Chapter Text
Damian was dreaming again. Dreaming of her.
She haunted all his dreams recently. In the good ones he managed to walk away. Rid himself of the distraction that was her blinding smile and enchanting whispers. He could resist the way she called out to him, filling his chest with tender warmth.
In the bad ones he couldn’t. On the worst nights her laughter drew him in like a siren song. Anya would speak softly, words dipped in longing like she truly wanted him. On these nights he could confidently hold her, place his head against her collarbone and feel like he belonged there. And she would run her fingers through his hair and whisper things sweeter than he could ever deserve.
This was a bad dream. Right now every horrible memory faded to dust when he laced their fingers together. When he brushed his fingers against her cheek, skin too soft for someone so reckless. He just wanted a little more time like this, a few more seconds so the mess could disappear.
“Damian.”
“Anya,” he muttered, reaching weakly toward her sweet melody.
“Damian.” She sounded annoyed. “Dude, quit fantasizing we’re here.”
He was awake. And it wasn’t Anya’s beautiful green eyes greeting him. Ewen and Emile were peering down over bus seats with amused grins. He closed his eyes and adjusted more comfortably in his seat.
“No thanks.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Ewen said, dropping a duffel bag abruptly on Damian’s lap. “You signed up for this.”
“I didn’t want to.”
“Did someone forge your signature?” Emile asked with an eye roll. They already stood in the bus aisle to follow their classmates off. With a groan Damian joined them because no. He technically signed the sheet.
The past month he’d attempted to persuade every faculty member he could to get him out of this optional camping field trip-more essays, extra tests, grading papers, and class clean up-but nothing worked. Apparently, they had finalized plans and changing the number of students involved would be too much work.
The only reason he voluntarily signed up to be miserable for a full weekend was that at the beginning of the year he had desperately wanted to impress Anya. The way her eyes had dazzled when talking about the weekend in the woods, discussing activities they could do together and all she could teach him. His heart set ablaze at the images she painted and he didn’t think twice about how much he hated dirt.
Months later all he had was a poorly packed duffle bag and regret.
Damian glanced out the bus windows and spotted Anya speaking animatedly with Blackbell. His heart panged painfully when she laughed at Blackbell’s suitcase getting caught in a pile of branches. It had been a few months since they’d had a direct conversation. Once or twice Blackbell would take a sudden interest in his life but he knew that was Anya being nosey.
“Where should we put our tents?” Emile asked once off the bus.
“Does it matter?” Damian looked around the campsite. Ground and trees. Nothing exactly stood out. “Everything looks the same.”
“I mean I don’t want to be by the forest edge. What if there's bears?” Ewen commented.
“Bears aren’t native here.” His friends released a breath of relief before he added, “It’s mountain lions but there’s no sightings near this area.”
“Mountain lions!?” Emile panicked. He immediately ran to the teacher supervising the trip for confirmation. To be fair Damian never fact-checked, it was something Anya had mentioned in prior ramblings.
Speaking of. His eyes roamed the site and happened to land on the girl in question already setting up her own tent. Blackbell forever useless stood to the side fanning herself with the instruction manual. On second thought Damian knew the perfect spot to set up base.
He pivoted in the opposite direction.
“Where are you going?” Ewen asked.
“Setting up my tent.”
“That’s so out of the way! You’re nowhere near us.”
Damian shrugged. He reached the forest’s edge and dropped the bag on uneven ground. A perfect spot when he thought about it he could barely hear any of his classmates. Maybe he could spend the whole weekend hiding in his flimsy tent. Fake sick so everyone would leave him alone.
He dumped the tent’s contents out and blinked. What the hell was all this? There was no way he needed that many parts for a single-person tent. The hell were the little metal sticks and why were all the big ones connected with the rope? He thought it would just pop up.
The instruction manual taunted him from the bottom of the bag.
Stupid camping. Making him read stupid instructions for a stupid tent. He was too smart to have to be demeaned by a manual. He opened the booklet with a raised brow. All he got from it was that tents were untrustworthy and unstable. He wanted to go home.
“Do you need help?”
Damian jumped, scrambling not to drop the instruction packet. He had always hated how Anya snuck up on him and now was no exception. He glanced over his shoulder at her half-smile. He brought all focus back to the instructions when his heart unwillingly skipped.
“I got it.”
“But you’re reading instructions,” she pointed out before adding, “you hate reading instructions.”
“Not anymore.”
He felt her presence like electricity when she leaned closer to peek at the paper. “You’re starting on step nine.”
Oh. “I’m studying ahead.”
Anya gave him that exhausted look when she knew he was lying. He hated that look. And logically this was the part where he told her to leave. The part where Damian Desmond gave that final push and rid himself of the massive wound labeled ‘Anya Forger’ forever.
Too bad he loved torturing himself. “Don’t you have your own tent?”
“I finished,” she said pointing toward a complete double-sized tent that hadn’t been there two minutes ago.
“Fine.”
Anya’s smile beamed and she immediately went to work on his tent. “Put the big black sticks together,” she instructed.
They worked quietly for a few moments and Damian disliked the unusual discomfort of their silence. But what had he expected? That he could ignore her for three months and everything would just feel normal? The last conversation they had after returning to school was him saying, ‘he was just confused and needed more time’. Even he wouldn’t know what to do with that.
“Here’s the sticks. What should I-”
“Are you still processing?” Anya blurted the question and Damian stiffened. He had given up on processing long ago. Every outcome had been burned into his brain from how many hours he’d wasted thinking about it.
“Sort of.” He chanced a look at her, realizing she was studying him. Her eyes dismantled him slowly, ready to dissect every lie he had on hand. Call him out for everything he was too tired to convince her of.
She didn’t look away when she said, “you’re still avoiding me.”
“I’m not obligated to talk to you.”
Her eyes widened in shock, hurt. Because although it was true, it wasn’t something he would normally say. And even though it already felt like his heart had been ripped out and pushed through a shredder, it still somehow ached to watch her shoulders fall defeatedly.
“I guess not.” Anya looked at the half-put-together tent, hesitating before pushing the instruction book back at him. “I think you’ll be fine on your own.”
He watched her go, eyes landing on the half-completed equipment around him. A knot formed in his stomach as he unnecessarily thumbed through the booklet's pages. He hadn’t liked the resignation in her voice.
“You’re still working on your tent?” Ewen asked, startling him.
“Apparently.”
“Were you talking to Anya?” He followed up, crouching beside him to start assisting with the building. He started inserting the sticks Anya had him put together through some strands along the sides of the thin fabric.
“Something like that.”
“Are you friends again?” Emile strolled up. “I think watching you fight is taking years off my life.”
“I’m sure you’ll survive.” Damian side-eyed him, annoyed. “And we’re not fighting.”
“So Anya angrily stomped away just now because you weren’t fighting?”
“I’m not fighting,” Damian said matter-of-factly. “Anya’s her own person.”
They stared at him baffled. “You’re so dumb sometimes, dude,” Ewen remarked.
The moment Damian’s tent was completed the teacher supervising the trip clapped loudly in an attempt to garner attention. “Alright, gather round. It’s time for the fun part of your trip: education.” A chorus of boos resounded the campsite as their teacher called them to the center of the grounds. “Not my choice. Find the paper with your name and pass the pile along.”
Opposite the rest of his classmates, Damian preferred an assignment to distract his mind from wandering toward Anya. The worksheet listed several landmarks in the area and he frowned. He’d been tricked. This wasn’t homework, it was a map.
“You’ll be working with a partner to hike along your chosen path, marking off the locations as you find them.” Their teacher explained. It sounded incredibly flawed. What was stopping him from marking everything off and just sleeping in his tent?
“Do you think they’ll let us be a group of three?” Ewen asked eagerly.
He hoped not. There’s no way he could fake hike with Ewen and Emile dragging him around. “Maybe.”
“Our maps are all different,” Emile said, holding his sheet forward. And he was right. Each assignment had a different trail listed at the top corner.
“The school’s given me a list of assigned partners that we-” Their teacher got cut off by shouts of complaints but he angrily continued. “-we have to follow. Once I read your name, find your partner and leave. Be back before sundown.”
Damian had a bad sense of deja vu. Being forced to partner with Anya for a school field trip. He was on edge thinking about being alone with her for several hours, urged to talk about emotions he’d been shoving aside. He had no confidence he wouldn’t do something he’d regret.
“Desmond.” His head shot up. Heart racing nervously for the dooming ‘Forger’ to follow. “And Blackbell.”
Oh, that was so much worse.
“What!?” He and Blackbell shouted in unison. Ewen and Emile burst into laughter, joined by the snickers of the class. He thought he noticed even Anya covering her mouth to hide a smile.
“I’m not going,” Blackbell said defiantly. “I’d rather roll in the dirt than partner with Desmond.”
He smirked. “You don’t have to get all dressed up for the hike.”
A small snort sounded and Blackbell gasped offended, “Anya.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Damian chastised himself for the strike of pride he felt at making Anya laugh. An old habit he hadn’t gotten rid of just yet.
With an exaggerated huff, Blackbell stomped over and clutched his sweatshirt sleeve. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Don’t touch me.”
After an aggressive debate over which path was their assigned trail-neither realizing there was a map at the entrance of their campgrounds-they finally got started. Damian’s attention flickered between his worksheet and the forest floor. Careful not to step on any spot that closely resembled mud. He would like to not bring this back to his tent or dorm or anywhere.
It took a moment too long to realize Blackbell was no longer walking beside him. He whipped his head around and spotted her lying flat on a wooden bench several yards back. She looked ready to sleep.
“What are you doing? We haven’t even made it to the first checkmark.”
“We both know we don’t have to do this stupid hike.”
Damian looked to the side feigning ignorance. “What do you mean?”
She gestured for him to hand over their worksheets, proceeding to cross off every objective they had. “We did it! And at a world record pace.” She tossed the papers aside lazily, his eyes tracked them annoyed as they drifted onto his shoes.
“What if we get in trouble?”
“We both know the teacher’s too lazy to look for us. He wants to be here as much as we do.” She rolled her head to look at him. “We just have to wait a bit.”
“How long is a bit?”
“However long a hike takes.”
“How long is that?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never hiked before. I assumed you had.” She raised a brow when he shook his head. “But you’re all athletic and enjoy exercise.”
“Fun exercise. Hiking is just avoiding mud, looking at identical trees, and being alone with your thoughts.” Damian preferred to do none of those things.
“Then what’d you sign up for?” She asked disinterestedly, but her eyes taunted him. Blackbell knew exactly what he signed up for-who he signed up for.
He nudged her head in a gesture for her to give him space, surprised when she sat up without a fight. “If you already know, why bother asking?”
“It’s fun when you admit you’re stupid.” She gave him a once-over when he was seated. “So what’s your issue lately?”
“No issues.”
“Save your lies for Tweedledee and Tweedledum,” she said with an eye roll. “Something happened because my romantic-ski-weekend scheme was going perfectly until you confessed your undying love for Anya. Then she got all depressed and you ‘got sick’ and went home early.”
“I didn’t confess anything.” Damian sneered. “I maybe accidentally said some stuff that implied some not normal feelings, but I didn’t mean it.”
“Oh, so you’re not in love with Anya?” Blackbell said, daring him to argue with her.
“I… don’t think that’s relevant.”
“You’re so full of shit.”
“Why don’t you ask Anya what her issue is?” Damian scoffed. “I’m sure she could explain it better.”
“So she turned you down?”
Damian looked at her baffled. “What? No.”
“You turned her down?”
“No. There wasn’t anything to turn-”
“Then why are you two moping around like you broke up?” Blackbell threw her arms up. “Anya wouldn’t let me yell at you, so I thought she did something after you’re not-confession. Did you panic and take it back?”
“Why do you care?”
“I didn’t watch eleven seasons of this just for you to end up single, Desmond.” She clapped his shoulder near threateningly. “So how about you tell me what happened so we can get this show back on the road.”
Eleven seasons, what was she talking about? “You’re crazy.”
“I’m committed to a cause,” she waved her hands, urging him to keep talking. “Spill it loverboy. What’s going on in that thick skull?”
He regarded her warily. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst decision to air his dilemma out loud. And Blackbell knew Anya almost as well as he did. He could get some useful insight out of it.
…screw it. Things couldn’t possibly get any worse.
“Anya’s been lying to me.”
“About?”
“When we were younger Anya pretended to care about me to get closer to my family.”
Blackbell looked at him expectantly. “And?”
“What do you mean ‘and’? That’s a big lie.”
“Well, she didn’t try very hard,” Blackbell stated. “She did a terrible job at sucking up to you. Half the time she talked to you it was borderline insults.”
That… was true. If there was one thing Damian had gotten good at it was recognizing when people were using him. Picking up on when they were looking right through him to his connections or had an end goal to a conversation. It had been happening since he could walk. But he’d never felt that with Anya.
It was easier for him not to delve into why.
“She probably just sucked at it.”
“I don’t think Anya even understood what political status really meant until our third year. By then she kind of hated your family.” Blackbell looked over exhaustedly. “Never shut up about you though.”
Damian eyed her skeptically. “That doesn’t add up to Anya’s story.”
“I’m just relaying the facts,” Blackbell shrugged. “And that was when we were kids. Obviously, she cares now.”
“It was all fake though. I thought she cared about me, but she didn’t.”
“I think you're placing meaning where it doesn’t need to be.” Blackbell poked him in the cheek. “I think little Syon-boy confessed his love, got scared, and needed the first excuse to get out of it.”
Damian blinked. “What?”
“Put those two brain cells to work, Desmond.” She clapped her hands. “Anya made a mistake. You’re justified in being upset, sure, but is it really worth cutting her out completely or is that just easier for you?”
Damian’s eyebrows rose. Easier?
“I think we both know the answer, so I’m not going to waste my life lecturing you.” Blackbell stood stretching her arms above her head. “But if you’re going to be an idiot. Just do it. Anya doesn’t deserve to be strung along like this.”
Damian focused his attention on his feet. That much he knew.
“Let’s go back to camp, you’ve exhausted my social meter.” Blackbell declared as she began the short trek toward the camping grounds.
Damian followed her down the trail. “Has it been long enough?”
“Who cares? I’m over waiting.” Blackbell shot a smirk over her shoulder. “Blame it on me if we’re early.”
He strayed behind her as they walked slowly back to camp. A new barrage of worries attacked his mind.
***
The students who eagerly awaited this field trip gathered amidst picnic tables, divvying up snack supplies amongst other classmates for campfire activities. To his dismay, after the disgusting burnt hotdog dinner, they’d tried feeding him they were attempting to force overcooked marshmallows down his throat next. Damian rested his chin heavily in his palm while using a random branch to poke at the fire Ewen and Emile had struggled to set up. He shoved logs around to adjust smoke from his face, but mostly to pretend he was busy.
Blackbell’s gossip hour turned therapy session had him borderline mental breakdown since they’d returned from their mock hike assignment. He’d been doing his best to keep distracted, focusing on conversations with friends and attempting to participate in whatever they dragged him to, but as the sun disappeared so did his strength to keep unwanted thoughts down.
Damian knew he wasn’t special. Without the Desmond name, he was nobody at all. You could turn him on all sides, analyze him for days and come to the same conclusion that he was nothing. He’d always yearned to be loved for how average he was, that someone would choose him not despite it but because of it. Give him the sense of irreplaceability he’d never had.
Then Anya appeared. The most extraordinary person anyone could come across. The only person who’d truly known him, made him feel seen. And he loved her. He had loved her since before he even knew what love was. From the moment she punched him in the face like he was some no-name brat whose opinion meant nothing to her.
But he hated that too. Deep down a part of him never liked the way he loved her. It felt too desperate to crave something he’d never had before. Too awkward fumbling around an emotion he’d never been taught. Like any love she could feel for him would be wrong and undeserving. And if she left he wouldn’t know what to do.
So maybe Blackbell was right, maybe pushing her away like this was easier.
“Are you okay, man?” Ewen asked hesitantly, waving a hand in his face. Damian blinked back to reality. “You’ve been acting weird all night.”
“It was Blackbell wasn’t it? She did something evil I bet.” Emile narrowed his eyes suspiciously toward a nearby fire pit.
“I’m fine.” Damian followed Emile’s stare, stomach dropping when they landed on Anya.
His eyes scanned her face as they always did, closely, studying the details like the straight-A student he was. Her thin pink brows, the spark in her viridian eyes, the upward tilt of her lips. Her lips spread wide now as she smiled at some story their classmate told across the fire that flickered its orange hues, illuminating her ivory skin. It made her look warm, softer than usual.
Anya blinked, seemingly confused before her eyes glanced in his direction. He snapped his stare back toward the lit logs, quickly poking at them faster. Maybe she hadn’t noticed. He side-eyed her and she was staring intensely.
She had.
“Alright, kids, let’s put out the fires.” Their teacher walked around the campsite tossing out a few water bottles to groups. Damian barely caught his. “It’s almost curfew and I don’t feel like staying up to babysit.”
The majority of the class was groaning out complaints about the early curfew, the sun having barely set a few hours ago, but Damian could feel Anya’s eyes burning holes into his back so he couldn’t wait to get out of there. He dumped the contents of the bottle over the fire, kicking dirt over the remains like he saw others doing in his peripheral.
“This sucks,” Emile groaned, walking sluggishly toward his tent. “What are we, toddlers? We didn’t even get to make s’mores.”
Damian shrugged. “Who cares? Faster I fall asleep the faster I can get this weekend over with.”
“Teach just wants an excuse to fall asleep. He doesn’t want to be responsible for everyone doing stupid stuff tonight,” Ewen said with a shake of his head.
“What are you talking about?”
“Half the class is sneaking out,” Ewen pointed to some trail across the site. “I guess there’s some haunted clearing toward the middle of that trail. You have to go off path a little bit-”
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re not coming?” Emile asked disappointed.
“Are you crazy? I’m not risking my perfect merit to walk in the woods at night.”
They booed after him as he ducked into his tent. Damian felt no regret as he searched for the least rock-ridden place to unroll his sleeping bag. Even though he wanted to sleep the weekend away, Damian would not be sleeping. Not with all the new information to torture himself with.
Damian had no clue what to do with his life. The only thing he was certain of? He would never take a mattress for granted again.
He didn’t hear anyone approach his tent, only the unzipping of the door that told him a guest was welcoming themselves inside. Damian jumped across the small space at the noise, scooting further when Anya’s head poked through the entrance. She’d brought a small flashlight with her, shining it directly on his face.
“Oh good, you’re here.”
“Turn that off. It’s not even dark out,” he said, shielding his eyes. The moon provided more than enough visibility without the city’s lights polluting the sky. Anya pouted, flicking the light off and tossing it inside his tent like she was about to get comfortable.
“I was hoping you’d chicken out on the midnight hike.” Anya zipped herself inside the tent. She must have gotten cold because she was now bundled in sweats that were a few sizes too large.
“I didn’t chicken out. It sounded like a stupid-what are you even doing here?” He asked.
“We need to talk.”
That was the last thing he wanted to do. “No way. What if someone hears us?”
“Everyone’s leaving the campsite.”
“Everyone?” He asked skeptically. She nodded. “Well, what if the teacher does a tent check or something?”
“I read his mind. He fully intends on ignoring everyone’s stupid antics all weekend.”
“I don’t know. Can’t we just wait til tomorrow?”
“You won’t talk to me tomorrow.”
She’s right. He won’t. “Fine. Just hurry, okay? I don’t want my first Tonitrus Bolt over this.”
Suddenly, her eyes were bright with anger. “Over me?”
“Huh? I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t say anything, Damian. That’s the problem.” Anya’s disbelieving scoff sent a chill up his spine. “You told me things were going to be fine. You promised you wouldn’t overthink.”
“I just need-”
“Time? Is three months not enough time? Because I’ve been giving you plenty of space to ‘process’ and you still won’t look me in the eyes. So if you’re planning on never talking to me again or you hate me now, just say it because that would be way easier than dealing with-”
“I don’t hate you.” Damian interrupted her, frustrated. “Anya, I can’t hate you. Don’t you get it? That’s the problem.”
She blew out an annoyed breath. “Then why won’t you just talk to me?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It could be. If you would just listen to what I-”
“It can’t be that easy.” Damian dragged a hand through his hair. “Everything’s all fucked now. It’s like every memory I have is wrong and fake and I don’t know how to deal with it.”
“Nothing was fake, Damian. That’s the most ridiculous-”
“You never wanted me. You never enjoyed being with me. It just eventually became a habit until we were friends.” He finally spits out his most dangerous thought. The worst fear. “It’s bull shit, Anya. This whole thing is bull shit.”
She held his gaze, both too stubborn to break eye contact. The wind rose, whistling eerily through the branches hanging high above his tent. Even with the wind the silence growing between them was deafening. He wondered if that was it. If he’d won.
If so, victory tasted disgusting.
“You know what’s bull shit?” she asked, eerily calm. “Whatever the hell this is,” she said, gesturing at all of him. “And you know what else? I don’t regret that mission, Damian. Not for a second.”
His eyebrows shot to his hairline. “Why would you-”
“If it didn’t exist I wouldn’t have gone to Eden Academy. I wouldn’t have met you. I wouldn’t have spent years trying to decipher your thoughts. I wouldn’t have enjoyed annoying you or seeing you smile or making you laugh. I wouldn’t have met my best friend.” She took a deep breath before saying, “and I wouldn’t have fallen in love.”
Damian’s breath hitched. Their locked stare finally broke when she tightened her eyelids, her fists clenching. His brain must be playing tricks on him. He wanted to chastise his heart for its uncontrollable rhythm, pounding too loudly in his ear and making it difficult to focus.
“And you might not trust me anymore but that’s fine. I don’t care.” Her eyes sparked with determination when she met him again. “I don’t need you to love me back. I just don’t want you to act like everything we’ve done together was fake because you’re not an idiot. And that’s what’s bullshit.”
“Anya-”
“No. Shut up.” She sneered at him and he shrunk into his shoulders. “You’re my best friend. I trust you with my life and I love you so much it hurts. I don’t want to keep trying to picture a future where you’re not there because that future sucks. So just stop being a moron and talk to me again or I swear I’m going to-”
He reached for her hand. She paused abruptly, eyes turning to a mix of fear and hope.
She was right about one thing. Damian was a moron.
“I love you.”
Another silence befell the small space. Her eyes roamed his face, searching for hints of a lie he knew she wouldn’t find. For the first time since he discovered her secret, he didn’t care if she decided to peek into his mind.
“Anya, I…” He looked at their hands, hers felt so delicate in his although she was the strongest person he knew-inside and out. He gave it a squeeze. “I don’t even remember what it feels like to not be in love with you.”
She dropped to her knees, relief flooding her body. “Seriously?”
He nodded.
“You’re sure?”
“That’s the only thing I’ve ever been sure of.” When he finally looked up his heart filled with panic as her eyes began welling up. “Are you going to cry?”
“No,” she said, covering her face with her hands. Damian scooted closer. He’d obviously never confessed to someone before but he felt confident crying was a bad reaction.
“I’m so sorry, Anya.” He cupped her cheeks, rubbing his thumbs to wipe the trails slowly being left. “I overreacted and I should’ve talked to you because I can’t picture life without you either. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me so please forgive me, I didn’t mean to-”
“Shut up. They’re happy tears and you’re making them worse.” She sniffled, wiping at them furiously. She smiled up at him with an overwhelming fondness that enveloped his heart. It filled him with that warmth he’d been desperately craving. Nobody had ever looked at him like that, like they loved him.
She lightly pressed her forehead against his. Amongst the thousands of thoughts wrestling for attention one screamed the loudest.
Holy shit, he wanted to kiss her. Without the worry of interruption. No fear of it destroying their friendship or crossing any unspoken lines. Just finally lean down and kiss her. Now would be a good time right? Probably. His eyes were targeted at her lips as he debated any movement.
“Kiss me,” she whispered. Her eyes were watching impatiently. “Please.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. Damian kissed her. Gently. Because he still wasn’t convinced that when he pulled away this whole night wouldn’t have been a figment of his imagination. Drawn up by his desperation to be wanted. That the pressure of her soft lips against his and the hesitant grip against the front of his sweatshirt wouldn’t disappear at any second. That the smell of campfire smoke still lingering on her clothes wasn’t just a dream, taunting him with how she smiled against his lips when he pulled her closer.
Whenever Damian stole peanuts from Anya he would get the embarrassing thoughts that those might be similar to what kissing her would taste like. Turns out it was. He realized peanuts might be his favorite snack now too.
He gave her a final squeeze before preparing himself for her to vanish, but when he opened his eyes she was there, out of breath and flushed. Her green eyes looked back with a newfound shyness he was beginning to enjoy. Her warm breaths fanned across his lips and he really wanted to kiss her again.
“I love you so much,” she whispered before nuzzling her nose against his. It broke him out of his kissing-obsessed stupor.
He opened his mouth, throat struggling. There were so many words fighting to get to her. Eleven years worth of emotions battling for control, years of feelings that she deserved to hear. After what felt like a century he choked out, “Anya, I really suck.”
She looked taken aback. When she began a counterargument he covered her mouth, he needed her to listen. “I’m not great at this expressing emotions stuff. And I’ll probably panic again,” he confessed. “But I’m going to get better. Because you deserve better and I… I want to be that. For you.”
Anya looked at him wide-eyed before they started to gloss over and he cupped her cheeks again. “Wait, don’t-”
She launched forward, wrapping her arms around his midsection and knocking him on his back. He landed roughly on the ground, thankful he’d laid out his sleeping bag somewhat before she’d forced her way in since his head didn’t hit solid ground. Anya sniffled against his chest and he immediately put a hand on her head.
“Please, stop crying,” Damian stressed.
“Then stop saying things like that,” she accused. “How can you say you’re bad at emotions than say something like that?” He stared at the mesh ceiling puzzled. What did he say? “You’re such an idiot.”
“Am I an idiot or did I do something good? You can’t flip-flop.” Damian pouted.
“Both,” she said, smiling up at him. “You’re amazing, Damian. I don’t want you to be anyone but yourself. I love you the way you are.”
He studied her carefully before shoving her head back on his chest. Damian had never experienced happy tears before but that night had been enough firsts for him-he had no interest in tacking happy crying in front of Anya to the list. She needed to stop talking before things headed in that direction.
He lazily ran his fingers through her hair and despite the rocks digging into Damian’s back he had never felt more comfortable in his life. He peeked an eye open when he felt Anya rummaging around for a blanket still shoved in his duffle bag. He should have been more concerned that he didn’t say anything when she covered them both and curled back up against him.
After he began nodding off was when Damian finally spoke up.
“You should probably leave,” he mumbled out, contradictingly tightening his arms around her, pulling her closer. He felt her tired giggle reverberate through his chest.
“Yeah, probably.”
She didn’t move. He didn’t make her.
The branch's tunes lulled him to sleep.
***
“Rise and shine, Loverboy. We don’t have all day.”
Damian jolted at a sharp jab to his cheek. His eyes drifted open as he slowly came to consciousness.
The sun had barely risen, peach hues struggling to light up the small space. Just enough for him to make out Blackbell crouched above with an annoyed look. Damian rubbed his eyes, hoping that removing the fog in his brain would rid the horror before him, as well.
It did not.
“What are you doing in my room?”
“Tent,” she corrected as if that made her presence less weird. “And I’m trying to collect Sleeping Beauty before the whole camp wakes up and an Eden Academy scandal breaks loose.”
He furrowed his brow, puzzled until there was shuffling in his peripheral vision. Anya was cuddled against his arm with her closed eyes barely seen above the blanket’s edge. His heart beat thunderously against his rib cage as the previous night’s events replayed in his mind. They confessed to each other. She knew how he felt and she was still here.
Anya actually loved him.
“Am I dreaming?” He asked Blackbell.
“Not this time, Romeo.”
Holy shit.
“You can make heart eyes at her later, Desmond.” Blackbell leaned over him and began pinching Anya’s cheek “I promised Anya I’d cover for her, but there’s no good excuse I can think of for why she’d be coming out of your tent in a few hours.”
Damian blinked. He could already picture the rumors their classmates would spread the moment they saw Anya’s bedhead leaving his designated one-person tent. How fast they would get around Eden Academy. And although the idea of his father being humiliated while speaking with professors, soon lecturing him about the disgrace he’d brought upon the Desmond name seemed a bit appealing, he wasn’t rebellious enough for it. Deep down he still hated disappointing his parents. At least when it could be easily avoided.
He glanced at Anya who pulled subconsciously on the blanket Blackbell was trying to tug off her. She had to go. He sat up, raising a brow in thought.
Damian placed his hands on Anya’s cheeks, hearing a small gasp from Blackbell before he smushed Anya’s cheeks around annoyingly. She groaned and started swatting at him.
“You’re not romantic at all,” Blackbell complained.
He blinked. “Huh?”
“Get off,” Anya whined, kicking him off. She rolled onto her side while he held his stomach in pain.
“What was that?” He asked in shock.
“She’s a heavy sleeper.”
“She’s mean.” Nothing like his dreams. “Anya, get out of my tent.”
“Don’t wanna,” she mumbled, pulling the blanket above her head.
“Too bad. We’re going to actually get in trouble this time.”
“You didn’t care last night,” her voice came muffled through the blanket. Blackbell shot him a devious look.
“That’s different,” he said, his face flushing a deep crimson. “I was half-asleep and you were saying weird things. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Anya peeked up at him. “Me loving you is weird now?”
Blackbell squeaked, which didn’t help as Damian fumbled for his words. “That’s not what I mean. It’s great. I just mean that I realized I don’t want to get in trouble. But I don’t take back anything else because that was all very-”
Anya stuck a hand out to cup his cheek. He locked eyes with hers. Viridian stared back calm and understanding, any stress washed away entirely as a small smile danced on her lips. “I get it,” she whispered. Then with exaggerated movements, she pushed herself up, turning to Blackbell and asking, “carry me?”
“No chance.”
“Wait,” Anya paused, once one socked foot was out of the tent. She regarded him almost concerningly. “We’ll talk later?”
“Of course.”
She sent a smile of relief.
“Let’s go,” Blackbell tugged her arm. “The sun’s almost up.”
The butterflies that had been loose in his stomach since Anya’d first entered his tent didn’t calm until his door was completely sealed. He let out a deep breath, finally allowing himself to relax. Although his body begged him to sleep for a few more hours, his mind had other plans. Too giddy to have been rid of the negative thoughts he’d been forcing upon it for months.
It raced with the memories of several hours prior. Of words he’d never believed could be spoken to him and how they sounded in the voice of someone he’d loved for so long. He probably had the exact moment burned into his memory from how many times he replayed it. And every time he thought about kissing her a dopey smile popped up, hoping he’d be allowed to do it more.
For the first time in a long time, Damian felt good. There wasn’t a weight on his chest crushing his lungs and making it impossible to breathe. He felt hopeful.
Eventually, there was enough commotion outside that he felt comfortable leaving the confines of his awkwardly warm space and joining whoever was awake. ‘Hopefully, Anya’ his brain conjured unwillingly the moment he exited his tent.
“Dude, why do you look so happy?” Ewen and Emile managed to find him mere seconds after he emerged.
He couldn’t explain his sleepover with Anya, so he simply shrugged it off. “Slept good, I guess.”
“In the tent? On the ground?” Emile questioned skeptically.
“Better than I thought it’d be.” His eyes swept the campgrounds for nothing in particular. “How was the haunted hike?”
“Shitty. I wish I would’ve stayed back,” Emile grumbled. “We got lost for hours.”
“Anya really hyped it up, then she backed out last second,” Ewen complained.
“I think she made the whole thing up to prank everyone.”
His eyebrow quirked. There’s no way Anya tricked the whole class into going on a fake hike just so they could have some privacy. He smirked, “yeah, sounds like something she’d do.”
“What are you smiling about?” Ewen asked.
“I’m not smiling.” He was.
“You are. You’re smiling.” Ewen pointed an accusatory finger at Damian’s face.
“I’m literally not.” He literally was.
“Now that I think about it. Where was Anya last night?” Emile tapped his chin. “There’s no way she went to bed.”
He wanted to scream that she had been with him. Rub it in everyone’s face that Anya snuck into his tent to tell him she was in love with him and then he kissed her. Instead, he shrugged, “I don’t know. I’m not her keeper.”
Ewen and Emile looked at each other, then looked back at him as if they didn’t believe his clear lie. “You didn’t see her at all last night?”
“Nope.”
“Not once?” Ewen asked. Damian shook his head. “You’re not lying?”
“When have I ever lied to-” Damian was interrupted by a force tackling his back, whoever it was wrapping their arms around his midsection.
“Good morning!” Anya said, poking her head around his side. Damian glanced down at her then at his friends. He gave an innocent smile.
“Hey, Anya. Damian was just telling us how he didn’t see or talk to you at all last night.”
She tilted her head, mulling that information over. “Yeah, can’t say I remember seeing him either. He went to bed pretty early.”
Their jaws went slack. “Wha-but you were both-and now you’re all-that doesn’t make any-”
“We made up.” Damian put it simply. His whole body froze when Anya grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. Publicly. For just anyone to see.
“Yeah, we’re dating now.”
“You are!?”
“We are!?” Damian added.
She blinked. “We aren’t?”
“We didn’t clarify that.”
“I just assumed that was the next step.” Anya looked up thoughtfully. “I actually think people usually go on dates before kissing and falling in love, so we skipped a few steps.”
“You guys kissed?” Emile’s eyebrows shot up, a smirk forming.
“Anya, hush.” Damian waved for her to keep it down as a few people looked in their direction.
“Hush what? What’s wrong with kissing?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it it’s just-” Damian groaned, running a hand down his face. “Look, I just wasn’t sure you’d want to date.”
Anya cocked her head to the side confused. “I’m in love with you, Damian. Obviously, I want to date you.”
Damian furrowed his brow. Even if she loved him at that moment Anya may not fully understand what dating him meant. She would eventually have to go to the networking and fundraiser events his family dragged him to and old rich people may be assholes to her, even if she’s with him. Obviously, he wouldn’t stand for it but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t happen. And the whole political environment is awful in general, honestly dragging her into it might be cruel of him. He should probably explain it all to her before she agrees to any-
“Hey,” Anya snapped him out of his thoughts with a light pinch to his cheek. “Don’t overthink this time. I’m not going anywhere.”
His eyes roamed hers, filled with that same fondness from last night. He nodded. “Okay.”
Her smile turned soft and he was consumed by that overwhelming feeling of affection again. Of truly being loved. It was almost painful how intense the warmth in his chest had become.
“Anya!” Blackbell called from a fire pit across the campsite. “Flirt with Desmond later. I want breakfast.”
“Coming!” She gave his hand a small squeeze. “Are you eating?”
He looked in distaste at the breakfast spread laid out for them. What looked to be materials for them to make pancakes were placed on various picnic tables with some cooking ware beside them. “No.”
“Did you eat dinner?”
He continued avoiding her eyes. “Yes.”
She gave him that look. “I’m making extra.”
“I won’t eat it.”
Her gaze sharpened before she wandered off toward Blackbell to begin cooking them both breakfast. Blackbell rested her head exhaustively against Anya’s back as she prepared the batter and Damian wanted to be annoyed at her for stealing Anya’s attention, but he owed the girl for saving his perfect school record.
“Well, congratulations dude.” Ewen clapped his shoulder.
“Took you long enough,” Emile added.
Anya’s soft smile focused intently on leveling a pan over the flames, his heart skipped. He knew he would end up choking down a few semi-burnt pancakes if Anya cooked them. “Yeah.”
A smile took over his face as he watched her. He felt peaceful, content. Like things might actually be okay.
Anya’s eyes slid in his direction, a soft smile spread on her lips when she saw him looking. He mirrored her look and gave a lame little wave. At her small giggle, he realized for the first time in his life he felt legitimately happy.
Damian finally felt loved.