Damianya one shots ❤️

This Floor is a Mess (3)

A comedy nobody asked for :)

Chapter 3: Tutoring, Timing & Terrible Coincidences

This was only the second day, and it seemed like the three were about to explode and leave the apartment in a matter of seconds. They had all finally agreed their "relationships" if a neighbour ever asked and went to bed, none of them had even a wink of sleep.

Damian Desmond had decided on three things by the end of the first day in the apartment:

1. He could survive living with two terrifying adults he barely knew.

2. He could not survive curious neighbours (without someone to supervise or help him).

3. Anya Forger was the only normal thing in his life—and even that was debatable.

He patiently waited for her just outside the school gates, hands in his pockets, posture straight. He told her it was coincidence. That he just happened to be walking the same way she did. But he knew deep down that he'd wait outside the block and make it look like he was just passing by when he heard her coming down the stairs.

Anya was late. As usual.

She came running, backpack bouncing, hair a mess. "SYON BOY! You waited!"

"I—" Damian cleared his throat. "I was already here."

She grinned. He lost the argument immediately.

They stayed after school in an empty classroom. It was their usual tutoring session and as usual Anya didn't understand a single question. Damian sat beside her, pointing at her workbook.

"This problem," he said, trying to sound patient, "isn't hard if you actually read it."

"I did read it," Anya protested. "It just didn't like me."

Damian sighed but smiled anyway. "You don't divide there. You factor first."

Anya stared at the page. Then at him.

"...Wow. You're smart."

He stiffened. "I know."

She giggled. He's proud. And trying not to be.

Mind-reading aside, Anya noticed things. Like how Damian checked his phone more often lately. Like how he didn't text her late at night anymore. Like how he'd pause sometimes, distracted, when unknown numbers called.

She frowned slightly.

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Back at the Apartment 

Damian returned home later than usual, books tucked under his arm.

The hallway was quiet.

Too quiet.

"Daniel~!"

He froze.

Poppy stood outside the apartment door, leaning against the wall like she'd been waiting on purpose.

"Oh—hi," Damian said, immediately switching to polite-mode. "Is... something wrong?"

"Nope!" she said cheerfully. "I just wanted to see how you were settling in."

Abort mission. Abort mission. Leave now.

"It's fine," he said quickly. "Very fine. Quiet. Normal."

Poppy smiled wider. "You always say things so calmly. It's kind of cool."