late again? (funeral version)

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The door slammed open in the middle of class. Who was it?

Of course, Forger.

Late again?

That dumb little runt. Damian scoffed, not surprised in the least.

"Sorry, Mr. Henderson, I missed the bus, and, ...and..." she paused her rambling, taking a deep breath before opening her mouth to speak again, but the professor held up a finger for silence.

"Please just, take a seat Ms. Forger." he let out a loud sigh as Anya sheepishly headed to her seat.

As she passed by his desk, she slowed down just a hair, letting her fingers brush against his.

--

The next day, she was late. Again.

Damian wondered if he should start picking her up instead. He had a licence and Anya was lazy and an idiot and missed the bus all the time. It would be nice to start the day with some company. She'd blabber on and on about trivial matters and he would mock her but smile in secret, thinking about how cute she was.

Forger met his eye across the room, a big silly grin on her face, and Damian frowned and turned towards the window. He hoped she didn't see the blush that dusted his cheeks or the secret smile resting upon his lips.

--

The next time she was late, the classroom was dark and a movie was playing on the projector. Mr. Evans told her to sit by Damian, and maybe that she would soak in some of his studiousness.

She was unsuccessful, falling asleep on his shoulder almost immediately. He tried not to freak out from excitement, which was silly since it should have been anger. Perhaps it was anger; he was just not knowledgeable enough to recognize it.

When the teacher asked her about the movie, she answered perfectly, her animated expression making it seem like she watched the movie. She probably did before; that was the only reasonable explanation.

When she sat back down, she gave him a proud grin and he scorned her ridiculousness, telling her off for sleeping and being late, which only succeeded in making her even more delighted.

She was pretty when she smiled.

--

He didn't know what was going on with this year and Forger being late basically every class, but it was amusing to see her frustrated.

And as much as he hated seeing her cry, he liked being the shoulder she could sob on when Mr. Henderson chewed her out for her tardiness. They weren't real, heartbroken tears. Crying was just a habit of Anya's.

Hugging him for comfort was also a habit of hers. That is, when Blackbell wasn't there. He liked those days most because those were the days when Anya walked with him and talked with him and sat next to him the whole day.

Emile and Ewen didn't like those days. But they could rot for all he cared.

Maybe she'd be late tomorrow. And maybe Blackbell would be absent again.

--

As expected, Anya was late the next day as well. Coming into the classroom with her hair damp and clothes soaked, she was the equivalent of a drowned rat. A cute drowned rat, but still a rat nonetheless.

When the teacher asked her to dry off outside, she didn't protest and wordlessly trudged out the classroom. Was she okay?

She seemed okay when Blackbell teased her for being late again. But her eyes were red and puffy, from tears that were real and heartbroken and not just a habit.

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