," she joked, and flashed him a gentle smile.

"Hey now," he exhaled through his nose in a tired laugh. "I thought we were past that, dummy."

To her relief, it looked like some of the tension released from Damian's body, and he leaned back with a restorative sigh. Hope lifted her, and she wondered if she kept going like this, maybe it would help them both to relax into the long trip ahead of them.

"We are!" she grinned, now starting to relax. "We're friends now!"

It was the wrong thing to say.

What hope they had left to act normal with each other completely shattered. Damian's own smile faltered, and his gaze slipped away from her. "Yeah… friends."

A chill came over her, as when the sun's warmth disappeared under the clouds. Anya worked her jaw, but nothing came out, and it dawned on her that she had just said the worst thing possible. In a matter of seconds, she had effectively toppled what little progress she made in trying to make them both feel normal.

Friends? She may have been oblivious, but even Anya understood why that simple word could hurt him.

Why did she have to be so stupid?

It was hours later before either Damian or Anya would be granted any sort of relief. Since Anya's disastrous attempt to lighten the tension - and then just making it entirely worse - neither had spoken a word to each other.

The awkwardness was a heavy cloud that suffocated everyone in its' radius, especially those closest to Eden's most-awaited couple. Becky did her best to focus on sitting with Bill, to enjoy his company, but even she could feel the tension brewing in front of her. Meanwhile, Emile and Ewen dared not speak, in case they accidentally invited Damian's famous jealousy, or worse, his wrath.

For all those hours, the tension suffocated them, and all four students thoroughly regretted enacting Becky's plan to seat them together, as they wondered if they would ever breathe easy again.

When they arrived back at Eden College, just before dinner time, Damian never felt more relieved. He stood up from his seat first, and beelined for the exit without so much as a backward glance toward a certain pink-haired girl.

Anya watched Damian leave the bus first, and she sagged with an unspoken relief, before being flooded once again with guilt. It was her fault that everything was so awkward in the first place. If she hadn't thoughtlessly blurted that they were "friends", if she hadn't figured out his feelings, if she hadn't confronted him about it and basically forced him to confess, then she could continue living guilt-free. Stupid brain. Stupid curiosity.

She grabbed her bag from underneath her seat, and made her own way off the bus, walking slowly behind the last trickle of students from Wald and Cecile halls.

No sooner than when Anya stepped off the platform of the bus steps was she engulfed in a hug that crushed her ribs and squeezed the breath out of her.

"Welcome back, darling!" Yor exclaimed and squeezed her tightly. "Did you have a nice time? Was it fun? Loid and I can't wait to hear all about it!"

Anya extricated herself from her mothers loving assault, and scowled at her in exasperation. "Mama. I know Papa was following me."

Yor's smile froze on her face, caught in the act. "Ah, whoops, really?" But then her gaze landed on someone nearby, someone who stood awkwardly with his bag in his hand, clearly not knowing where to look.

Yor's face split into a huge grin as soon as she saw him and she instantly waved him over. "Oh, Damian! So good to see you!" (Of course, from Yor's perspective, she and Damian had a good rapport going, but how was she supposed to know that Damian wanted to be anywhere else at that moment in time?)

Damian started, and then looked a bit sheepish as he received questioning stares from people around him, clearly curious about his relationship with Anya's family. "H-hello, Mrs Forger."

Unable to eavesdrop without looking suspicious, the other students around them dissipated reluctantly, giving backwards glances to Yor, Damian, and Anya.

Anya heard some of their thoughts in passing.

That's Anya's mother? Looks nothing like her!

Damian seems really close to the Forger's somehow…

Is he in with the family after all?

Anya sighed, and gave her mum a winning smile. "Thanks for coming to pick me up! Can we head home soon? I'm really hungry."

"Oh, yes, your father's already cooking," Yor flicked her gaze to Damian, and her eyes lit up once more. "Why don't you come and join us?"

Damian froze, and looked around on both sides before pointing to himself. "Me?" As if there was anyone else that Yor would ask instead of him.

"Of course!" she beamed. "Loid's having a lovely dinner prepared, and you can think of it as our way of paying you back for everything you've done for our Anya!"

Anya shrunk into herself, the awkwardness from the bus coming back to her in full force. "Mama, shh!"

"Uh-" said Damian, clearly thinking the same thing as Anya, but he reeled back when Yor earnestly grabbed his hand in hers. There was nowhere to look but in those overenthusiastic ruby-red eyes.

"You must come! I insist!"

"Erm-" Damian struggled to look her in the eyes. "I actually have… er… homework to do…"

Yor whipped her head round to Profesor Henderson, who had been lingering nearby, no doubt making sure that every student was accounted for, and that they were all heading to their designated guardians.

"Professor Henderson!" she called out to him enthusiastically, and she didn't notice that he started at her voice, too. In fact, as soon as he saw who had called him, his face fell just a fraction, before he elegantly composed himself.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Forger," said Professor Henderson, with the utmost caution, as one would approach a wild bear.

Yor was oblivious to his concerns, having apparently forgotten her threats on his life about a month before. "I'm taking Damian to our home for dinner, is that alright?"

Once he had assessed that Yor Forger was no longer a threat, Professor Henderson regarded the three with an amused eye, noting Damian and Anya's especially red faces. "I see no problem with that."

Damian's face fell. "But-"

"Perfect!" Yor beamed, oblivious. "I'll carry your things, now you just get in the car on this side Damian, the other side has a sticky handle…"

Damian gulped, and wondered how he had so completely lost control of the situation, again. With trepidation and fear he watched the scenery of Eden College roll away behind him as he sat in the back seat of the Forger's car. Effectively trapping him in painfully close proximity with the girl he loved, and her mother, which was not how he wanted to spend the evening.

He had thought things couldn't get any more embarrassing than they already were - but he was wrong. He couldn't help but be super aware of Anya's presence in front of him, and sweat prickled across his back and neck. He sat up straighter than normal, desperately trying to keep his guard up.

Without knowing what else to expect, Damian prayed for a quiet dinner and a quick retreat back to the dorms at Cecile Hall. Maybe he would be able to fumble an excuse. Maybe he could call in sick.

Damian chided himself. He couldn't just call in sick. This was dinner at a friend's house. He had no other choice but to put up with Anya and her family for the span of a meal before he could retreat to the sanctuary of his dorm room, and finally give himself time to process everything from the last two days.

Anya could barely concentrate on the ride home. She clenched her hands into tight fists, unintentionally scrunching the material of her uniform, and Anya dared to look up, but she accidentally caught Damian's eye in the rearview mirror, both teens blushed and looked away. She couldn't hear a sound over the noise of the blood rushing in her ears.

In almost no time at all, Yor had pulled into the designated parking space outside the Forger residence, and Anya braced herself for what could be the most awkward evening of her life.

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*evil laughter*