Driver or Lover? || Damianya Fanfic || ✔️

just this once

Damian lets out a sigh as he stops at a red light. His windows are rolled up and Anya can't see him, but he most definitely can see her.

She's pacing around at the bus stop, bag on the bench and uniform a mess, tugging on her already messy pink hair.

She still has those horns, Damian notices, letting out a noise that's somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. Puberty may have hit her well but it certainly didn't do anything to her childish fashion taste. Sometimes he thinks she could learn from Blackbell, but of course he would never say that out loud, already being able to see the smug grin on the brunette's face as she cries triumphantly, "Aha! So you admit that I'm perfect!"

Far from perfect. Very, very far from perfect.

From the agitated lookーcute brows furrowed, biting her lower lip, blinking her pretty eyes rapidly, classic Anya. He's no mind-reader, but Damian can read her like a book that he's spent the last twelve years memorizingーand the fact that there's no other students, and of course that it's ten minutes till school starts, she's missed the bus. Again. No surprise there.

He's tempted to leave her in her dilemma; to teach her a lesson to wake her ass up earlier and not miss the bus every day. But it's too late. Her head suddenly snaps to his direction and she brightens, almost leaping to his car.

Damian doesn't know how she knew it was him since he installed the darkest window tints he could find, but she's already by his door, rapping her knuckles against the glass urgently.

Sighing, Damian rolls down the window. "What do you want?"

Before she opens his mouth, he already knows what she's going to say. "Can you drive me to school?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No." He's rolling up the window but Anya's stuck her hand in the way so he stops, not wanting to hurt her even though he knows it won't do any harm.

"Pleeeeeeease? Pretty, pretty, pleeeeeese?" She's making those faces at him, pursing her lips and widening her emerald green eyes. Ugh.

Damian glances at his watch then up at the traffic light. It should turn green soon. Anya would have to walk to school. Life's full of hardships, after all.

"Sy-on Boy?"

There's that stupid nickname again. It originated from when they were six and Anya was too dumb and uncultured to pronounce the word 'scion' correctly. And why it stuck, he never knew.

"Sy-on Boy?" she asks again, reaching in to tap him on his shoulder. He almost flinches at her touch and lets out another sigh.

"Get in. Quick."

"Yay!" she squeals, jumping up and down and clapping her hands like a child. "Thank you, thank you, thank you-"

"Hurry up!" he barks, tapping the steering wheel pressingly and looking up at the traffic light. "Five, four, threetwoone-" his words are a slur and it's immature, but he secretly smiles as Anya hastily runs back for her backpack.

Anya grabs her bag and practically flings her body into the backseat of the car.

Right on cue, the lights blink green and Damian blares his horn loudly at the car in front of them. Six minutes till the bell rings.

"Thanks, Sy-on Boy," she says breathlessly, sticking her head in between the front seats.

That's dangerous. She could hit her head or get trapped in an awkward position if the car collapsed. Not to mention that she didn't even buckle in her seat belt.

"Why are you sitting in the back? Do I look like a chauffeur to you?" he growls, drumming his fingers against the wheel and adjusting the radio to hear her better.

"You'd make a hot chaeffeur," Anya remarks, and it takes all of Damian's logic not to overthink that. "You have that strict kinda look, with the black hair and black eyes. Plus the nose fits the vibe."

She props her feet on the seat beside her and Damian wrinkles his nose at the thought of all the dirt, already regretting his decision of letting her in. Who knows where her commoner feet have been or how long it's been since she washed her shoes? He's going to have to wash his car again, isn't he?

"Get your feet off. And buckle your seat belt in for goodness sake."

Anya draws out a long whine but reluctantly complies. He sees her pouting with her arms crossed through the rear view mirror and wants to chuckle at her adorableness. Not that he would ever say that out loud.

Her silence doesn't last long though. Soon, she's blabbering about a nonsensical dream she had and then shifts topics to a conversation with her father.

"Are you listening to me? Dami?"

"No," he replies gruffly, even though he heard every word—from "there was a giant teddy bear chasing me!" to "and then he was like 'what are you doing, Anya?' and I said 'nothing, nothing.'"—and every little breath that came out of her sweet mouth.

Anya grins at him like an idiot and Damian averts his eyes in front of him to stop himself from blushing. Anya grins even wider and Damian snaps at her to continue talking. She does, but now she winks at him every time they make eye contact in the rear view mirror.

Ugh.

"Get off. We're here. And two minutes from being late, so hurry the fuck up," he commands, parking the car is the employee only parking lotーhis father practically donated the school, so fuck it.

"Okay, okayyyy. Stop being such an ass," Anya teased, leaning over to flick him on the forehead.

Damian scowled as he got out of the car too, rubbing his forehead even though it didn't hurt. "Only this once, okay? Get your butt on the bus next time."

Anya rolled her eyes but there was a beautiful smile that graced her lips and Damian felt the corners of his mouth tug upward. "Okay. Just this once."

A/N: not gonna lie, I wrote this solely because I'm too lazy  and un-creative to update BSB. This is gonna be a short series because I just need something to post every Friday and it's sure as frick not gonna be Blank Space so.

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