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"Last night Bond showed me an image of him playing with Max. When do you think—"
'—sure they're actually going out?'
Not for the first time, Anya finds herself wishing that her parents would just allow her to pack peanuts for lunch if they won't permit her to use the kitchen. (After all, her record for setting pots and pans on fire may as well be zero when compared to how her mother often does.)
Of all days for both Papa and Mama to be called early for their missions and thus unable to cook her lunch, it had to be today. Valentine's Day meant more people being irrationally bothered with the fact that, yes, among all the elegant and eligible girls in Eden Academy, it is Anya Forger who gets to date Damian Desmond.
'Look! She's just talking to herself.' Against her better judgment, Anya steals a glance just in time to see the passing girl nudge her friend. She gets a knowing smirk back, 'I know. He doesn't even bother to stop reading that book and reply to her.'
Anya feels her face warm with embarrassment. No—she musn't mind them! But the cafeteria is big and the voices in their heads were loud and—what was she saying again?
Anya pretends to busy herself with cutting the steak on her plate. She mumbles, "Um, anyways, Becky told me that—"
'—my voice. You can do it, Anya. Focus on mine.'
Anya looks up to meet Damian's determined gaze across the table. Aloud, he says, "We can't go back to class yet. You'll feel sleepy later if you don't finish your lunch."
Silently, he continues, 'Don't listen to them. They don't know anything.'
The sincerity in his eyes just makes the turmoil in her heart greater for some reason. "But they're so loud."
His eyes share the same pained look for a second. "Yes, they are." Then he supplies, the confidence of a Desmond resonating in his tone, "But you're Anya Forger."
The words easily conjurs a memory from her mind. She repeats them to herself, like a protective mantra. "I'm Anya Forger, daughter of Loid and Yor Forger. My Papa and Mama are crazy strong, so I must be, too."
She shakes her head, feeling her spirit return. She beams at her boyfriend, hoping her smile can convey just how grateful she is, "Thank you."
While it doesn't really hide how flushed he is from her gesture, Damian still lifts the book to block his reddening cheeks.
Needless to say, the incoherent string of 'she's really pretty, aaaah stop thinking about it, don't think about it' is enough to drown out everything else.