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Berlint was quiet tonight, still in the pale moonlight. The shadows it cast were highlighted by the bright streetlights, alley cats skittering around in their wake as they chased the occasional moth. Barely anyone was out at this hour, only a few cars driving down the narrow streets and some local drunkards leaving the pub, steam wisping in front of them as they chatted, shivering in the cold.
Comfortably tucked up in her bed, Anya wasn’t one of those people, instead mindlessly scrolling through Tiktok on her phone. In the dark of her room, it’s dim light accented her tired eyes, as she stared blankly at what was meant to be a funny animal video, that absently got replaced a few seconds in. Her thumb was slightly cramped from the constant swiping, nothing capturing her undivided attention for more than moments before she finally got bored enough to switch to another social media. Opening Twitter had the same effect, as she scrolled past endless tweets, each more staggering painful than the last.
Huffing she pressed the power button, lulling the device into sleep, wishing she could do the same with her brain. It was buzzing with random thoughts, none that could be strung together that required proper comprehension, all with the constant loop of Armani White’s Billie Eilish playing over them. She hummed it now, fingers tapping against her sheets as she listened to her parents’ gentle snores from down the hallway. Yor had crept in some hours ago, safe from another one of her assignments, and Anya had plugged in a headphone as soon as she heard the creak of bedsprings. Her parents were like rabbits lately, and while their actions the next day amused her, she wished her insomnia allowed her respite from their moans.
Picking up her phone again out of habit, she rolled onto her back and tucked her chin against her chest, sighing as she reopened Twitter. There was a few fanarts of a popular series she liked that she double tapped, before scrolling down to see the nonsense her friends had tweeted. Damian had posted something a little depressing a couple of hours ago, and she frowned at it.
He had been off lately. Oddly quiet at school even though he was usually reserved. Only giving fake smiles when Emile and Ewen said something to make him laugh. She had nudged him during science today when she noticed he was zoned out, and he had just given her a small smile of reassurance in response to her whispered query. It had filled her with a sense of discomfort at the time, and as she considered it again now, she felt worry flow through her. Vowing to talk to him about it the next day, she went to her page and double checked her followers.
Typing out a half assed tweet about being unable to sleep, Anya posted it with a yawn before flicking over to Tumblr. The Bondman fancomic she had been reading hadn’t been updated, so Tumblr turned into Instagram where she left spicy comments on Becky’s pictures in boredom. She was half way through typing a bunch of emojis when she got a notification, and she paused to read it curiously.
Damian had liked her tweet.
Why was he still up? It was like...two in the morning.
Finishing her comment, Anya opened up her messenger to text him, but he bet her to it, a new message waiting for her when she clicked on his contact.
Why can’t you sleep?
I should ask the same as you. You okay?
The bubbles popped along for a moment, before disappearing. A few seconds later a simple shrug emoji appeared.
Dunno.
Frowning Anya hastily typed out a reply, suddenly not liking the idea of him alone in his room at the academy.
Do you want to talk about it?
He didn’t reply for a while and she considered face timing him. Her thumb hovered over the call button hesitantly, but a new message popped up and she scrolled to read it instead.
Family.
Oh. That explained a lot. His father had always been a douche, but lately he had been really piling it on Damian’s shoulders as they edged closer to their final school years. Constant beratement over his lack of social standing, how he didn’t measure up to his infamous brother, how he would never be worthy more than second rate substitute to the family business and not to get his hopes up for anything to be handed to him. Anya had fumed when she had found out, wanting to storm over to Donovan’s office and punch a motherfucker out, but Damian had held her back saying that Donovan wasn’t worth her wrath. Though he didn’t comment when his father’s political posters around town suddenly featured on social media, replaced with images that Donovan had thought to be dead and buried, of his misdeeds during the war. It had led to a major dive in his ratings, and the smile Damian had secretly given her was award enough.
She had slipped Ewen and Emile some of her father’s baking and porn as thanks, the three vowing to never mention the posters around Damian as they deleted the file off Emile’s computer.
What did he do now?
It’s what he didn’t do. He promised he wouldn’t be at the mixer the other night, but guess who was there, making it all about him while I was pushed to the side. As usual.
That's it, I'm facetiming
She angrily jabbed at the videocall button, waiting impatiently for his face to appear. It wasn’t long before it did, groggy and slightly annoyed, bed hair in all directions.
“Can I kill him? Please tell me I can kill him this time. I’ll be discrete.”
“Anya, it’s late. You should be asleep.”
“Not discrete? Cool, I’m sure I can make it front page for the morning paper. I know a lot of powerful people. They'd be willing to help.”
Damian chortled despite himself, an amused quirk in his top lip.
“Emile and Ewen would never dirty their hands like that. And I don’t know what Blackbell has filled your head with, but she’s never even fired a gun.”
“Who said anything about those three? I have a life outside of Eden.” She grinned, rolling over to flick on her lamp so she could see him better. He had trekked into a sliver of moonlight, it’s gentle beams caressing the shadows under his eyes and the hollowness in his cheeks. It made her want to smother him in all the blankets in her house, while she force fed him her mother’s stew, and dog pile him with the familial affection he so rightly deserved. She traced the bags with a finger now, wishing he wasn’t so far away.
“Are you okay?”
“No. But I’ll get over it.” He sighed heavily. “Can we just talk? I’ll shout breakfast.”
“I’ll bring the energy drinks.” She confirmed, settling back against her pillows in preparation.
Never of them were really sure how it all started, this late night talking. They had texted regularly, as often as close friends should, with funny memes sent back and forth, and in-depth character analyses spanning paragraphs when they got into a mood. Their conversations were littered with insults at each other and barbed banter, aiming to hurt and ridicule at every moment. But beneath lay something tender and sweet, something so uniquely them that no one even dared to poke a stick at.
Texts during the day became rare and in-between, but after the clock struck ten, they became novels. Fast flying, mistyped, missing full sentences at best but still maintaining a constant flow, they had shared everything with one another. Dreams and inspirations, theories about their friends and classmates, if there were aliens out in the universe and what had they seen about the human race that kept them away for so long?
Comfort when most needed.
So, when Anya had been crying after a panic attack, she hadn’t thought twice about calling him. She had curled around her pillow, tears still fresh on her cheeks as she listened to the phone ring, until he picked it up with a nervous hello. Upon hearing her choked sobs, his face had immediately filled her screen, demanding to know who had hurt her and if he should come on over. She had chuckled, and tried to talk him out of it, but he was at her house within the hour, Emile’s stolen bike chucked up against the apartment wall as he comforted her.
Anya would swear on her mother’s grave that Becky was her best friend if anyone asked. But her fingers would be crossed behind her back, as Damian took that ranking without consideration. Just, don’t tell Becky that.
Phone calls became regular things, with her often running out of data during their debates or the long silences just listening to the other breath. It frustrated him enough that he brought her an all-expenses paid plan for the year, claiming it was only for emergencies when her parents were out of town for work and she needed to contact them. Anya had just smiled, hugging him tightly in thanks while he squirmed in her grip, bright red and in denial.
Their conversations could be long winded, what they couldn’t say in text translating into word vomit over the line. More than once they had hung up an hour before dawn, only to come to school tired and grumpy at each other. It was after they had crashed together in the library, and had slept through their friends scribbling on their faces and taking numerous blackmail photos that they had agreed that if they had their late-night talks, Anya would buy energy drinks on the way to school and he’d snag something greasy and unholy unhealthy for breakfast to prevent another occurrence. Secretly she had saved one of those pictures, Becky flashing a cheeky grin as she took the selfie, with him nestled against Anya’s shoulder as she held him close in the background. There was drool dribbling down her chin and they had pen all over their faces, but he looked so relaxed in it that she couldn’t help but to treasure it.
Watching him now, Anya wished she could drive or had a bike of her own, as he looked like he desperately needed a hug. Slouching against the window sill, he placed his phone against the window pane and settled his chin on his folded arms, sighing heavily.
“Do you think Pops would adopt me too?”
“In a heartbeat. I’m sure I’ve seen him looking at papers for you all at least once over the years. Yours is like his night time reading.”
Damian smiled at the thought and relaxed even further. He looked cold in his plaid pyjamas, and she told him to put on a blanket, heart pleased when he showed her the knitted quilt she had made for him last Christmas. They slowly began chatting about anything they could think of, eventually settling into a lengthy discussion about Ewen’s mysterious Tinder crush.
“Five hundred it’s Blackbell.”
“I don’t have that kind of money, but I like those odds. She’s been weirdly shifty around him lately. When they get together, we should form a singles alliance group with Emile. He was complaining about his love life the other day.”
“Mmm, wouldn’t work, it’d just be us two in the group.”
“What, really?”
“Yeah, he hooked up with some guy the other day and is convinced he’s in love.”
“Did he not learn-”
“Yes. That’s why he’s also banging that chick in his volunteer group. Ewen is distraught over how much action Emile is getting.”
Anya laughed loudly before clapping a hand over her mouth, listening to make sure her parents hadn’t stirred. Damian smiled at her sleepily, looking far calmer now that he had earlier. A glance at the time showed that three hours had gone by already, though Anya was sure they had just started talking.
“Hey, go to bed. You’ll get a cramp in your neck if you end up sleeping there.” She murmured softly, and he gave a hum of acknowledgement but his eyes were already closed. Was it creepy to watch your best friend sleep? Anya wasn’t sure, but it didn’t stop her from watching over him now. He put on an air of being unbothered and above everyone’s commentary about his family, but at times like this she could tell it was eating him up. Murmuring an affectionate good night to the sleeping teen, Anya ended the call and set her phone aside, wriggling down under her sheets to try and get some sleep herself.
If she turned up at school the next morning, carrying a steaming coffee as well as bag full of energy drinks and Damian’s favourite toffees, will, that was just pure luck that they were on sale that day.
_______________________________________________________________________________
About a week later, she was struggling with her maths homework, hands tightly gripping at her scalp as she stared holes into the written equation, only to jump in surprise when the tapping started. Blinking away the numbers, Anya turned towards her window, unsure that she had heard it correctly. Another tink against the glass had her getting to her feet, unlocking her balcony doors.
Stepping outside into the cool air, she drew her arms tightly over her chest and peered around, spotting Damian on the footpath below, a word of warning on his lips. It came too late, the pebbles he had been throwing hitting her in the forehead.
“What the hell man?” She hissed, rubbing at the sore spot as he dropped the rest of his ammo with a guilty smile. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m bored. Come entertain me.”
Anya leaned against the railings with a sigh, annoyed amusement flooding through her.
“You’re one of the richest people I know. Surely you can go buy someone else to entertain you. Facetime one of those random celebrities on your phone. I’m sure the model you were flirting with would be interested.”
“Meh, she’s more into my brother. Let him deal with her delightful jokes.”
Oh, so he was hurting right now.
“Why didn’t you just call me?”
Damian shrugged, kicking at the ground thoughtfully. “Dunno, dorms felt too stuffy. Emile is out on a date, and Ewen holed himself up in his room hours ago. So, I went for a ride.”
She noticed the stolen bike just then, leaning against the lamp post behind him.
“You went bike riding at midnight on a Friday and ended up here?” She asked incredulously, and she wasn’t too far away to see the tinge of pink that snaked across his cheeks. He’d blame it on the cold if she pointed it out. “Hold up, give me a minute to put on some shoes.”
Anya raced back inside before he could respond, poking her head out her door to check on her parents. They were curled up together on the couch, watching some documentary lazily. Loid’s hand was twirling a strand of Yor’s hair, head rested against hers as she leaned heavily against his chest.
“I’m going to bed now, I’ll talk to you in the morning.” Anya called out softly, and Loid gave her a non-comital hum in response, Yor’s soft snores in his ear. Closing the door and making sure it was locked (a useless barrier in this household, but a respected one), Anya wriggled on some sneakers and her oversized coat before hurrying back out onto her balcony. Once she had shut those doors and ensured she wasn’t locked out, she wriggled her way over the railing and jumped down. Damian lurched forward to catch her, hissing in annoyance at the heart attack she gave him, but his help wasn’t needed as she landed safely.
Grinning up at him she just gave him a friendly punch on the arm, and set off down the road, no true destination in mind. Damian caught up a few moments later, lazily riding alongside her.
Mindless small talk filled the space between them, the slow tick of the bike tyres against the pavement resounding in the air. Damian rode circles around her as they chatted, teasing her by nudging at her ankles with the wheels, and ducking out of reach when she lunged at him. At one point she succeeded in shoving him off, but she only managed to cycle a few metres forward before she began wobbling and he raced over to hold the back of the seat. He ended up teaching her how to ride a bike properly all the way to the park and they were both flushed with joy when they finally got there.
Settling on one of the damp park benches, Anya burrowed into her jacket as Damian sat beside her, bike left in the frosty grass. He opened an arm towards her when he spotted her shivering, and Anya snuggled into his side instantly. Winter was still a few weeks away, but the ice in the air was already thick, practically freezing every puff of air they released. Anya held out a chilled hand thoughtfully, looking up at the clear skies.
“You think it’ll snow soon?”
“More than likely. Mother said the lodge was snowed in the other day, so I expect the storm will hit us shortly.” Damian sighed, grabbing her hand and gently tucking it into his armpit to warm it up.
“You’re talking to your mum again?”
“Not really. We had tea together yesterday afternoon. It was as awkward as you could imagine.”
“Sorry to hear.”
“It’s okay. At least she’s trying.”
They were silent, listening to a homeless man sing at the top of his lungs from somewhere behind them, silently judging his pitch. Anya was considering if a seven was generous when Damian leaned against her head and muttered, “She wants to meet you.”
Startled she tilted her head to look up at him, not caring about how close they were.
“Me? Why?”
“Something about being Yor’s stepdaughter and how ‘beautiful’ you’ve become since she last saw pictures of you.” He shrugged and she just continued to blink at him in surprise. “She was extremely disappointed when I said we weren’t dating, that you’ve got that nerd you’re flirting with all last year lined up in your sights.”
“Ah yes, Rowan .” Anya purred, pretty blue eyes coming to mind. “He invited me out on a date actually.”
“Really? When?” Damian asked in surprise, and she shrugged casually.
“Dunno when yet. Happened just this afternoon. I’m hoping he takes me to the new Spy movie.”
“You could just save your money and stream it from his dorm. You know, Netflix and Chill.”
“I want to be wined and dined like a proper lady thank you very much. I want to see if his table manners are up to standard before he gets to eat ‘the main course’. You know no boy has passed that test yet.”
“Ew, I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”
“What sex? It’s severely lacking all my life. Though Becky has jokingly offered to fix that problem once or twice during one of her sleepovers.”
“Don’t let Ewen hear that, he’ll ask if he can get it on tape.”
“I have been trying to figure out what to get him for Christmas-” She shrieked as Damian dug his fingers into her sides with rough tickles. “I kid, I kid! Mercy!”
Laughing she leaned away from him, though he didn’t let up, chasing her until she fell off the bench. He lay on the seat, chin propped up in his hands as he stared down at her, triumphant in his smirk. Anya glared back up at him from the cold ground, but didn’t bother to move.
“You’re a dick.”
“Yet you love me anyway.”
Anya rolled her eyes, ignoring the tiniest flutter in her stomach, shuffling to get comfortable. She paused though, as something hard in her pocket was pocking at her side. Sitting up she shoved a hand into her coat, cold fingers closing around equally cold metal when she did.
“Ohh, I forgot about this!” She said joyfully, holding out the flask for him to see. He took it from her curiously, making room for her again on the bench as he unscrewed the cap. With a sniff his wrinkled his nose, holding it away from his face.
“That smells strong.”
“It better be. I stole some of Uncle Franky’s whiskey last month when we went around for dinner. I haven’t had a chance to try it yet. Wanna take the first sip?”
Truthfully she had taken it when Damian had earned his Imperial Scholar cape, but there hadn’t been an opportunity at school for her to share a drink with him. She knew it was a tradition his family had started, sharing a drink of whiskey after an achievement, but he had been yet to be included in the tradition. The flask had been travelling around with her for close to a year now, and she’d be damned if he ever found out.
Damian raised the flask to his lips cautiously, before taking a gentle swig that left him choking. Heaving he held the container back to her, eyes watering as the back of his throat burned.
“Fucken hell that’s strong!” He wheezed, and she took a sip as well to try. She joined him in spluttering, tears streaming down her face as she buried her head against his chest.
“It burns so bad!”
“Are you sure you’re not trying to complete Pop’s old mission by killing me? Cause that was bloody poison.”
“You’re mixing up the assignments, that was Mama’s. And no, if I wanted to kill you, I’d given you some of her cookies.”
He laughed into her hair, low and a bit pained, but he took another swig of the whiskey anyway. Together they passed the flask back and forth, pulling faces and retching at the taste until they could no longer feel their tongues. Anya sat sprawled across the bench, Damian’s head in her lap as they stared up at the faint stars above them, the empty flask trapped between his fingers.
“The Milkyway sure is bright tonight.” She murmured, hand threading through his hair slowly. “Looks like it’s dancing.”
“I can dance like that.” Damian said confidently and she paused to look down at him in surprise.
“You can?”
“Yeah! I had lessons as a child. Remember those afternoons Jeeves pulled me out of class and I refused to tell you all where I was going?” He said, excitement in his tone now as he struggled to push himself up. “It was to ballroom dance classes. Hated the lessons with a passion, but I actually enjoyed the dancing. Here, I’ll show you.”
He was pulling her to her feet before she could protest, sweeping her into his arms loosely. They were both too drunk to stand up straight though, feet tripping together as he slowly walked them through some long-forgotten steps, humming a random tune under his breath. Anya let herself be guided through the motions, grinning stupidly as he twirled her. The waltz he had been trying to recreate turned into random swaying, hands laced together as they spun each other out or under arms, an uncoordinated dip being their downfall as she slipped in the frost, pulling him down with her into the grass.
Laughing they lay there together, Anya rolling on top of him when she got cold, curling herself up in his cloak. He was warm and soft beneath her, and she felt like a cat curled up in its favourite spot.
“You’re heavy. I can’t breathe.” He grunted, pushing at her weakly.
“Make me.”
“I’m going to hurl if your elbow keeps jabbing me in the stomach.”
Okay, that was fair enough. Huffing she rolled off him and into his side, resting her forehead against his shoulder. The sky was starting to lighten, dawn approaching soon, but neither of them really felt like moving.
“We’re going to be so hungover when we wake up.” He whispered, hand curling against her waist. She could already feel the hint of a headache between her eyes, and she grumbled her acknowledgement.
“Let’s get something from somewhere before I take you home.”
“A bagel. Steaming hot, with bacon and egg.” Anya murmured, feeling him nod against her head.
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
Neither of them moved though for a little while, stomachs both churning from their impromptu dance, before Damian finally got to his feet. Anya climbed onto the handlebars of the bike, leaning back against his shoulder as they rode out of the park, looking for the nearest dinner that was open this early. Toasted bagels in hand, they bickered all the way back to her place, Damian’s cycling causing them to waver all over the footpath. He threatened to dump her on the sidewalk a few times when she complained about the swerving, and she just slammed the last of her bagel in her mouth.
Standing beneath her balcony now though, they swayed together as he tried to boast her high enough to reach the edge.
“A little higher.”
“Anya, if you lift you any higher, I’m going to tip backwards. If I do, I’ll need to readjust my grip.”
“You can put your hands on my butt, I don’t care!”
“I was talking about around your knees!”
Her hand snagged onto the balcony edge and she wriggled in his arms to pull herself up. She was sure she clocked him in the chest with one of her sneakers, whispering an apology as made it safely over the railing and back onto her domain. He glared up at her, rubbing at his sternum but she just beamed back down at him.
“I hope you’re feeling better now!” She called, and he paused in picking up the bike again.
“How’d you know...”
“It’s you Sy-on. I can always tell.”
The look he sent her warmed her more than the whiskey and she leaned against the railing blissfully.
“You’re truly my best friend Anya.”
“And you’re mine. Now get going before the Dorm Mother realises you’re missing.”
He laughed and straddled the bike, turning to leave, though he hesitated as he thought of something.
“You’ll tell me when you go on your date right? And if he doesn’t treat you right?”
“Of course. I’ll have you on speed dial.”
“Okay, good. Night Anya.”
She waved him off, waiting until he was out of sight before slipping into her room. Feeling thirsty she went towards the kitchen, only to hear her father’s annoyed, “Where have you been?”
Her shriek woke up a few of the neighbours.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Leaning against the cold wall, Anya held back her sobs as she hastily typed at her phone. The evening traffic was a dull hum around her, a few cat calls thrown in her direction from some men sitting nearby, as she shivered in the breeze. Selecting the right contact, she held the phone up to her ear, wiping at her running nose.
“Anya! How’d it go? I didn’t think I’d hear from you tonight after-”
“Damian.”
He cut himself off at her sob and there was a moment of silence before she heard his chair push back against floor violently.
“Where are you.”
“Outside the park. I’m cold. I left my jacket behind.”
“I’m on my way. Do you want me to stay on the line?”
“Please.”
“Okay Peanut. I’ll be there soon, promise.”
She cradled the phone against her neck, wrapping her arms around herself to try and get warm. Damian’s low words of comfort washed over her as she cried silently, and she closed her eyes to focus on them instead of the heart break she was feeling. Her legs were trembling, and she rubbed them together to try and create some heat through her tights, the cold air nipping under her skirt. Goosebumps trailed all over her collarbone, and she regretted wearing something this low cut in the middle of winter.
Damian whispered he wasn’t too far away and she looked up and down the street for him sadly. Soon a dark grey, bordering on black mustang turned around the corner, and she pulled herself away from the wall she was leaning on. He parked unevenly on the yellow lines, and hurried over to her a moment later, jacket in hand.
“Are you okay? What did he do?” He demands, gently easing her into the coat sleeves and tucking her against his side. She just shook her head, burying her face against his shoulder as more tears streamed down her cold cheeks. Damian sighed heavily and wrapped her in his arms, rubbing her back soothingly. Neither had hung up their phones yet, and she knew her minutes would be dwindling out. They stood like that for a long while, Anya’s tears making the wool of his sweater wet and prickly against her face. He nuzzled at her hairline, hands still soothing her back, before murmuring against her forehead,
“Come on, I’m going to get a ticket if I stay parked here.”
She let him led her over to the passenger side, snarling over her head at the assholes who were still cat calling across the street, sliding into the leather interior with a sniffle. Damian made sure she was buckled in safely before rounding the bonnet, climbing into the driver’s seat, and double checking she was okay before pulling back onto the road.
Anya didn’t say anything for a while, just fiddled with the heater settings and the edge of his jacket. It was huge on her, swamping her petite frame but she took comfort in its warmth and his usual cologne. Damian just drove around the back streets in silence, the radio playing softly in the background. She had kind of expected him to turn up on Emile’s bike again, just like old times. But the car was warm and his, peeling leather and all. He had gotten it recently in a fit of revenge against his father, ignoring the brightly painted and finely detailed cars that were expected of him, choosing this neglected second-hand beast instead. None of them had dared comment on the self-reflection he was showing, as he had proudly pulled into the school parking lot a couple of days ago, blabbering about the deal he had gotten when purchasing it.
“He didn’t...do anything to you, did he?” Damian eventually asked, knuckles white against the steering wheel. “Nothing I need to chop off?”
“No.” Anya said with a watery smile. “No hands or dicks need to be chopped off.”
“Are you sure? Cause I can call Becky and she’ll meet me and boys-”
“No, it’s okay, really. He’s not worth it.”
Damian sent her a look that said he didn’t believe her, but didn’t push her any further. She stared moodily out the car window, glad that its tinted glass hid her tears. Rowan had been so sweet. Why did she never have any luck with dating?
“Do your folks know where you are at least?”
“Told them I was with you. They said to use the front door this time when I got home.”
Damian chuckled, remembering her retelling of the lecture Loid had given her after their drunken escapades. She had been miserable, all her peanut privileges banned for a week, and her flask confiscated. It was back in her room now, buried under her clothes, but no one would admit to it.
“How’d your meeting with your folks go?”
“Oh no, we’re not talking about my drama right now, we’re focusing on you.” Damian tsked, pulling into a random drive through. “Have you eaten?”
She shook her head, and his gaze grew colder. Getting to the window he ordered some kind of greasy burger, along with chicken tenders and fries for her. He drummed his fingers against the wheel while they waited, Anya slowly sipping at the drink in her hand.
“He stood me up.”
The drumming stopped.
“We were meant to meet at the restaurant at six, and he told me to dress nice. This was our third date, so I was really excited. Mama helped me with my makeup and hair, and Becky chose my dress. I felt really pretty, and was excited for him to see me. I had decided that he could...” She shrugged, blushing a little as Damian kept his eyes firmly on the car ahead. “Kissing had been fun, so I figured it would be the next step. But when I got there, no one came.”
She sighed and slouched further into her seat, coat bunching up around her ears.
“I sat there for over an hour, feeling incredibly hopeful. Maybe I had gotten the time wrong. Maybe he was running late. I’m going to have to pee soon cause I drank so many glasses of water while waiting. I constantly checked my phone, our previous messages, and confirmed that I was right. So, when seven thirty hit, I gave up and apologised to the wait staff for wasting their time. They were really sympathetic, and I’d like to go back there some day to thank them. But as I was leaving to get my jacket, I heard a thought.”
“No.” Damian hissed, already looking furious. Anya hid even further behind the wide collar.
“He was with some other girl. Tucked into the corner of the restaurant. They had been there a while, plates shared between them. He didn’t see me, and I could tell from his thoughts that he never had any intention of meeting me there, and that this was his girlfriend all along.”
“Thanks for waiting, here’s your order!” The server at the window shoved a paper bag into Damian’s face, just as he looked like he was going to snap. He managed to give them a polite smile and took their food, handing it over to Anya gently. The scowl returned with a vengeance though as they drove off, and Anya nibbled at fry sadly.
“I’m calling Blackbell. She’s trained with your Ma right? She knows where to hide a body. Ewen and Emile will be our alibi, they’ll feed you that hot chocolate you like and Emile’s special cookies, while I hunt down the bastard-”
“Damian! It’s okay. He’s not worth it.” Anya sobbed, touched by his over protectiveness. His thoughts were angrily plotting all the ways him and the other three would ruin Rowan, some even involving Loid and Yor, but he tried to shut them off as he took a deep breath.
“I’m still going to punch him.”
“If you must.”
“I might strangle him.”
“Please don’t.”
“Or stab him.”
“I won’t protect you if you do.”
He sighed and held out a hand dejectedly, and she placed a chicken tender in it.
“As long as you’re not hurt Anya. I don’t think I can live with the idea of you being hurt.”
“I’m okay. Just a little heart broken and extremely disappointed.” She smiled as he angrily munched on the tender. “I shaved everywhere for tonight. And used my good lotion. What a wasted effort.”
Damian laughed despite himself and her smile widened a fraction. “He’ll regret it someday Peanut. You do look stunning.”
Her cheeks warmed considerably at his words, that fluttering becoming bigger in her stomach.
“Thanks Damian.”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes.
“Any time. I’m just surprised you cleaned up so nicely when you’re usually in sweat-stained loungewear or that old Bondman t-shirt you won’t let Becky burn.”
Anya whacked him on the arm, angrily defending her choice of clothes as he chortled mischievously, leaning away from her failing. She ended up chucking chips at his face as he drove, some he managed to catch in time with his mouth. It became a game, a fun one that left salt all over the steering wheel and his hair, grease marks on the windows, but Anya’s spirits were lifted enough, even when she shook out the last fry.
“So, how did that meeting go?” She tried again, feeding him the last chip delicately. Damian leaned down to accept her offering, eyes still on the traffic lights ahead.
“The same. Disappointing. Father yelled, I yelled back. Mother and Demitrius said nothing, though their eyes said everything. He tried to ban me from my trust fund, but I had Jeeves change the restrictions on that years ago. Father never noticed as he just signed whatever went under his nose at the time.”
Anya remembered that, he had been particularly smug when it had happened, his ego at new heights for weeks. They had gotten into a nasty fight during that time period and she had suggested he dive off it, as no one wanted him around. Not one of her finer moments, especially with how hurt he had been, and it had taken weeks before they were even on speaking terms again. Ewen called it the ‘Fall of Damianya’, and their whole class had recognised it as a loss.
“So what are you going to do?”
“Dunno. Continue school for now, live in the dorms. Ewen and Emile have both offered rooms at their place during the summer so I don’t have to go home, but I’m considering going to see my grandparents. I haven’t seen them since I was a child.”
“You can always stay with us if you want as well.” Anya murmured, picking at her straw thoughtfully. “Uncle Yuri doesn’t barge in as often anymore, and the spare room is always available.”
Damian sent her a gentle look, smile on his lips.
“Thanks Peanut.”
“Any time.”
He dropped her at the apartment a few hours later, after making sure she was truly calm and happier than before. She had waved him off, after making sure he wouldn’t hunt down Rowan, before walking inside and straight into her mother’s arms, fresh tears springing into her eyes. Despite Damian’s best efforts, she was still a little heartbroken, and it was a wound that only a mother’s love could seem to heal.
Though, she would admit seeing the black eye Rowan tried so desperately to hide a few days later did help, and she had smiled her thanks at Damian who was keeping his bruised knuckles stubbornly hidden behind his cape.
____________________________________________________________________________________
His car smelled like cinnamon and Anya took a deep inhale of it in delight. Settling against the cracked leather comfortably, she ate one of the still warm doughnuts from the pile, uncaring if she got sugar everywhere. Damian eyed falling speckles warily, knowing he’d have to vacuum out his car, again.
“Do you have no manners?” He asked in amusement, as she stuffed her cheeks with the dough.
“Yesh?”
“Then you’ll step outside and shake off all those crumbs before I take you anywhere else.”
“In the snow? It’s freezing out there Sy-on!” She gasped, dropping her hand back to her side from where it had been stretching for another treat.
“Don’t care. Go dance monkey.”
Anya grumbled, shoving her sock covered feet into her slides and opening the car door grumpily. The wind bit at her exposed skin, and she quickly shimmed to get all the sugar off her, batting at her t-shirt as well. Damian just watched her, messily eating his own doughnut and sipping at his coffee, pushing her back out with his leg when she tried to climb back in, saying she had missed a spot. Anya growled and pushed it aside, pinching at the tender flesh under his knee as she did.
“Ow! Bitch.” He whined, bring a hand down to rub at his injury as she slammed the door shut behind her.
“Serves you right. Now pass the coffee or I’ll shove my cold hands up your top.”
Wordlessly he complied, though his frown spoken volumes and she accepted the steaming cup thankfully. The winter weather had truly hit in the last few weeks, snow building up all around the city in time for Christmas. She had spent the day with her parents and Uncles, play fighting in the fresh snow and playing some serious rounds of Exploding Kittens. Damian had been back at with his family at their holiday home, bombarding her phone with pictures of Max and the neighbour’s dog whenever he took them for a walk. Which had been often from the number of times her phone had gone off. Still the pictures were cute, and she had saved a few to her phone, always letting him know how much she liked him.
She had a sneaky suspicion there were a few embarrassing ones on his phone still from where Max had bowled him over, and she was on a mission to send them to herself.
“So, what neighbourhood are we going to next?” Damian asked now, settling his cup in the holder. “There’s only a few more on the list.”
“Mmm, let’s go east of here. There’re a few houses listed around a couple of blocks, so it’ll have some of the best shows.” Anya said, leaning across the centre console to show him her phone, the map of the city open for him to read. His eyes tracked over the directions, before giving a hum of approval and he turned the car back on.
“It’ll probably be our last stop for the night. They’ll turn the lights off at one.”
“Fine by me. Let’s go.”
When Damian had returned to the city, looking grumpier than ever Anya knew that he needed some serious cheering up. They were meant to go and see all the Christmas lights with the others weeks ago, but circumstances had come up and he had been whisked away the week before the holidays even started. It had been Donovan’s attempt at ‘family bonding’, to try and reconnect with his son. Damian had hated every second of it, sourly complaining to her during their late night phone calls about how his father was trying to maintain the public image of family, and was bribing him into playing nice. He had taken a few of those bribes, he didn’t lie, but he didn’t honour the agreement his father had tried to tack on them.
So tonight, when he had been ranting about it again, Anya had suggested they go for a drive and look at the remainder of the lights, before they all got taken down. He had agreed and fifteen minutes later she had slipped out of the apartment in her pyjamas to meet him downstairs.
New Years had been three days ago, so there were still some peeling decorations covering the city, their glistening tinsel welcoming in the year. A lot of the listed houses had already taken down their lights, but there were still a few for them to enjoy. The tension in Damian’s face and shoulders had slowly begun to ease as they drove around, Anya had filled his silence with endless chatter. He had made a few comments every now and then, arguing a couple of her points, but she could tell he was just letting her voice wash over his mind, pushing aside his overthinking and letting it soothe his headache.
Sipping at her drink, Anya peered outside at the passing streets, not catching sight of any fun decorative lights as she did. A glance at the map said they were in the right area, so maybe it had all been taken down by now.
“Doesn’t seem to be anything.” Damian commented, thinking along the same lines as he peered over the steering wheel, careful not to lean on the horn.
“Mmm, just try the next couple of streets and see.”
He did as she asked, hand absently reaching for another doughnut and she watched the way the sugar clung to his lips thoughtfully.
“I’ve got a question for you.” She started, leaning against her door. He hummed questioningly and she wriggled to make herself comfortable. “If you had the choice between being a worm or a butterfly, which would you chose?”
“Butterfly.” He said instantly, not even looking her way.
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Hate the dirt. Plus, butterflies only live for two-four weeks. I’d only have to suffer on this miserable plant for a short amount of time.”
“Well that’s depressing. Did you take your meds today?”
“No. Threw them out.”
“Didn’t like the way they were making you feel?”
“Hated the way they were making me feel.”
Anya reached out a placed a small hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. He leaned into her touch reflexively and they both sighed sadly.
“What about you? Would you also be a butterfly?” He asked after a while, and she thought about it for a moment.
“Probably. But if I had the right support system, I’d be a worm.” She murmured, already liking the idea. “You could place me in one of those compost bins or worm farms, and feed me all day. If I was outside, I’d wriggle to the surface after a fresh spring rain and lay there soaking it all in. Everything would be like a jungle topside, and I’d feel like an explorer deep in the wild.”
“What if a bird came to nab you? How’d you defend yourself from them?”
“I’d have mastered Worm Jitsu, and use my failing body to smack it in the eye.” Anya said seriously, waving her arms around in demonstration. It got the desired effect, Damian snorted so hard he choked on his doughnut and she had to grab the wheel as he coughed.
“You’re a danger to society.” He wheezed, warm hands sliding over hers to take back the steering.
“A danger to all the potential bird worm napping me you mean.”
The smile he sent her made her stomach flutter, and she immediately shoved that down into the dark void where it belonged. Stuffing her face with another cinnamon-y treat, Anya looked back out at the cityscape, seeing the local McDonalds nearby.
“Hey, do you think the Hamburglar had a mask tan?”
“The who now?”
“The Hamburglar? You know, from the ads.” She gestured as the golden arches as they passed, and Damian raised a bemused eyebrow at her.
“You’re full of something tonight, aren’t you?”
“I only seek intellectual wisdom and power. Now, bestow your thoughts upon me.”
His thoughts were racing, trying to decide if he should laugh until he cried at her antics, or roll his eyes so hard he was sure he’d see the gates of hell.
“Yes, I think he did.”
“I don’t think he did.” She smirked, leaning back in her seat. Pointing at her faded Bondman shirt, she explained, “He wouldn’t have worn that mask all the time, it was to cover for his secret identity. Just like Bondman has a life outside of his missions.”
“He was a no one outside of his title, so of course he wore that mask all the time. It gave him a sense of purpose in life.” Damian snipped back, eyes tracing the fading print of her shirt for a moment. “But unlike Bondman he would do anything to be recognised. He’s like Plankton, trying to steal the Krabby Patty formula.”
Anya folded her arms over her chest, bringing her feet up onto the seat.
“Plankton doesn’t wear a mask. And maybe it was the Hamburglar’s secret weapon? A covert stealth robbery where he walked in as just himself and stole everything right from under their nose?”
“Can we go back to you talking about being a worm? Cause I’d squish you under my foot if you were one right now.”
Their lazy bickering was music to her ears, the smile that was forever growing on Damian’s face warming her heart. She didn’t like when he was in one of his depressive swings, and Christmas always seemed to bring out the worst of it in him.
“Okay, so if that Reddit post is true, why the hell did she say nothing for two years?” Anya gushed sometime later. They had parked up in a random spot by the river, McDonalds wrappers between them and a stack of chips growing colder by the minute left in the bag.
“So, she didn’t embarrass him? Do you realise how crippling to a man’s ego that is to be told you’re not good in bed? And he was putting so much effort into it.”
“But the song was horrible. I couldn’t live with myself if I had to fuck to that soundtrack every single time. I’d need slow and sensual, not-” she mimed the frantic, uneven beat of the song and Damian hid a smile behind his hand.
“Okay, it was a terrible choice, but he must feel horrible.”
“I would hope so. I wonder how many times he’s actually made her cum during their relationship.”
“There’s other ways-”
“I know, other than his dick. But he doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to be able to eat her out. And the pace of his fingers was probably prodding in time to the beat as well. He’d be jabbing at her walls instead of curling his fingers or playing with her clit.”
“You’ve been hanging out with Ewen too much. He’s corrupted you.” Damian’s eyes were twinkling and she just shot him a sly grin.
“Nah, this is all me baby.”
Damian just shook his head, leaning over to pick up one of the cooling fries. Munching on it, he pointed at the stack and said, “If you were a potato, what kind would you be?”
Anya considered it for a second, placing a thoughtful finger to her chin.
“Agria.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a type of potato.” She frowned at him. “You asked.”
“I meant, as in fries, mashed, boiled, etc.” He laughed, chucking a handful at her before rolling his eyes at her flush. “I’d be mashed. Fluffy or silky, creamy with butter and chives. Pairs well with gravy.”
“Fried I guess.” Anya muttered, before bouncing in her seat eagerly as she pulled fries from her hair. “Oh! Or those spiral ones on the stick you get at the fair! I’d be those.”
“Mmm, you are a little twisted.”
The words were laced with such warm affection that Anya had to pause in chewing the fries in her hand, looking over at him thoughtfully. He was settled against his window, head propped in his hand as he stared at her, that soft look from earlier dancing across his face. There was a sadness in his eyes though that screamed at her, and she got to her knees on the seat and crawled across into his lap. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she squeezed him tightly, her head buried against his neck.
“Hey, you know you’re loved right?”
He didn’t respond, just returning her hug tightly and burying his face into her shoulder, tears warming against her skin.
Thank you.
_____________________________________________________________________________
“Hey Anya?”
“Yeah?”
“Wanna go for a drive after school?”
_______________________________________________________________________________
Her back was pressed into the cold leather of the backseat, vaguely aware that her hair was caught awkwardly beneath her. The scorching kisses Damian was pressing against her lips and throat were requiring her full attention right now, as she moaned appreciatively into them. She clutched at his back, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as she titled her chin for easier access, her breath ghosting the side of his face as she trailed her own kisses along his jaw.
A particularly hungry kiss had her arching up into him, eyes fluttering as she whimpered at his obvious erection pressing against her deliciously through her jeans. He muttered something against her skin before reclaiming her lips, nibbling her bottom one in the way that she liked. Hands were wandering on both sides and she grazed the strings of his joggers, tugging him closer if possible.
“Anya.”
Ohhh, she really liked the sound of that, the husky, desperate need in his voice causing her to hike a leg further along his hip. The car windows were fogged up, hiding the two feverish teens from any wayward eyes as they rocked together. But Anya’s blissful state was ruined when a stray thought crossed her mind and she frowned in annoyance.
“Damian.”
“Yes, that’s right Anya. Moan my name like that.” He muttered against her jaw, jerking his hips against hers slightly. She blushed, really wanting to do as he demanded, but other matters were calling her attention.
“No, Damian, stop.”
He stopped instantly, one hand still tucked against her waist, the other high under her sweater, cupping her bare breast. His thumb was rough against her nipple and she was sorely tempted to tell him to forget about it and let him continue whatever wonderful thing he had been doing.
“What’s wrong?”
“How’d we get like this?”
Damian blinked down at her, face red from their activities, lips swollen from her eager teeth. His eyes were hazy in the moonlight, but the lust was slowly ebbing away as he watched her in confusion.
“What do you mean?” He asked, tilting his head slightly that made her want to pull him back down. “Here as in my car? I picked you up to go driving like usual.”
He accented this by squeezing her waist and she withered beneath him.
“Or do you mean here, in the backseat? The horn blared when I pulled you into my lap at some point, so I chucked you over here. You didn’t protest so I followed.”
“No, I don’t mean that.” She chuckled breathily, hyper aware that his thumb was moving again, even if he wasn’t. “I meant like this. When did we start...?”
She trailed off, begging him to understand what she was trying to convey, as the words wouldn’t form in her throat. He considered it for a moment, watching her with that striking gaze of his before bending down to nuzzle at her ear.
“Well, if I remember correctly, a little hand slid onto my thigh while we were driving and I damn well nearly crashed.” He murmured, nipping at her jaw, “And then once I had parked, that hand travelled to the back of my head and pulled ever so nicely on my hair. And after that, well, I think you remember my delight at discovering there was no bra tonight.”
She did remember his surprise; it had led to some wonderful kisses and fondling that she was eager to continue. But she struggled against him to pull away, swatting at his chest.
“Not that either idiot!”
“Then what Anya? I’m not the mind reader here.” Damian sighed, sitting up reluctantly to give her some space. She mourned the loss of his hand against her chest as it slid back to his side, but she knew that if they had this conversation quickly it would return in an instant.
“Here. As in, when did our nightly drives turn into make out sessions? How did that all start?”
Damian paused to consider her words, and she bit at her lip as she waited. She knew when he finally understood what she was trying to say, as a puzzled look swept his brow. Scratching at his mess of curls he shrugged at her.
“I dunno honestly. One moment we were discussing some weird video you had found on Tiktok, the next we were kissing. It had seemed natural at the time.”
His words were truthful, and she echoed that sentiment. Tension had been building up slowly every since that night looking for Christmas lights, until they had finally kissed. All she really remembered from that first kiss was that his breath smelt like peppermint and that his lips were as addicting as his touch. They had been like this for weeks, the acknowledgement of it all swept aside in their desire to elevate their sexual tension. It was a little surprising they hadn’t gone any further than this really, just desperate hands and dry humping in the back of his car, cause she knew she desperately wanted more right now. But there was one major topic they hadn’t addressed, and it had dawned on her just before.
“Do you like me?”
He shot her an incredulous glance, waving at his still semihard erection. “Really Anya?”
“No, no hear me out. I know you like...my body, but do you like me?” Her words weren’t coming out right, she could tell by the way he was staring at her. Maybe it was better to ignore this conversation. “Just forget it, I’m being stupid. Come back here and kiss me.”
She reached out to grab his t-shirt again, jumper long abandoned in the passenger seat, but he didn’t budge when she did.
“You want to know if I like you?” Damian asked, quirking an eyebrow at her in disbelief.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to answer.”
“No, I think I do. Cause you’re going to over think it.”
She couldn’t disagree with that, and she gave a guilty shrug at his words. Damian sighed and pulled her against his chest, wrapping a strong arm around her back. Running his hand up and down her side comfortingly, he nosed at her hairline tenderly.
“To answer your question, yes. I do like you. And not as in just a potential fuck buddy, but as in you’re my best friend and I’ve been crazy about you since we were six years old.”
She stared up at him in surprise, having not expected that. Though when she thought about it, it made sense, he had always been like an alarm when she was around; bright red and wailing in panic in his head.
“That long?”
“Ever since you marched up to me at lunch and tearfully apologised for knocking me on my ass.” He grinned, lifting her knuckles up to his mouth to kiss them. “I cherish that bruise your dainty little fist left on my cheek for weeks.”
“So why say nothing? If I had known-”
“You’d do what Anya? Confess that you felt the same way? Cause we both know that wouldn’t be true.”
She shuffled, as it was undeniably true. She did like him, so much so that it physically ached in her heart, but this feeling hadn’t fully bloomed until their midnight conversations started. It had probably been nestled there for years, waiting to be watered, but she hadn’t done anything to help it grow.
"Okay, maybe you’re right. But it doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”
I love you.
The words felt so right rolling off her tongue and she was startled to realise how light her soul felt for admitting them. Damian was staring at her now, a flattered pink glow caressing his cheeks.
“You love me?” His squeak was adorable and she had never wanted to jump him more than now. He grinned as she nodded and he buried his face into her hair, trying to hide a pleased flush. “You’re not just saying that because of how much I love you?”
“No numb nuts. You wormed your way into my heart somehow years ago. I just was slow on the uptake.”
“Really? Didn’t notice. But, seriously, are you telling the truth? Cause I don’t think I could handle you playing with my heart like that.”
Rolling her eyes Anya shuffled in his grasp, pulling his hand back up her shirt to reclaim her breast. Holding it there she feathered kisses along his jaw as she wriggled back into his lap, feeling his half-mast begin to stir.
“Would I be doing this if I didn’t? Now shut up and put that mouth back to use.”
“This conversation isn’t over.” He growled against her mouth, before capturing her retort against his tongue. His actions were even more eager than before, his palm squeezing and kneading at her boob so nicely it made her throw her head back and groan. His other hand had slipped to support her lower back as she rocked against him breathlessly, slipping a couple of fingers into the waist of her tight jeans. Anya couldn’t keep her hands still, squeezing every part of him she could reach, encouraging him to kiss the bare shoulder that was peeking out of her sweater, yelping at the hungry love bites he left in his wake.
Shirt. Off.
She complied hurriedly, not even getting it over head before his mouth was on her other breast, squeezing her nipple between his fingertips as he bit into the tender flesh. The hand on her butt was pressing her closer against him as she squirmed, the remnants of the cool winter air tickling as his hot breath ghosted a fine trail across her flesh.
This time, she really did moan his name, feeling his grin against the underside of her breast as she did. They were grinding against each best they could, and Anya dared to reach down to cup him through his sweats, eliciting the best sounding groan she’d ever heard as she did. He was thick in her palm, and she wondered briefly of the weight before she was tipping back again as he lay her across the seat. Anya didn’t have time to consider the cold as Damian was crawling down her body, leaving wet kisses in his wake. His hands were on the button of her jeans, and he paused to peer up at her.
“You wanted to know how much I like you? How I love you?” He whispered against her hip bone, leaving a small bite when she squirmed in anticipation. “I didn’t bring anything with me tonight, and I don’t expect you to do anything in return, but let me do this, please.”
Anya just tugged at his hair in response. Her jeans were gone in a flash, and she half sighed at the feeling of blood returning to her calves. Skinny jeans were too tight sometimes, but they made her ass look so good. Something Damian attested to as he squeezed at her butt now, lifting up her hips so he could place a kiss against her covered core.
“Damian!”
He wasn’t even bothering to tease her, no light kisses along her thighs as he pushed her underwear aside, nosing at the damp curls beneath. The warmth of his breath there already made her toes curl and she nearly shrieked with delight when his lips brushed against her skin. But when his mouth found its way between her folds, tongue flicking out against her, she went boneless with a long moan.
She knew he had a wicked tongue, their arguments over the years had been proof enough before he showed her what else it could do. But now, as it eagerly lapped at her core, causing her to ascend to a higher level of heaven, Anya wondered what she had been done to be so blessed by it. Damian seemed to thrive off her reactions, becoming more eager with every vocal yes that slipped from her lips. She had one hand in his hair, another toying to her breast as she lay splayed there, feet propped up on his shoulders nearly hitting the window. And when he entered one long digit into the mix, curling it teasingly against her walls as he wrapped his lips around her clit, she knew she’d be in for a hell of a night.
Hands flying down to his hair, she arched against him, a long string of gibberish leaving her lips. Her thighs squeezed around his head and she worried for a moment about suffocating him, but he just groaned in response which felt so damn good vibrating through her. Another finger slipped into the mix, working her just right, as if he already knew how to make her scream. Given all the memories of his wet dreams that had floated through his head throughout the years, he had probably envisioned this for a while. Hell, what he was doing now even she didn’t know she liked.
Spots were beginning to form in her vision and she had to close her eyes to stop them. She had said weeks ago about no boy every being able to pass her kissing test, because she had looking for a man it seemed. And he had been right there in front of her this whole time, just waiting for her realise. Damian was suckling on her clit again, pounding his palm against her core as his tongue lapped at everything she had to offer. Heaven seemed so blissfully close.
Anya came loudly and unexpectedly.
One moment she was pulling at his hair encouraging him to repeat whatever letter he had been spelling out, the next her whole body was on fire, coursing with a sweet release that Damian drank greedily.
“Damian, Damian, Damian.”
His name was like a mantra on her lips, body shaking with pleasure as it ebbed through her like waves. He didn’t stop though, fingers only just slowing down enough to let her rock against them. Honestly, she didn’t want it to end, and she managed to open her eyes to find herself looking straight into his, dark as the amber whiskey they had shared weeks ago.
I love you, Anya.
He didn’t need to say it, she could already tell. And as he bent back down to kiss along her thighs, listening to her whisper her own words of praise, she knew it’d be the soundtrack for the remainder of the night and for all the rest that were to come.
I love you