Damianya One-Shots

Sunkissed (HS)

Damian turned his page, looking down at his page number. One hundred and forty four. Blegh.

He looked up from his book, deciding to take a small break—his attention span was short that morning, and he couldn't stand to read one more word about the Hundred Years' War—he was sat outside that morning: the world had this beautiful, orange hue to it, making it all look ethereal. He admired it as he sat against his favorite oak tree, not even minding the way its' rough bark tousled his hair.

Damian smiled, thinking back to how he even discovered it. He had just turned eight, and he was being chased by no one other than Anya Forger. She was screaming at him about going to his house, and how she was one stella ahead of him—being given a new stella star that day—so she should be allowed to.

Obviously Damian had objected, but he was to distracted by insulting the pinkette to pay attention to what was right in front of him. He ran face first into the old oak, bloodying his nose and falling backwards, butt-first onto its overgrown roots.

He had let out an atrocious wail, not even able to tell Anya to get away when she ran to help him, blotting his face with her handkerchief.

She had helped him calm down, humming to him a little song Damian had later learned was from Spy Wars. She hadn't gotten in trouble for it—Damian was too embarrassed to admit he cried, and Anya had helped him, even if it was just to save herself from a tonitrus bolt.

Damian let out a soft little laugh, his mind now filling with thoughts of that mischievous pinkette. Nine years later and they were dating, and she was just as terrible as she was when they were kids.

Anya was actually supposed to meet him there—it was their free period—but she was running late, per usual. She was probably getting a bag of peanuts, or luxuriating in the cool air inside Eden College.

Damian blushed a little, feeling a tinge of embarrassment as his mind continued to theorize on why she was late—maybe Chemistry was holding her up?—he loved doing it, but gosh, was it embarrassing. Especially when you consider what Anya can do.

His girlfriend could read minds. It was pretty crazy when he actually thought about it—she knew what everyone around her was thinking. She didn't even have to try—Anya had once explained it to him, saying 'It's just like they're speaking.' He later learned that that explanation was very truthful, considering that she couldn't differentiate someone thinking, and someone talking.

A little smile grew on Damian's face as he imagined that cute face she made when he thought something in public, and since they weren't facing each other—and, as Anya put it, the thought 'wasn't thought-like'—she answered as if he were speaking to her with his voice. She had been embarrassed, and it was absolutely adorable. Her nose was pink, and her cheeks were even pinker. Her green eyes were huge, and her lips were slightly open, as if she were taken completely by surprise. Luckily, no one around them had heard her, but she was still so flustered.

"So cute..." Damian softly snickered to himself, thoughts of his girlfriend running through his mind.

"You're so obsessed!" A voice called out to him, making Damian gasp. He snapped his history book up, covering the lower half of his face whilst his knees hopped up to his chest.

Anya just laughed at his embarrassment, jogging over to her boyfriend with a knowing smirk. "Now you get to be embarrassed—serves you right for reminding me of that."

Damian relaxed, relieved that it was Anya. He sat his book down next to him, a smile on his lips as Anya finally reached him. She plopped herself down in front of him, and Damian couldn't help but wonder what the new pink powder staining her uniform was.