Naturally Pretty • Damianya Time Skip

Wishful Thinking

Shit.

It was just them leaving the room after Anya passed the quiz, effectively dodging the final bolt threat for the day. Damian waited for her at the back, impressing their professor with his extraordinary studiousness as he declared himself reading the textbook for their next lesson.

The professor dashed out as soon as Anya passed and was dismissed. At the corner of his eyes, Damian secretly watched her bounce on her toes happily.

"Thank you, Sy-on boy! I owe you!" Anya shouted as she ran toward the boy.

"You should listen more and sleep less in class, stubby." Damian closed his book as she approached. It's almost evening yet her radiance was still blinding. Finishing the day without a bolt was probably that much of a relief.

"That may be difficult. I can't help but tune out. Sleeping is easier," Anya said with a wink. Damian inevitably reddened.

"Y-You're impossible," he replied, shoving his book into his bag. He can feel his cheeks heating up. Why not? That was the cutest wink he ever received in his existence.

"Well, I don't have to worry for I have a really intelligent friend to run to when the going gets tough!" Anya said, her pointing finger landing on Damian.

Oh, now she's his responsibility? Not that he's complaining, but as a mature individual, the girl should be able to work on these things on her own. Maybe it would be nice to have her with him in the library and watch her frown soften as he guided her on the worksheets he'd be giving. But he shouldn't tolerate her slacking, you see...

"I'm kidding, Sy-on boy! Of course, I won't burden you with myself. I'm very difficult to teach as you've experienced. It was really a big deal that you helped me today. I should go home."

Great, now Anya looked awkward at him.

Anya waved with a smile. Damian thinks it's fake and an ill attempt to leave the vicinity. He was still sorry for not accepting to teach her.

He saw her walk backwards rather clumsily, to his horror. Had she forgotten the elevation? Anya almost fell. Almost, had Damian not rushed forth to her aid. He quickly reached for her hand and pulled her close, his arm cradling her on her waist. Before he knew it, he was leaning down at Anya who rested on his arm, his face dangerously close to hers.

Shit.

She's so close.

Just when his eyes darted on her lips, he felt Anya's palm warm his left cheek.

He looked at her eyes, diving into the viridescent hues, trying to assess the situation they are in. The woman is literally in his arms — shouldn't she be squirming away? Yet, he sensed not even a bit of resistance.

This somehow gave him a boost of confidence. He closed in, eager to feel their noses touch.

He could whiff her sweet scent and a breath of peanuts as he inched even closer to take her luscious lips.

He felt his inner turmoil dissolve. He pulled her even closer.

She's his. Damn his damn surname.

"Hey, Emile! Where do you think bossman went? Should we check the classroom?" Anya and Damian whipped their heads to the door at the faint voices.

"Nah, he's most likely at the library. We should get him and ourselves coffee and wait him out in the dorm."

Unsurprisingly, Damian then felt Anya's palm leave his cheek.

"S-S-Sorry, for being so clumsy, Sy-on boy! Haha..." Anya blurted out, her hands flying to her face. The magic between them was effectively broken.

Damian cursed under his breath as he assisted Anya back on her feet, his face beet red.

I was so close...

Damian sighed as he reached for his bag and stepped down the hall.

He almost kissed Anya Forger. He bit his lower lip. She touched his face and stared back at him. Was she okay with him kissing her?

How many guys has kissed her anyway? Had they kissed, was it also her first?

Damian watched as she stuffed her things into her bag. "Forger, I'll walk you to the gate."

Anya shot him a surprised look. "Oh? Color me surprised." She took her bag onto her hand, the other holding her skirt. "How very gentlemanly of you, Lord Damian," Anya teased with a little curtsy.

Ah. 'Lord Damian' with the tone of Anya Forger's teasing as she curtsied was music to his ears.

~~~~~

Thankfully, the awkwardness between Damian and Anya was immediately gone once they left the classroom. They walked past the garden, the greens jogging Damian's memory of a certain envelope sitting on his desk.

"So, Mystery Sender," Damian said, noticing how Anya's breathing hitched, "Care to explain what you meant in your letter?"

"Me?" Anya said, brushing her pink locks with her slender fingers. When she looked, she was welcomed by Damian's piercing stare — a warning that he had caught her pretense. Anya was forced to drop the act.

"Hmm... I didn't expect the top imperial scholar of our year needing my help to decipher a simple message."

"You seem to imply something. And the last thing I can correctly surmise is whatever's happening inside a certain pink-head's brain."

Anya chuckled. "Well, it's just that years of being classmates with you made me realize how different you are from the rest. Like, you have this crazy drive to be perfect all the time, always doing that which is expected of a stellar student to the point of, I think, overworking yourself. I am impressed and at the same time wondering if you even enjoy your life?"

Damian pouted. He knew she has a knack of understanding people, but it always awed him how she's noticed such things about him. "I am fine. It's just normal to act a certain way to uphold the family's reputation. Although, in my case, the expectations are very high."

"That's why you work so hard. Yeah, I get that. It's just that, you know... I hope you are also taking the time to do things that you really like... the ones that make you truly happy," Anya said, stopping to face him. She stared at him, her shiny bright green eyes made Damian hold his breath.

"Say, Sy-on boy... Is there anything you wish to do if you weren't wearing your fancy surname?"

Damian's grip tightened on his bag's handle as he halted his steps. He is awfully aware of the limitations imposed on him of being a Desmond. Hanging out with his friends for one. The places must be of a high caliber. His extracurricular activities where he is not allowed to pursue artistic ones like painting or dancing. Being with a certain girl however much he adored her. Damian sighed.

"You seemed to have arrived at your answer easily. You might not be dumb at all!" Anya smirked, twirling away towards the path to the gate. "What is it? Going to the carnival? Trying the commoner street foods that Ewen and Emile frequent? I recommended that and they really like it, Becky even! Hey, you can be more accepting of commoners like me."

"Got your point but can't. Why are you telling me this, then? You being concerned of me seems farfetched."

Anya responded, partially turning her head. "Nothing!"

Damian raised an eyebrow. Huh? Is she red?

"Of course I'm not!" Anya shouted back.

"Huh? I'm not saying anything."

"Oh! I thought you said something I dislike... Haha!" Anya found herself by the gate. "See you tomorrow, Sy-on boy!" She briefly faced him and waved. He waved back as she passed through and disappeared.

Wait... Is she blushing? No, that's impossible.

Damian scratched his head. Thinking that Anya Forger likes him back is just that -- wishful thinking. After all, he's bullied her ever since.

There's no way she's fallen for him.

~~~~~