Damianya one shots ❤️

If only ...

⚠️Warning! Angst, sad, makes you wanna cry⚠️

Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Anya groaned, rolling over in bed to silence her persistent alarm clock. Just as she was about to throw off her blanket, she felt a strong arm grab her from behind, pulling her into a warm embrace. "Do you always have to wake up this early?" Damian murmured, his grip tightening as if to prevent her from slipping away. "Alright, five more minutes," she said, glancing over her shoulder and smiling at how adorable he looked at that moment. "You're the best..." he whispered softly before drifting back into sleep. The warmth of his breath against her neck and the feeling of his arms around her made her heart skip a beat. It was incredible to think they had only been dating for half a year. 

Then, out of nowhere, a chill ran down Anya's spine. "Syon boy?" she called, instinctively turning around, but there was no one there. It was as if he had vanished into thin air, a page torn out of a fairytale. One by one, everything around her—the bed, the curtains—disappeared until she was left alone in utter darkness. Suddenly, she spotted a door at the end of a narrowing hallway that hadn't been there before. Driven by desperation, Anya sprinted toward it, but with every step, the hall seemed to grow narrower. Without warning, the floor beneath her feet gave way, and she plunged into an endless abyss. 

Looking up, she saw Damian peering down at her through the door. "Damian!" she screamed, only to find herself abruptly awake in her familiar bed. "Anya, are you alright?" Yor's concerned voice pierced through the morning silence. "Anya's fine, Mama. Just a dream about a world without peanuts," she reassured her, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Today's the day, she thought, packing a black dress into her bag.

It had been a year—a whole year since it happened. Everyone else had resumed their daily routines, as if they'd forgotten, but not Anya. She would NEVER forget. She found herself reliving their last day together, a memory so vivid it felt like reality. 

On their third date at a museum, Damian read aloud from a description beside a painting: "In a dark alley in the streets of Ostania lay a young girl, crying. A few soldiers stood in front of her, as if to guard her from the outside world." Anya, already bored with the museum, felt a shiver as she gazed at the painting. "Why are you so intrigued by this one?" Damian asked, genuinely curious. "I don't know," she replied, her face pale. There was something unsettling about the scene. The soldiers looked less like guardians and more like jailers. The girl's clothing seemed eerily familiar. Anya couldn't shake the feeling that it was a veiled threat from the lab meant for her. "Damian, do you know when this painting was made?" she inquired, striving to sound casual. "It was painted years ago, but it was only displayed today. Why?" he responded, concern etched on his face. It's another threat, Anya thought. 

The lab kept trying to intimidate her, but there was no way she was going back to that life. The needles, the experiments, the blood... it scared her to even think of it. Early on, during the first month of their relationship, Anya had decided she wouldn't keep secrets like her parents jobs and her telepathy. Damian knew all about the threats from the lab, a silent testament to the trust they had built. She had had several threats, five to be precise, three found on their dates and two unknown phone calls. 

"We should probably get going, Syon boy." Anya said, her voice wavering.

"Well, let's go home shall we madam?" Damian asked, with a fake British accent, lightening up the mood almost immediately.

"Very well, dear." Anya replied, being posh.

They both burst onto giggles and laughter in a matter of seconds, throwing comments about his accent or about her English. Not a day was dull when they were together.

It didn't last though. She could hear distant screams and cries. The happy memory faded as she turned to her right to see it. The moment she'd NEVER forget.

There she was, in a dark alley, cornered. She was like a mouse that had fell right into their trap. How could I be so naive? she thought, looking back at herself.

"Don't do it!" Tears streaming down her face as she screamed with all her might, knowing that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't change what had already happened.

Donovan Desmond had finally repossessed subject 007, just as his son had threatened to expose him.

"If you come here, tell all those people out there that all of this is just a misunderstanding, then I'll let this thing go, Damian. If you expose me, I will kill her and her family, wiping out their entire existence. Which one will you choose, son?" He asked, his eyes full of malice and no regret.

"NO! No, don't be an idiot! Don't do it! You KNEW he was lying!" She began yelling, tears falling rapidly, as she covered her eyes, trying desperately to forget. Distant gunshots were heard and the last thing she saw was Damian smiling down at her, before everything went black.

The scene shifted to the next day when they announced his death and his funeral date. All that could be seen was a sea of black. Many were paid by Donovan to weep whilst others attended just to see the face Ostania's political leader. She was enraged. How could people be so cruel? she thought, fed up of the thoughts that flooded her.

She tried being strong, she really did. She tried to get back to her daily routine, just like everyone else. But her daily routine revolved around him. It was impossible to get over it. She even began seeing things. She saw him everywhere. The memories of him haunted her. She tried therapy, mainly because the therapist was Papa, but it didn't work. Nothing worked.

Just when all was lost, it seemed as if she'd unlocked a new warmth in her. It was about five months since he had passed away and this was the first time she'd felt happy in a long time. That night she went to bed and woke up smiling. She had recalled a memory that was hidden at the back of her mind.

Damian's head was lying on her lap as she was crying her heart out. "Anya..." he quietly said, looking at her smiling. "I love you..." he whispered, holding her hand. 

Suddenly she felt a warmth grow inside her. Her heart was racing, like never before. She suddenly felt at ease. It was as if he was reassuring her that it was gonna be okay. The next few months flew by, with memories of him helping her get through the day. Even Loid noticed that she'd been happier lately.

She was now standing in front of his gravestone. "Love will always prevail.", it read. It seemed he was helping her even when he wasn't there anymore. Yes, life was better than before, and Donovan Desmond was finally imprisoned, but Anya still had a lingering thought at the back of her mind...

"If only ..."