Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Today was a commemorative day for the Desmonds as Damian, the second son, won his eighth Stella, thus becoming an Imperial Scholar. As this was the son of one of the most important politicians in the country, a ceremony was held at Eden Academy with all the invited students and the family of the person being commemorated. Attendance was mandatory, therefore, it was forbidden to miss the celebration, and also to leave the Great Hall, the place where the ceremony would take place, until its culmination, unless it was for something urgent and very necessary. The classes had already finished and everyone lined up one after the other to go to where the ceremony would take place, except for the aforementioned who left before so that he could be prepared.

There were many teenagers holding back their desire to approach him and congratulate him in person: Damian Desmond is one of the most inspiring and attractive boys in the academy so both boys and girls were excited and eager to be closer to him. Still, there are others who resent or envy him, and then there are those who don't care about this situation and are preoccupied with other things; among them a curious pubescent girl pretending to be a teenager who didn't feel like attending.

“I don't know whether to go. There will be a lot of people,” a worried Anya starts whispering to her best friend who was standing in front of her. There was a huge possibility that she would get a very bad headache and she wanted to avoid it at all costs.

“Don't worry, Anya. If anything happens to you, I'm here,” Becky responds, equally whispering. “Also, we can't miss it, they might catch our attention, or worse, get a Tonitrus.”

For a moment, as they continued walking, she kept thinking of an idea to avoid being at the ceremony. On the outside one could see her as a normal, thoughtful girl with things on her mind, but inside she was so desperate that she even imagined really extreme and very out of place situations such as a meteorite falling on the academy or announcing the end of the world; all with the purpose of not having the ceremony. At that moment, something that Professor Henderson had indicated to them before leaving the classroom came to his mind; a more effective and realistic idea.

"But if I'm in poor health, maybe I'll have the opportunity," the girl continues, remembering that there was the possibility of withdrawing or missing out.

“Yes, but you're feeling fine right now and you're not a very good actress either, my friend.”

“Ouch!," she made a surprised face and touched her chest with both hands, thus creating a little drama at which Becky snickered. “That hurt me,” it wasn't a lie; her comment had hit his pride hard, but Forger knew Blackbell was right.

The students continued walking in line towards where the ceremony would be. The pink-haired girl's anxiety grew a little more. How many are there in total? It just can't be. There will be about a thousand people here. I don't think I can handle being in a place with a thousand people thinking a lot of things. My head won't take it. What should I do? “What should I do?! were some of the questions that ran through her head. Her nerves were increasing and even though Becky was in front of her trying to surreptitiously hold her hand and tell her that everything would be okay, it didn't help her enough. And she would have continued immersed in her thoughts if it weren't for Professor Henderson, with a loud and elegant voice, mentioning to the students that they had already arrived at the Great Hall.

This one was really huge. Anya was stunned when she entered. Of course this would be very different from receiving Stellas, especially if you come from a very important family for the country, the girl thought. She had more opinions about the room, but the thoughts of others also came with her, so she took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, telling herself to calm down so as not to make a fuss. Since most people, especially girls, wanted to see Damian Desmond as close as possible, they took the first seats. Those who were most disinterested in him were placed at the back. Forger internally thanked her best friend for saving a seat at the back for the two of them. They both went to the table and a waiter came to serve them, asking what they wanted to drink, to which Becky asked for two glasses of water.

Anya was still worried. Of course, the severity of her power depended on her, because by herself she can decide when to read someone's mind, there were even moments where she managed to do it and copied (now she doesn't do that anymore, copy) some of her classmates in the exams, and by that she meant Syon-boy; however, she can't stay in her "mental silence", as she usually calls it, 100% and she wants to avoid that at some point her power would get out of control. She trained hard to manage in a more continue rolled (but not absolute) way that mental silence and had to go through several headaches. She got to the point where she can perfectly handle a classroom and quiet and spacious places like parks or museums, but in crowded places like theaters she still prefers to stay in remote places, that's why her papa, as she still used to call him, always gets seats on the second floor, which are a bit more expensive, but it's all so she can feel safer and enjoy herself, just like what Becky just did.

Meanwhile, everyone began to fall silent. The doors open and Damian enters to the front where the supervisors, some teachers and the principal who would give him his Imperial Scholar cape were waiting for him. Surprisingly his brother was accompanying him, something that no one thought would happen; while he was slyly looking from one side to the other, as if he was looking for someone. The director gives him a few words of encouragement, pride and thanks, and awards him the cape, congratulating him. Everyone applauds and continues inside the room chatting or approaching Damien to congratulate him, but not before passing by Ewen and Emile who seemed to be his bodyguards. Becky sees that Anya has already finished her glass and calls the waiter to bring her another one. Suddenly, with some difficulty and a lot of dissimulation, she saw that, from above, Damian made a signal, so she knew she had to go to him.

“Anya,” the brown-haired girl turns to look at her friend who was staring blankly at her glass. She touches her shoulder to get her attention. “I have to go talk to Damian about something important. Stay here and don't move;” she was about to leave until he felt something holding her shirt.

“Can't I really come with you?” asked her best friend, who had a worried look on her face.

“It's just that it's confidential and there are more people where he is,” she shows the enormous number of people who were close to the boy. “You need to be here, there are few people in this area,” she answers, gently holding her shoulders and giving her a confident and comforting look afterwards. "I won't be long, my friend." With that said, she retreats to where she said she would go.

Anya knew very well that Becky wasn't lying to her, after all, she's the most honest person she's ever met. However, she wanted to know what was going on. Becky talking to Damian? How strange. They both don't like each other, no matter how alike they are , she kept thinking. Clearly she hadn't told him everything and curiosity was invading his being.

At this point about five minutes had already passed (although for Anya it was an eternity) and Blackbell still had not appeared, even the waiter had already brought her two more glasses of water because when she found him she asked for it and there was just one on the tray he was carrying. The crowd of people (girls) in front of Damian was immense, it seemed like it would take longer than expected. If she was going to be alone for, apparently, a long time, then she would have to distract herself somehow. She thought and thought, but she came up with nothing and there was only one almost empty glass and another full of water in front of her, with which she played for a little while and she got bored too quickly because it was very childish to play like that. So she, already being a little fed up, made a decision.

Maybe she was out of her mind. Maybe she would risk her well-being, she would not end up proud of her idea and the headache she was already having from so much anxiety (unbelievably not from reading minds) would increase, but curiosity was getting the better of her, so knowing the real reason became an ultra necessary case. So she took a deep breath, drank some water and, keeping in mind that there was a high probability that she would regret what she was going to do, she concentrated on reading Blackbell's mind.

“Anya is really stubborn, but there is still a chance for him and I to convince her to go to his party.”

So that was it. She already had suspicions because of all those strange attempts she has experienced in the last two weeks, but it never occurred to her that those two who get along so badly would make an alliance for that.

“The giant peanut-flavored cake didn't work, nor did his idea of ​​adding a spy-themed event, inviting her family, and extravagantly asking her to be my companion, much less so. No plan that involves her favorite things works.”

"I need a crazy plan to get her to my party."

Oh, that's Damian . He thought about leaving it there, but curiosity killed the cat a thousand and one times.

“Wait, why am I thinking about her when I should be happy to earn my eight Stellas? Focus Damian. You are already an Imperial Scholar. Father will be very proud. He's finally going to recognize me."

"I want to go home. How long until it's over?”

“Cramping now? Oh no."

"Where is she? I can't find her anywhere."

The pink-haired girl started to get scared. Everyone's thoughts began to accumulate little by little, she was not going to be able to stop in time. She began to use covert force to stop him as soon as possible. She didn't want to make a fuss.

"Your highness Damian looks very handsome in his cape."

"She's the only one who looks very different from the others. She should be easy to find."

"Damián looks very handsome today. I wish he was my partner."

"But I want her to go, I want to dance with her, I want to be with her, I want to... why did she turn down the invitation?"

Control was slipping from her hands little by little. She felt increasingly frightened and anxious. This was what she feared would happen. She wanted to stop, but she couldn't. Her strength seemed to cease and she felt that at any moment she could faint, although mentally she would not allow it. So just a little more... more...

"What if I told her we were going shopping and unexpectedly ended up at the party?"

"You got the Stellas in a very elegant way, young Desmond."

"I hate him, but I have to get together with him because my dad insists on it."

"I need to go to my dorm, I want to change my clothes."

Wait, she's not the girl? That hair is peculiar. Yes, she is. "She is far from the rest."

“That commoner again. Damn. Today is my big day. I must think that Father will now be by my side, because now that I am an Imperial Scholar, I am someone important to him, right?”

"I'm going to marry him. I'm going to be the future Mrs. Desmond."

"I'm hungry. Will there be more snacks?”

"I must take this moment to make things right with my girlfriend."

"It's not going to work. I'm out of ideas and the other guy is distracted."

"Who am I lying to? Father will not come. And my brother disappeared. Ha. They must have better things to attend to."

“What is this? What a strong flavor."

"Finally I found you. Here you are A..."

She was able to stop at last. All those thoughts were very similar to those his papa usually had when he mentally calculated the methods necessary for his missions. She was already feeling dizzy and a little tired. Fortunately, she still had his third glass of water left in case something happened. She needed something fresh. Maybe it wasn't going to help her much, but at least to cool her down a little. Her current condition was a bit critical, at least now she could withdraw from the ceremony, although, at what cost? Her legs were beginning to tremble from no longer supporting the weight, the palms of her hands had the marks of his nails that were almost embedded into the skin, she felt that his lungs stopped giving her help with each breath and she was so weak that she couldn't even get a good grip on the glass so she had to bend down a little to drink the liquid. Above all, she had to maintain as calm a posture as possible.

“Hello, Damian's friend. Good afternoon,” suddenly she hears a calm and very familiar voice. If she could be capable at that moment, she would be shouting curses at the sky. Why me? Why now? She preferred to draw strength from who knows where and pull herself together as much as she can. Having done that, she turns around and sees a very refined guy, a few years older than her.

"Oh, Good afternoon," she tried to maintain her composure since she recognized who she was talking to and that's the one she least wanted to make a scene of. “You are Syon-boy's brother, right, sir?” she sees that the guy looks at her a little nervously.

“If we are talking about the same person, then yes,” he gives her a small smile. “My name is Demetrius Desmond. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. I am…,” she felt a strong pain in her head so she wrinkled her face while putting her hand on her forehead, “o-ouch.”

“Are you alright?” With sincere concern, the guy approaches the pink-haired girl, trying to leave some space between them, so as not to scare her. Although his father taught him to distrust all people because, since they are rich, the majority around him are a lot of interested people who will want to hang on to his fame; happily, he didn't let it turn him into an unfeeling subject. Demetrius knew well how to identify the good people from the bad, and Anya Forger may be clueless and more, but she was not a self-interested one.

"I need a place with fewer people," the girl continued saying, now with both hands covering her forehead and raising her face to see the guy. “Would it be wrong if I left the place?”

“If it’s very necessary, you can do it. Come on, I'll go with you," Desmond offered, still worried as he got closer to the girl who, by instinct, moved away from him, a little doubtful as she could. He will be polite and Eden's perfect student, but still she doesn't know him and he’s a stranger to her —that's also why she rejected his request to take her to her house that time, although on that occasion she did it in a more kind and subtle way. Demetrius noticed and tried to be careful. “Don't worry, I swear I have no intention of doing anything bad to you.”

She mindlessly tries to read his mind to see if he’s really being sincere, but it makes her head hurt more and even makes her nose bleed, so now she covers half of her face with her hands that were lying on the table. Desmond moves closer to her again and makes her lie down on top of him. Anya is pressed against Demetrius' chest, and as odd as the situation seemed, she had no choice but to trust him blindly and be thankful that they were in a place where there weren't many people. The older one felt Forger trembling and called out to her, not by name, of course, to see if she could answer.

“Get out," she whispered to avoid drawing attention to herself, but Demetrius could tell she was holding in too much pain when he felt her hands tighten on his cloak and shirt as they trembled, seeing her lift her face to show her tears and hearing her voice that was like a silent cry for help. “Let’s just get out of here, please.”

The guy nods and so the two immediately head towards the main entrance where some teachers and supervisors were. On the way, Desmond gave Anya his handkerchief to try to stop the bleeding and held the minor tightly with his arm since she could not stand completely and at times seemed to stumble. From the doorway, Professor Henderson could make out the red-haired girl who was accompanied by Demetrius, so he approaches and asks him what happened, to which he mentions to his elder that something has probably gone wrong and that she needs to go to an infirmary as soon as possible. So the professor, without hesitation, opens the door but not before telling the young man that she has a friend who was trying to talk to Damian and that he will look for her to let her know what happened.

Having already left the great hall and the two of them being alone in a lonely hallway, Demetrius takes her to the infirmary even though Anya told him that it was just a minor pain that would pass. When she arrived, the nurse at her touch took care of her by giving her a relaxing pill, cleaning the blood in her nose and taking her to a stretcher so that she could be treated and calmed down. Desmond decided to stay with her at all times while her pain subsided. Above all, he was a gentleman and he was not going to leave her alone in this type of situation.

After the nurse treated the girl, she told her to lie down on the stretcher after taking the pills so she could rest. Both young men thanked her for her help. As the nurse walked to her desk, Demetrius gave the girl the pills and the glass of warm water so she could do as the nurse told her. Anya first took the pills one by one and then ingested them and then took the glass and drank the water. Having already done what was indicated, she sighs and lowers her head a little while she frowns. Yes, it had been a bad day, but she couldn't be that upset either since it was her decision and her curiosity that led her to that state. Suddenly she feels someone's gaze, she raises her head and realizes that the guy was looking at her, to which she is surprised.

"Do you feel better now?" he asks in a worried manner.

"Yes," she answers while leaving the glass on a small table that was next to the stretcher. “I am so sorry for making a scene,” she apologizes. She was very embarrassed to have gone through this in front of the eldest Desmond, who was known in the academy as the model student, the pride of Eden Academy. “And I appreciate that you helped me, sir.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

"My name is Anya Forger," she managed to answer the question the guy had asked her. "A pleasure," she continued speaking with a voice tired from the effort and raised the corner of his lips a little, thus forming a small smile. It was at that moment that Anya had decided not to read anyone's mind again, at least for a long time. She hasn't had such strong feelings since she was little when she couldn't control her power well. The shock was undoubtedly minor, but just as painful.

“And here I wanted to introduce myself and be able to talk to you” Demetrius said both to her and to himself.

“Maybe another time. Now I just want this to be over so I can go home.” A lost look was what the pink-haired kept at that moment. She felt frustrated and tired at the same time, but also calm. She felt that she could already control her breathing better compared to a moment ago.

“You know?” Suddenly the oldest began to speak. “My brother is having a party for his birthday very soon. If he hasn't invited you, maybe I could…”

“No, do not worry. It is not necessary, sir," she interrupts him kindly with a whisper. “I won't go anyway, invited or not.”

“Why?”

“Syon-boy and I do not get along and there are going to be very important people there. I am fixing my reputation, but there are still people in my classroom who will go to the party and hate me, and not just because of my economic condition. It would be very uncomfortable to be in a place where they do not want your presence.”

“It's true, but you don't have to listen to those people, Anya. What matters is that you have a good time. Have you done something bad to them? I don't think so," he said, waiting for a response from the girl, which he received when she shook her head. “So what does it matter if they look at you ugly or not? You wouldn't be doing anything wrong, just having fun at a party. And if they end up, as you say, giving you the stink eye, then the problem is them, not you.”

“The thing is, I do not like parties either, or rather places with a lot of people. Being surrounded by many people gives me headaches, like the one you witnessed. That is why I did not want to come to Syon's ceremony in the first place,” she was very sincere with her answer, but, having realized what she said, she worried about how Demetrius was going to react. “Oh no, I am sorry, I did not want to say something like that about your brother, sir.”

"It's okay, there’s no problem," he reassured her. “So what other places do you go?”

“Museums, operas, theaters. Places like that. Most of the time I stay with my family watching a movie.”

“But there are also a lot of people in museums and theaters.”

“My dad always manages to place us in remote places. Plus, they are quieter places compared to a concert or a march where people shout a lot. In a museum or theater, people don’t talk, they don’t murmur, they don’t whisper… nothing. Just calm.”

“Nor do they think,” she told herself.

"So you prefer quiet places," the guy said to himself thoughtfully in a low voice. “Look, if you prefer, you can be at the party with me, I'll be reviewing some papers in a remote area. You can keep me company," he proposed it to her without any bad intention, although she was also a little scared by the idea of Demetrius, but she acted as if it were just a normal comment. She was in no condition to react badly.

“If I went, I would go with my best friend, and I wouldn't want to leave her alone. She would make a fuss just to find me.”

“Really?”

"Yes, she already did it once, and now I'm worried that she'll do another one today," the pink-haired mentioned before yawning and gently rubbing her eyes. “I think it would be best not to go.”

“You're seeming very pushy. Demetrius. Better stop if you don’t want her to have a bad impression of you.”

“It's okay, it's up to you in the end,” he preferred to stop so as not to disturb her, plus he already saw her tired; the pill was taking effect, “but I only ask that you keep what I told you in mind. Don't pay any attention to what the others say about you. If they don't like you, don't care," he says to the girl, which inwardly cheered her up a little. “Just go on living your life and have fun. I hope I can talk to you again some other time.”

The boy stood up then and was willing to give her her space so she could sleep peacefully, though he would still stay in the infirmary in case of an emergency; suddenly, he felt something tugging on his Imperial Scholar's cloak. Demetrius turns around and sees the girl already about to lie down while she was holding the cloak, as if that were her only support, while she was trying to say something. As she was almost about to fall abruptly onto the stretcher, Desmond, on impulse, goes towards her, with his arm holds her back and brings her closer to him to, also, listen to her properly.

“Yes, I… I also… look forward… to talking to… you again…, sir.”

Anya finishes talking and falls asleep on his lap. Demetrius gently lays her down on the stretcher and suddenly he hears her snoring, which makes him want to laugh, but he decides to keep his composure so as not to wake her up. He removes his arms from her body and sees some pink hair on the girl's face. Demetrius sighs, smiles and carefully puts them back to her. In the meantime, he remained watching the features of her face a little absorbed, as if hypnotized. She's really nice , he kept thinking. “I went a little overboard with her, but she still treated me kindly, she's a good person. Seriously, how could Damian possibly treat someone like Anya badly? She probably didn't do anything wrong to him. Are they friends? Are they close? I don’t think so. She’s respectful, friendly and humble, while he's arrogant and self-serving. If I could, I wouldn’t put up with someone like that. He's out of his mind, but he also has confusing feelings for her. He didn't get nervous for nothing when he was talking to her the other time. Damn. I really don’t understand this guy… Wait a minute” .  It is then that he returns to reality and stops his body from whatever he was doing and, as he inspects with his gaze, he realizes that the surface of the fingers of one of his hands was on the girl's cheek. He was unconsciously caressing her face. “What is wrong with you, Demetrius? Was it not enough to have spoken to her when she could barely do so?” . He breathes again and, before moving away from her to give her her personal space, he brought his face a little closer to hers.

“Don’t be so polite with me, Anya, okay?” he whispers, knowing she wouldn't hear him. “I'm a young guy, not a sir.”

A few minutes passed and Anya was still asleep and snoring. There were still a few traces of blood on her nose which were cleaned one by one by Demetrius who was sitting in one of the chairs in the nurse's office whom he had asked permission to borrow. Suddenly he hears someone's footsteps running and, at the same time, a worried female voice looking for the nurse.

“Anya Forger! Where is she?!” That girl asked, almost shouting. The nurse guided her right to where the pink-haired girl and the boy were, and Becky, upon seeing Demetrius, couldn't help but make an unfriendly face. What was a stranger doing with his best friend? She was going to complain to him, but the nurse stopped her and explained that he was the one who helped Anya come to the infirmary and was taking care of her the entire time. That seemed even more strange to Blackbell, but she could only thank the guy for what he did with her best friend, also telling him that she will return the favor someday and that now she could take care of Anya. Demetrius stands up and tells the brown-haired girl that she doesn't owe him anything since he helped her because he wanted to and not to receive something in return, finally saying goodbye politely to both the girl and the nurse and leaving the infirmary.

"What a weirdo," the girl said quietly after he left and then sat down next to her best friend.

⭒⭒⭒

The next day, Anya goes to school on the school bus as usual and, when she arrives, she gets off to walk to the main entrance. As she walked, she began to remember some things that happened the day before: Syon-boy’s ceremony, Becky going to talk to him, her crazy mind-reading, Demetrius Desmond greeting her and helping her…

One moment. Demetrius Desmond? Eden Academy's number one student? Did that same one really help her? And on top of it she remembers that he was with her in the infirmary. Expected of a gentleman, but she still couldn't imagine that this was really possible. For all the students, Demetrius Desmond was almost like a figure of authority, always with his bearing and his characteristic serious face, rather neutral, as if he had no feelings; and with his only interest in studies. It was incredible that someone like him had helped her. She would definitely thank him, but not at that moment because her classes would begin.

As she went to the living room she also remembered some things that Demetrius had told her yesterday:

“... you don't have to listen to those people…”

“... what matters is that you have a good time…”

“... what does it matter if they look at you ugly or not?..”

“... you wouldn't be doing anything wrong…”

“... if they end up giving you the stink eye, then the problem is them, not you.”

Could he be right? , the girl asked herself as she continued her way to the living room. She had to admit the fact that she avoided interacting with people. Yes, there were some that she got along with, but they were few. Most of the people in her class had made fun of her so many times or treated her like she was less than them, that she felt a little uncomfortable with even the idea of being with them outside of school. She knew that she couldn't be like this forever, on top of that her parents talked to her a while ago so that she could go out a little more and give herself the opportunity to meet them, but Anya still continued to feel the looks of rejection from her classmates around her. His fear did not completely disappear, and his envious thoughts made his head hurt. That didn't mean she was ignoring them, she treated them with respect, but she still preferred to keep her distance from them. Plus, it was sweet what Demetrius said to her. He couldn't say much since he doesn't know that she reads minds, but, equally, she thought it was very nice of him to encourage her to go to his brother's party.

“... don't pay any attention to what others say about you…”

“... If they don't like you, don't care…" 

“... just go on living your life and have fun...”

What if I go?, she stopped for a moment and wrinkled her face a little. What did she just think? She thought she had gone completely crazy. She could be the victim of a prank that her classmates could play on her or make a fool of herself with them and be the laughingstock of the year. It was better for her not to attend. Maybe she could do another Spy Wars marathon with her parents, but she knew that they would be happy for her to go to the party, especially her dad who, for a long time, wanted her to get closer to Syon-boy. And Becky would also like them both to go and enjoy themselves at a party like many girls did. Mmm, I don't think it would be so bad to go... at least once . She could go and stay only a few minutes, she was not obliged to stay until the end. However, what was the point of going there if she wouldn't even stay for the cake? In that case she would prefer to stay at home, but she was curious what it would be like to be in one. What's it like? What should she wear? Should she bring a gift? Big or small? What food will there be? Will they serve peanuts? Do they dance? Do they sing? Do they just talk? What do they usually do there? Coming from someone high-ranking like the Desmond family, it’s expected to be a giant one. There's probably a lot of people there. It was already starting to creep her out a bit; however, since she told herself that she wouldn't be reading anyone's minds for a while, there wouldn't be much to worry about.

Also, if she got a headache, Demetrius offered her to accompany him to the office where he would be. Of course it seemed a little strange at first, not to say too much, but she also had to accept that she was a little intrigued as to why this boy was suddenly interested in her. What did he want to achieve by approaching her? He doesn’t seem like a person who needs the company of someone like her. How would that benefit her? She still had doubts, but, despite that, she couldn't undo the fact that he helped her through a difficult time. His actions spoke volumes about his person. So spending time with him couldn't be all that bad. And, at one point, she had to admit that Demetrius was right. Was it really worth it to keep hiding? If she kept it up, it wouldn't do her any good. She wasn't going to be afraid of people for the rest of her life. It was time for her to stand up to them and put a stop to it in case someone wanted to do something bad against her.

"In that case, I accept," she said to herself.

Since she had decided that she would go, now all that was left was to talk to Becky about it. When she arrived at the classroom, she only met some of her classmates, Damian and his henchmen. Since she didn't see her best friend both inside and in the corridors and neither at the main entrance of the academy, she deduced that she hadn't come. He would call her when he got home to check if something bad had happened to her. 

Anya approached Damian and his henchmen with a firm stance and a serene countenance, though inside she wished she could find another way to not have to talk to him specifically when he puts on his arrogant classist persona. And that was made worse by the presence of his henchmen which only added to her discomfort. Despite their strained relationship, Anya knew she had no choice but to talk to him. She was about to start making a mental sketch of what she was going to say to him, but was spared that work when a familiar voice interrupted her from her thoughts.

"But look who's here," Syon-boy began to speak with his usual haughty tone. Anya felt the urge to hit him again, as she did the day they met, but she restrained herself, knowing it wasn't worth it. "Did you come to congratulate me like the others? You were already missing," he joked with her, looking away as if it was irrelevant to him. "I got plenty of congratulations yesterday, though. I don't need a dirty common...

“I just wanted to tell you that I’ll come to your party," she interrupted him bluntly.

“W-What?” Syon Boy almost stammered in disbelief, turning his gaze directly to her eyes. “Are you going? Really?” he asked her, almost unable to contain his excitement, something that not even he himself had noticed.

“Yes, I'll go,” Anya noticed the change in Syon's tone of voice. He seemed excited at the thought of her attending. With that in mind, she decided to tease him a little more. “Happy, Syon?” She asked him with that characteristic smile that she knew irritated him.

“What things are you saying, uggo?” Seeing that his friend didn’t respond, Ewen decides to speak for him. “You are very lucky that a commoner like you has had the good fortune of being invited,” he claims.

“Missing the best party in the world would be very painful for you,” Emile follows the mockery, “so going is a smart decision. Unbelievable coming from you.”

"I really wasn't interested at all, not even with Becky's pleas," she confessed to the boys, changing her previous expression to a more serious and somewhat frustrated one, managing to unsettle them slightly. "But well," she sighed reluctance and, determined to put an end to that conversation once and for all, she turned her gaze back to Desmond. “You should rather thank your brother. He was the one who finally convinced me,” and, having said everything she wanted to express,s he gave the two blondes his characteristic mocking smirk and retreated to her seat.

Damian was so absorbed in his thoughts when she told him she was going that he couldn't reason or analyze what was going on because his imagination was running wild. The idea of her, the girl who had occupied his thoughts for years, arriving at the party was almost surreal. But there she would be, looking for him to ask permission to kiss his hand in greeting and invite him to a dance. There would be ambient music and the two would dance to the beat while not taking their eyes off each other. Damian would be fascinated by her, unable to look away even for a second; as if he were looking at a being from another world, a magical creature that had decided to come down to Earth just to captivate him. And, in the midst of the magic, despite the immense pride he carries, he would express to her how delighted he is to have her there.

However, just when he was carried away by the fantasy of being with her, his dream girl's response managed to break the spell that kept him captive, as if a dagger had been stuck in his chest. The illusion abruptly vanished, and Damian found himself trapped between two worlds. At first, confusion clouded his mind, but he soon realized that her words were not coming from her imagination, but from a painful truth that forced him to face his current situation.

His reality.

“...You should rather thank your brother…”

“...should rather thank your brother…”

“...thank your brother…”

“... your brother…”

“brother…”

“¿De… me… trius?”

As he wished, they managed to talk again. This time, Anya went to the library to do her homework, and Demetrius was there reading a book on politics for his class. She headed to the front desk to enter her name and the length of time she would stay inside it. Having finished that, she went to the shelves of the classic novels area and looked for a long time until she chose a thick red and black book. She headed to the front desk to enter her name and the length of time she would stay inside it. Having finished that, she went to the shelves of the classic novels area and looked for a long time until she chose a thick red and black book. When he saw her sit down a few tables away, he got up from her seat and walked towards where she was, thinking about what he could say to her. He didn't know whether to start by apologizing for insisting on talking to her while she was sick or just greet her and go on his way. By the time he had an idea of what he was going to say to her, he heard a female voice calling out to him.

“Good morning, Demetrius Desmond. Nice to see you again”

The boy turns around, bewildered. Was she really talking to him? For a moment he thought the girl would try to ignore him. If she had, it would have been understandable, because someone coming out of nowhere to help you and trying to talk to you as if you were acquaintances is a little scary.

“Hi, Anya,” he replied, trying to sound calmer than he actually was.

He stood still for a second, unsure whether or not he should stay, but Anya, as if reading his mind (which she does, but he doesn’t know), gestured gently to the chair across from her. Demetrius sat down, surprised by how easy it had been. There was no tension, no distance. It was as if that brief interaction at Damian’s ceremony had actually left a door open between them.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, glancing at the thick book Demetrius was carrying.

“Studying for my class, " he replied, absentmindedly running a hand over the cover of the book. “But I guess I got distracted when I saw you. I wasn't expecting to run into you.”

Anya let out a small laugh. There was something about her laugh that calmed him.

“I don't usually come here much, but I had to find some light reading to take my mind off everything else.”

Demetrius nodded, noticing that the book she had chosen was not exactly light, but he didn't comment. What did surprise him was how natural the conversation felt after that. They talked about books, classes, and eventually, what had happened at Damian's ceremony.

“I wanted to apologize to you for my behavior that day,” he began to say. “You were feeling bad and I acted like nothing was wrong. I kept talking to you and you had a headache and…

“It 's okay. I admit it was very strange at first, I even thought you wanted to take advantage of me, but you didn't and I appreciate that. Apart from having taken me to the infirmary.”

"I swear I won't do it again," he said more seriously, to which Anya smiled again, making the problem already solved.

Neither of them wanted to say anything more about the ceremony, but the quiet and welcoming atmosphere of the library allowed them to navigate the conversation without any problems.

The following days, after that meeting, they began to see each other more often. It was not something planned, but somehow, their paths coincided in the corridors of the academy or in the cafeteria. When they had a free moment, they sat together to chat. The initial barrier between them, that feeling of being little more than acquaintances, slowly crumbled.

On one occasion, the eldest Desmond even went to the Forger house because he had something secretly planned for her. After several conversations at the academy and the growth of their friendship, Demetrius had decided that he wanted to spend more time with Anya outside the walls of the school, but he wanted to do it the right way.

“Hey Any,” he called her with the nickname he had been using with her for weeks. “I would really like to go out with you,” abruptly, the pink-haired girl stopped what she was doing to give him a surprised look. Was he serious? What things was he saying? And, especially, why was she feeling this way? This… anxiety… terror… desperation… why?. “Let's go get something to eat.”

“Oh, really?” she asked awkwardly. For some strange reason, she felt a little too relieved when she said that. “W-... Where? When?”

“Don't worry. I already have a place planned to go. Trust me.”

“But will there be a lot of people…

“I swear there won't be people. I'll take care of that. Okay? But first, I need your parents' permission.”

So, upon arriving at the Forger house, Demetrius was greeted by Yor, her mother. With respect and consideration, he asked her permission to invite her daughter to a cafe near the park, explaining that he had rented the place just for the two of them, in case the pink-haired girl felt overwhelmed by the presence of other people. This gesture amazed Yor, who was touched by the boy's delicacy towards her daughter, although she couldn't help but feel nervous, fearing that the boy knew Anya's secret. But just then, she approached her mother and, with a calm and comforting look, made her understand that there was nothing to worry about. Demetrius knew nothing of her true nature or of the secrets that the Forgers kept. With that relief, Yor accepted Demetrius' invitation with a more relaxed smile.

The real challenge came when Loid Forger, her father, entered the picture. To him, Anya was his little princess, and the idea of ​​a boy, especially Damian's older brother, wanting to go out with her made him feel defensive. Although Demetrius had been polite and considerate, Loid was constantly examining every word and gesture, looking for any sign that the young man's intentions weren't entirely clear.

After a tense exchange, in which Demetrius remained firm but respectful, Loid finally relented, though not without making it clear that he expected him to take good care of Anya.

⭒⭒⭒

As the special day had arrived, Demetrius thought he would treat himself to a little makeover. After putting on the tuxedo he had ordered a few days ago, he walked over to the mirror while adjusting for the umpteenth time the tie that was already perfectly made. He looked at himself from head to toe and, for a moment, felt uncomfortably impeccable. I look very perfect , he said to himself in a low voice, with a slight touch of remorse inside him. He looked at his reflection with a strange feeling, wondering what he could change to look different, more relaxed, less rigid.

The problem came when he finally had a clear idea of ​​what he wanted to do: take off his family ring, undo his tie, or maybe even change his hairstyle to something less formal. However, when he tried to get down to business, his fingers froze halfway. It was as if something was holding him back, and that “something” wasn’t just the habit. It was fear. He had so much fear.

His gaze drifted to the Desmond family ring, that symbol of power and prestige he had carried with him for as long as he could remember. What had once felt like an honor now felt like a shackle. Then he glanced at his watch, the one his father had given him when he became an Imperial Scholar. A gift that, more than an object of pride, was a constant reminder of the crushing expectations he carried on his shoulders. He wanted to take it off, he wanted so badly to go on that outing with Anya just being himself, without the heavy marks of formality and authority his family imposed.

But the mere thought of his father seeing him like that, without his symbols of 'perfection', made him shudder. He knew all too well what would happen if his father found out. The punishments he would receive would not be physical, but much worse. It would be the weight of disappointment, disdain, and most of all, the cold stare that would make him feel like he was not worthy of being a Desmond. That feeling paralyzed him.

What should I do? I can’t stop shaking , he told himself, feeling his emotions consuming him. The desire to be himself and enjoy the outing with Anya, free from his family’s expectations, clashed violently with the deep fear of the consequences. For a moment, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t want fear to control him, not this time.

Finally, he looked at his reflection once more. He might not be able to get rid of everything that being a Desmond represented, not all at once, but he could do something small, something that, even if it was insignificant to others, would symbolize an act of personal rebellion to him. So, with trembling hands, he loosened his tie a little. He didn't take it off completely, but that simple gesture was enough to calm him down a little. It was a start, however small.

He looked at himself again, now with a slight smile. It's not much, but it's better than nothing , he thought. He still wore the ring and watch, but at least he felt a little better about himself. Now he was ready to go for Anya.

With his tie slightly loosened and a feeling of relief mixed with nerves, Demetrius grabbed his jacket and left his room, walking through the halls of the enormous Desmond mansion. He climbed into the vehicle waiting for him at the entrance, the driver already knowing the destination: the Forger house.

As the vehicle made its way through the streets toward the modest residence, Demetrius found himself thinking about what he had planned for that afternoon. From the conversations he had had with her over the past few weeks, he had been able to research the girl's tastes. He knew she had a sweet tooth, and he had requested a special menu with some of her favorite treats, especially peanuts. He hoped everything would go well, but more than anything, he wanted Anya to feel comfortable.

The car stopped in front of the Forger house. Demetrius took a deep breath before getting out. He rang the bell and, after a few seconds, the door opened. This time it wasn't Yor who greeted him, but Anya, who watched him with a mixture of excitement and shyness.

“Hey, Demi!,” she said, smiling widely, with those big bright eyes that always seemed to know more than they were letting on, and with the nickname she used for him.

Demetrius smiled, surprised at how natural it was to see her. He realized that despite all the nervousness he had built up, Anya's presence calmed him down.

“Hi, Any. Are you ready?,” he asked, trying to sound more relaxed than he felt.

Anya nodded, taking a small leap forward as she grabbed her bag. Behind her, Yor and Loid appeared at the door, like silent guardians. Yor smiled at her with that characteristic warmth, while Loid kept a neutral expression, although Demetrius knew she was evaluating him with every movement.

“Have fun, but take good care of her," Loid said, in a tone that left no doubt as to what 'take good care of her' implied.

Demetrius nodded respectfully. He opened the vehicle door for Anya, who climbed in excitedly. Before getting in himself, he took one last look at Loid, nodding slightly.

The car started smoothly, moving away from the house, while Anya looked out the window with a smile on her face. Demetrius, sitting next to her, felt the weight he had carried until that moment begin to fade away. He was a little nervous, yes, but at the same time, there was something about Anya's energy that made him feel freer. Today, for the first time, he was not the Desmond heir. Today he just wanted to enjoy an afternoon with someone special.

When they arrived at the café, the tranquility of the nearby park and the small entrance decorated with flowers welcomed them. As he got out of the car, Demetrius looked at Anya, hoping that this place would be as special to her as he had imagined.

“Welcome,” he said with a smile. “This place is all ours for today.”

Already settled at the private table in the small café, the atmosphere was cozy and calm, just as Demetrius had planned. The soft lights created a warm glow on the walls, while the distant sound of the leaves in the park being moved by the wind seemed to surround them. In front of them, there was a variety of cakes and sweets, all carefully selected to surprise Anya.

Her big eyes shining with excitement, she couldn't contain herself and had already started trying some of the candy containing peanuts, her favorite. Her soft laughter filled the room as she savored a serving of chocolate covered peanut cookies.

“This is delicious!” Anya exclaimed, taking a sip of her strawberry milkshake. “I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Demetrius watched her with a smile on his face, but in his mind, something was bothering him. Every time he saw Anya's smile or the way her eyes lit up when she spoke, his thoughts returned to his brother, Damian. Over the past few weeks, he had begun to notice things that he hadn't thought important before. His brother used to be arrogant, proud, and discriminating towards "commoners," but when it came to Anya, something about him changed. It was too subtle, but Demetrius had noticed it. He cared about her, helped her indirectly, and sometimes, he even acted uncomfortable and annoyed when Becky teased him about how they were pushing Anya away from him (causing jealousy on purpose). For someone like Damian, those little gestures said more than a thousand words. He couldn't help but think that his brother did indeed have certain feelings for Anya. Was it really possible that Damian Desmond, so arrogant and proud, was hiding those feelings?

As they ate in silence for a moment, Demetrius recalled the times his brother had tried to hide his concern for her. Like that time he saw him defending her at school, although he later denied everything with his typical arrogance. And then, the gesture of buying her candy as an apology (which he found out from Anya in one of their conversations). Everything indicated that his brother was more involved than he wanted to admit, but Anya didn't seem to notice. Or at least, she didn't show any signs of it. 

His thoughts absorbed him so much that he barely noticed Anya looking at him, her head tilted slightly.

“Are you okay?” she asked, noticing that he had been quieter than usual.

Demetrius blinked and sat up straighter in his seat, pushing those thoughts aside, at least for the moment. He didn’t want to ruin the afternoon with his own doubts, much less the confusion he felt about Damian and Anya.

“Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about… some things,” he replied, cracking a smile that didn’t entirely hide his concerns.

Anya watched him for a moment, as if considering whether she should push the issue, but decided against it and returned her focus to the sweets in front of her. However, Demetrius felt he had to say something. Although he didn't want to mention Damian directly, he felt the need to clarify certain things, to let Anya know that there was something on his mind. 

“Any, I...” he began, leaning forward slightly to catch her attention. 

But before he could continue, the girl interrupted him with a serious yet gentle expression. 

“First of all, I would like to apologize.”

Demetrius was stunned for a second, not knowing what she meant.

“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong,” he replied, confused.

“It’s just that…” she began, playing with a napkin in her hands, “you have a label at the academy as the perfect student. And the fact that I approached you without any carelessness when I first saw you, I…”

Demetrius looked at her curiously. He had never thought of himself that way, although he knew that his reputation among the students was impeccable. Being the eldest Desmond came with expectations, but he never imagined that Anya would feel intimidated by that.

“Anya,” he interrupted in a soft voice, leaning towards her, “I told you that I don't have any problems. Don't be too polite with me, please. We're just two people talking, aren't we?”

Anya nodded slowly, still a little nervous, but her expression began to relax. At that moment, one of the waiters appeared with another dessert: a strawberry cake covered with a generous layer of cream. Anya couldn't help but have her eyes light up when she saw the plate. Demetrius smiled at her reaction, but deep down, he was still trying to find a way to introduce Damian into the conversation without making it awkward.

While Anya focused on tasting the cake, Demetrius took the opportunity to gather his thoughts. He had noticed a lot of things between her and Damian, but he wasn't sure how to get Anya to talk about it without raising suspicion.

Demetrius wasn't sure how to get Anya to talk about these moments. He didn't want to make her feel like he was interrogating her, but curiosity consumed him.

“You're in Cecile Hall, right?”

“Yes. 10 years straight, Demi. I don't even know how I managed to stay there because you know I'm not that hard-working,” he laughed a little, “but I think it was because when Becky told me that we would be separated if I continued to get low grades, I freaked out. She was my only friend at the time. Well, she is the only one I consider my friend.”

Demetrius arched an eyebrow and smiled playfully.

“And me?” he asked jokingly. “We even call each other by nicknames.”

Anya let out a soft laugh.

“Ok, you're my friend too, Demi.”

The complicity in the air was palpable, and Demetrius, despite his doubts, felt more and more comfortable in the conversation. But his mind was still on Damian, and he knew he couldn't let the subject go untouched.

“Cecile Hall” he said, in a more thoughtful tone. “That means you've been taking classes with Damian in the same classroom for ten years now.”

“Well yes.”

Finally, Demetrius had accomplished what he had been trying to do for a while. He noticed that the mention of his brother had caused a slight change in Anya's expression. Her usual smile softened and a slight blush appeared on her cheeks. Although she didn't seem uncomfortable, there was a subtle nervousness in her posture. Demetrius observed these details carefully. The way Anya tried to remain calm while fiddling with her napkin told him that there was something more behind that ‘yes.’ He knew that Damian had feelings for her, but was Anya aware of them? Or, perhaps, did she reciprocate them in some way?

“What do you think of my brother? And before you answer,” he didn't change the subject much since they were going to talk about Damian, but there was something he wanted to tell him. “I want to apologize for the bad way he treated you the day we met. He shouldn't have treated you in such a... despicable way” he answered Anya with a bit of bitterness in his voice.

“Don't worry, Demi. He's like that, let's say I expected it.”

“I think that if there's something he's doing wrong, you should tell him. I'm a wealthy person too and I don't treat people who aren't wealthy like garbage.”

“Those things bothered me a lot about him when I was little. I remember my father insisting that I approach Syon-boy, but since I didn’t like him, I always ignored him. One day, in the gym, we had to play dodgeball and, because we were in the same classroom, I ended up on his team. In the end, it was just the two of us against the other team, which had a huge boy.” Anya paused for a moment, her face showing a slight blush as she remembered. “I was dodging the balls, but I tripped and fell. I thought he would leave me there, especially when the huge boy threw the ball straight at me. But suddenly, I saw Syon-boy in front of me, stopping the ball with his body to protect me.”

Demetrius leaned forward in amazement.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Anya continued, with a mix of nostalgia. “Although he later complained about losing, I found out that he went to the infirmary with wounds on his hands from holding the ball. There were more moments like that. I remember one field trip where we got lost. It was pouring rain and we took shelter in a cave while we waited for rescue. I was terrified and started to cry. Suddenly, I felt a hand holding me firmly. It was him, trying to calm me down, telling me not to be afraid because he was there to protect me.”

Demetrius opened his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows. Was that real? Maybe yes, maybe not. But Anya gave him the vibe of someone sincere, he didn't believe his friend was capable of lying, and if she did, at least not about that subject. So if she really was telling the truth, what she just said was the most incredible thing he had ever heard, more than when Jeeves had once told him that Donovan Desmond appreciated his children deep down. How could that be possible? An arrogant and discriminating classist helping someone poor? Being able to risk himself for someone? Are they even talking about the same person? They are referring to the same Damian Desmond, right?

“I know he has his ups and downs, but I'm sure that, deep down, he's not a bad person. Maybe he had a very difficult childhood, who knows?” With this last thing, the older one managed to get out of his trance and deepened his eyes a little, staring at the girl with curiosity and interest.

“What do you mean by "difficult childhood"?” asked Demetrius with a serious tone that, although that was not his intention, caused a slight tremor in the pink-haired girl.

“It's not bad at all.” Anya answered quickly, seeking to reassure him. “I don't want to judge, but I think it wasn't easy for him to live as a Desmond. Having that last name seems to be a heavy burden, a gift and a curse at the same time.”

There was a brief silence as Demetrius recalled his own nervousness before meeting Anya.

“Go on,” he finally said, giving her room to continue.

“When we were kids, he always showed off his last name, and that attracted classmates interested only in his status. They weren't looking for his genuine friendship, but for the benefit they could get from his name. Syon-boy always acted like he didn't care, but in reality, his biggest fear is not having anyone who truly loves him. He wanted, and I think he still wants, to have friends who appreciate him not for being a Desmond, but simply… for being Damian. Just another student at Eden Academy. Just another boy.”

Anya had left Demetrius so shocked that he was speechless. For years, he had always thought that his brother had an easier life as the second son. But now, reflecting on what Anya had told him, he began to understand that Damian was carrying his own weight as well. With Melinda gone and Donovan focusing solely on him, Damian had been left behind. Demetrius realized that his brother was not so different from him when it came to struggles. Who knew they had something that important in common?

“You're not upset?” the girl asks with concern. “I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

Demetrius shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts.

“No, Any. Don’t worry. It’s just… you got me thinking. I carry the weight of being the firstborn. I’m the future leader of the family, so my father puts extreme pressure on me and I always saw Damian so… calm, relaxed, as if he had no weight on his shoulders. Our Father focused and still focuses more on me than on him, so much so that any mistake I make, even if it’s something small, he would take it as the greatest tragedy in history. I have to be perfect 24 hours a day. So, you can probably have an idea of ​​how angry I was that I had to bear all the pressure and he, apparently, could do whatever he wanted and my father wouldn’t care. I sank for so many… so many years in my misfortune, in my frustration and anger that I couldn’t see and it couldn’t even have crossed my mind that I wasn’t the only one who was having a bad time.”

How selfish of me, he said to himself wistfully. It was the first time he felt sorry for his brother.

“I always thought his family was cruel to him, and it seems I wasn't so wrong. But acknowledging that you made a mistake is a big step towards change. Maybe it's time for you to sit down and talk. Clear up your doubts, apologize…

“It's hard to talk to him, Any. The problem with my brother is that he's so stubborn that you don't even want to talk to him.”

“It would be so nice if you gave yourself the chance to talk to him, not the Damian who you dislike and despair about, but the Damian who saved me and tried to protect me. Or the Damian who bought me some candy as an apology. Believe me, Demi, that version of Damian is amazing.”

A little thing Anya didn't notice, but Demetrius Desmond picked up on perfectly.

As she spoke these words, her eyes lit up with a special spark, and her lips broke into a smile that Demetrius had never seen before. It was a subtle, almost imperceptible change, but for someone who, at this point, knew Anya well, it was impossible to ignore. The way her cheeks blushed slightly at the mention of Damian's kind gestures, the softness in her voice as she recalled those moments, and the sparkle in her eyes, all pointed to a truth that Demetrius could not ignore.

“ Any,” he calls out to her to bring her back to her senses, “could it be that you… maybe… have feelings for…

“Ah… I… uhm… what?” Demetrius noticed how the pink-haired girl tried to hide her nervousness, playing with the napkin again and avoiding eye contact. “What are you talking about?”

“Anya,” he didn't call her by her nickname this time because he wanted to be more serious with what he was going to say next, “I'm usually an analytical person. I don't read minds, I won't know what someone is thinking, but I can identify situations and read people, specifically with people I usually spend my time with and those who are like an open book. And, it seems to me, you appreciate my brother, more than “normal.””

Anya frowned, feeling her nervousness rise.

“It’s because I never saw him as a Desmond. To me, he was always just another classmate.”

“Yeah, right. I believe you,” Demetrius said, though his tone showed doubt.

“I’m serious, Demi. Ever since I met him, I always saw him like that, as a classmate.”

“I could believe you that,” he tells her skeptically, “but it's been 10 years sharing the same classroom, therefore, you've had moments together. I'm even sure that there have been more situations that involved both of you and you haven't told me about them. I know that what I'm going to ask may sound silly, but haven't you developed feelings for Damian in all this time? Because the way you talk about him suggests that you have.”

“What feelings, exactly?” Anya was still surprised by what her friend said, by what she asks him.

“Anya,” he tells her her name again, “you already know what I'm talking about.”

The color on Anya's face intensified and her hands trembled slightly, as she held the napkin in her hand. The nerves in the air were palpable, and her gaze shifted to the window, as if she were looking for an escape in the landscape outside. She knew that this wasn't an interrogation in which she was being forced to confess (since if she compared this to the ones she saw in Spy Wars or other police series, what was happening to her was absolutely nothing), but even so, talking about this subject was a little complicated because she didn't know what she felt... or maybe she had an idea, but it was hard for her to assimilate it. After a moment of silence full of tension, her lips trembled and she finally brought both hands to her face so that he wouldn't see how red she had already become.

"I'm going to take that silence, nervousness and blush as a yes," Demetrius said with an understanding smile, noticing Anya's difficulty in accepting her feelings. Anya let out a sigh, still holding her face in her hands, feeling trapped in a tangle of emotions.

“But it's no use whether I say something or not.”

“You're contradicting yourself a bit, but I see your point. I think you should be honest with yourself, just like him.” Demetrius replied, showing seriousness.

Anya, lowering her hands to her lap, looks up and sees him frowning, confused.

“How do you mean like him? I don't understand.”

“I've noticed changes in my brother's behavior lately.” Demetrius explained, looking at Anya with a thoughtful expression. “Attitudes I've never seen before. But that's something he has to discover for himself, just as you're discovering what you feel now.”

Anya looked down, nervously playing with her fingers, as the atmosphere between them grew denser. Demetrius noticed how she avoided his gaze, and felt a pang of worry in his chest. Her words had been deeper than he had expected, and the silence that now hung between them only increased his sense of guilt.

“I'm putting pressure on you, aren't I?” Demetrius asked, noticing Anya avoiding his gaze. He too lowered his gaze, feeling overwhelmed by the tension he had created. “Sorry, again.”

“Don't worry,” Anya replied with a soft smile. “In fact, this conversation has helped me understand things that I hadn't even noticed before. Even with Becky, I couldn't understand certain situations. In part, I'm glad I met you, Demetrius.”

Demetrius looked up, surprised by the girl's sincerity. He smiled back, feeling a deeper connection.

“I'm glad I met you too,” he said, settling into his seat. “With you, I feel more... free. It's weird, but you make me feel like I can be myself. I know I have my flaws, but I want to improve, to be a better person and a better friend to you. So you can trust me, Anya, always.”

She looked at him, feeling the weight of his words, as if some of her anxiety had dissipated. She nodded slowly, feeling secure in her friend's sincerity.

“In that case, I think there's something you should know. Since we're both here, I want to take the opportunity to tell you so that it won't be too late later.”

Demetrius leaned forward, his expression showing genuine concern.

“Is it something bad? Because if it is, let me tell you that you can count on me for anything, I could even help you.”

“Thanks, Demi, but it's not something serious, I think. I just prefer that you find out from me and not from other circumstances. Now that I think about it, yes, I think I'll need your help.”

“Tell me, Any, I'm all ears.”

“Ok. The thing is that I…”

The day of Damian's party finally arrived, and Becky's excitement was hard to ignore. It wasn't that she liked the youngest Desmond, quite the contrary; but the real reason for her excitement was that, after much insistence, Anya, the girl who didn't like parties, had agreed to go. Becky almost threw her phone when Anya confirmed it. She immediately took control of the situation, promising to take care of everything: the dresses, the makeup, and even how they would enter to make the best possible impression. The idea of ​​wearing matching dresses excited the brunette more than Anya, who preferred something simpler. Nevertheless, she agreed to please her friend. She liked seeing her happy.

They were now in Becky's room, getting ready for the big night. While Becky adjusted her dress with a twinkle in her eye, Anya looked at herself in the mirror, feeling a little out of place in the extravagant outfit she was wearing.

“I swear, when we walk in, everyone's jaws are going to drop,” Blackbell said as they put the finishing touches on the preparations. “We're going to steal all the glances!”

“I'm not sure I want to steal so many glances,” Anya replied, giggling nervously, as she made sure her mask was tight and gently tugged at the fabric of her dress. “It looks like one of those dresses that princesses wear in history books. I think it's too much.”

“Too much? It's perfect!” Becky exclaimed, turning around to admire herself in the mirror. “Besides, it's your first big party, you have to shine. And, well, even if it's that idiot Damian's party, the important thing is that you go.”

Anya laughed, knowing how little Becky cared about the birthday boy.

“I don't know if I want to shine that much,” she murmured, looking at her reflection. “I rather not be noticed by the people, you know why.”

“Yes, I know,” Becky said, lowering her voice, aware of what it meant for Anya to be at a party full of people. She knew that her best friend didn’t like being around crowds, not only because of the usual discomfort, but because, due to her ability to read minds, being in a place with too many people was overwhelming for her. The chaos of thoughts gave her severe headaches, and being exposed to so many at the same time was unbearable. “Are you sure you want to go?” Becky asked with a touch of concern, as she adjusted one of the folds of Anya's dress. “You know that if at any time you feel bad, we can leave. And I think Demetrius would understand.”

Anya smiled a little, grateful for her friend's consideration, but she knew she had to try. She had spent so much time avoiding these situations, staying out of everything in general, and it was time to get out of that comfort zone, if only for one night. Besides, Demetrius himself had been the one to convince her to go. His words had given her courage, one she now tried to keep.

“I’m sure,” Anya replied, adjusting her dress with a more determined expression. “Besides, Demi’s right. I can’t keep letting fear or other people’s opinions stop me forever. I have to learn to enjoy these things, even if it’s just once in a while.”

Becky smiled at that, relieved that Anya was determined to give her a chance. She knew it wasn’t easy for her friend, especially considering that most of the students at Eden Academy didn’t exactly treat her well. Outside of Becky, almost no one liked Anya, and that made her feel even more out of place. But tonight, she had Becky by her side and Demetrius waiting to make sure everything went well.

“Well, if Demetrius told you to, then do it!” Becky exclaimed with renewed enthusiasm. “Go and show those ignorant people how amazing you can be when you decide to have fun!”

Anya laughed softly, knowing that Becky wouldn't give up until she made sure they both had a good time.

“Thank you, Becky,” Anya said, taking her friend's hand. “I'm glad to have you with me.”

“Always, bestie,” Becky replied with a radiant smile. “This night will be yours. And if anyone dares to look at you wrong, I will personally make sure they regret it.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you really hate everyone or just the ones I don't like,” Anya joked.

“Only the ones who don't value you,” Becky replied with a serious look, although the laughter in her eyes soon returned. “Now, to the party!”

Both friends looked at each other in the mirror one last time before leaving. Although Anya still felt that uneasiness, Becky's support and Demetrius' words gave her enough confidence to face whatever awaited her at Damian's party.

⭒⭒⭒

Sitting in Becky's luxurious limo, Anya and her best friend settled into the seats as the city passed by the window. Both were impeccable in their party dresses, ready for the night, although the atmosphere inside the car was relaxed and full of confidences. Blackbell didn't stop talking, telling Anya what had recently happened with Bill Watkins and how he had invited her to lunch not just once, but three times in the last few weeks, after school.

“So yes, let's say we're “dating,” but we're not boyfriends or anything like that,” the brunette said, shrugging her shoulders. “But let's not talk about my dates anymore. Tell me how you've become such good friends with Demetrius Desmond. I always see you two together lately. And before you deny it, no, it's not a common thing. Besides, you haven't given me many details. Demi!? Really? Since when do you give him nicknames?”

Anya felt heat rise to her cheeks and looked away, unprepared for the conversation to take such an abrupt turn. Her thoughts flew to how her unexpected friendship with Demetrius had begun.

“It was… kind of weird,” she said nervously, playing with her fingers. “After my extra class, I found him and Segundo getting into a car. Segundo was obviously irritating, but out of the blue, his brother offered to take me home. I didn’t accept, obviously, because I didn’t know him. Days after he helped me when I had my breakdown, I ran into him at the library, and since then, we started talking more and, well, we’re pretty close now.”

“Aha!” Becky said, clearly enjoying the situation. “And now it turns out they have nicknames for each other, like they're best friends forever.”

Anya let out a nervous laugh, shrugging.

“I don’t know, it just happened. He started calling me Any, and I… Well, I responded with “Demi.” And it stayed that way.”

“Ok, I see,” Becky answers, raising an eyebrow, amused.

“It's not what you're thinking right now, Becky. Nothing weird is going on. We're just friends. Demi's helped me out with some things... and I feel comfortable talking to him, just like I feel comfortable with you,” Anya said, looking out the window of the limo, as the city lights flashed by in the darkness of the night.

The soft purr of the engine and the luxurious comfort of the seats created an intimate atmosphere inside the vehicle. Becky, sitting in front of her with a satisfied expression, leaned forward a little, clearly amused by her friend's response.

“Ha, I can't wait to see the face Damian will make when you arrive and he sees you with Demetrius,” Becky said, her tone dripping with mischief. “He won't be able to process his jealousy when he sees you two together.”

The atmosphere inside the limo felt tense but filled with anticipation. Anya whipped her head towards her friend, her brow furrowed in confusion as the soft glow of the outside lights cast shadows across her face.

“Jealousy?” she asked, trying to process Becky’s comment. “Damian can’t even stand me. I don’t understand why he would be jealous.”

Becky leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs gracefully as the limo glided through the streets towards the Desmond mansion. Her eyes sparkled with that spark she had when she felt confident about something.

“Trust me, you’ll see when we get there. That ‘stay away’ look he gives to his brother every time he's next to you is no coincidence, Anya. He’s burning up inside, even though he tries to hide it,” she said, drawing a sly smile.

The limo stopped in front of the imposing Desmond mansion. Becky, with a playful smile, looked at Anya, who took a deep breath before stepping out. The entrance was lit with elegant lights, and the soft sound of music and conversations came from inside.

“Ready, bestie?” Becky asks, adjusting her dress. Anya inhales deeply, exhales slowly, turns to see her friend and nods as they both enter.

As they entered the room, all eyes were quickly drawn to them. Becky, radiant as always, walked confidently, while Anya tried to maintain her composure. The decor was luxurious, with warm lights and tables adorned with flowers. The party was in full swing, and among the guests, the Desmonds stood out.

From the second floor, Damian was talking to his friends, Ewen and Emile. While he half-listened to the conversation about a new game, something caught his attention: Anya's entrance. Dressed in an elegant dress that accentuated her figure, Anya looked even better than he had imagined. Damian was absorbed for a few seconds, losing track of what his friends were saying. But, true to character, he tried to ignore her, turning his attention back to Ewen, pretending that nothing had changed inside him.

“Everything okay?” Ewen asked, noticing Damian's sudden silence.

“Yeah, sure. Nothing important,” Damian replied, though his tone betrayed a slight discomfort.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the second floor, Demetrius had also seen Anya. Unlike his brother, he didn't hesitate to go downstairs to approach her. With a calm smile and his typical serene air, he descended the stairs and headed straight for Anya and Becky.

Damian, who was still trying to concentrate on the conversation with his friends, couldn't help but catch a glimpse of Demetrius approaching Anya. A pang of annoyance flared up inside him. He didn't understand why his brother had gotten so close to Anya. "What's the need to have her around?" Damian thought. "I shouldn't care... but why do I care?"

"I'm going to get more juice," Damian suddenly muttered, interrupting his friends' conversation.

"Juice? Really?" Emile asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly puzzled.

Damian didn't answer, already walking down the stairs with the glass in his hand. Although his excuse seemed simple, the truth was that he couldn't stand to see his brother approaching Anya without doing anything. He walked down with a firm step, trying to keep his composure while his irritation ate away at him inside.

"Water, young Desmond?" the waiter asked Damian, interrupting his silent storm.

"Juice," Damian replied, almost growling.

As he filled his glass, he could hear the soft laughter of Anya and Demetrius behind him. The sound alone was enough to make his mood worse.

For his part, Demetrius, with his usual calm, continued to chat with both girls.

“I’m glad you came, Anya, Miss Blackbell,” he said with a slight smile. “Thank you for joining us tonight.”

Becky, aware of the tension in the air and seeing that Damian was nearby, didn't miss the opportunity to stir things up further.

"Oh, you're welcome. More like thank you for convincing Anya to come," Becky said with a sly smile, casting a subtle glance in Damian's direction.

Damian listened to Becky's words. His face tensed instantly, and as the waiter finished filling his glass of juice, he felt irritation growing inside him. Without saying anything, he turned around and walked back to Ewen and Emile, annoyance clearly reflected in his expression.

As Damian tried to get back into the conversation with his friends, Bill Watkins arrived to greet the girls.

“Becky!” Bill exclaimed excitedly as the girl turned around and saw the blond man addressing her. “Good evening. Anya Forger. Desmond,” he bowed respectfully as a greeting to the other two, who greeted him back. “Becky Blackbell, would you like to be my partner for the dance?”

Becky, surprised, hesitated for a moment. She didn’t want to leave Anya alone, especially knowing how uncomfortable she felt in that kind of situation.

“I don’t know…” Becky murmured, looking at Anya.

Anya, noticing her friend’s indecision, smiled calmly at her.

“Don't worry about me. I'll be fine with Demetrius,” she said, although something inside her made her feel a little nervous about being alone with him.

Becky, calmer, accepted Bill's invitation and they headed to the center of the room for the dance, but not before making a sign to Demetrius that if something, even minimal, happened to her best friend, he would pay the consequences. The lights went out briefly, and the music changed to something slower. The entire room revolved around the couples who began to dance, but Anya didn't feel like joining the tumult, not because she didn't want to, but because she couldn't. Forger watched them dance from a distance, a slight sadness beginning to appear inside her. Seeing Becky enjoying herself on the dance floor only reminded her how little she could do the same due to the crowd.

Demetrius, attentive as always, noticed Anya's expression and decided to intervene.

"Remember I told you to come with me to look at some papers?" he asked her quietly, with a soft smile. Anya nodded, curious. "How about we do it now?" Demetrius suggested, looking to give her a break from the hectic party.

Anya, grateful for the change of scenery, accepted without hesitation. They both left the main room, leaving the crowd and laughter behind, and headed towards a side staircase that led them to a huge room on the second floor, an elegant office that exuded authority. However, before they could look through the papers, Demetrius made her an unexpected proposition.

"Before that, I have a little surprise for you," he said enigmatically. "Close your eyes."

Anya, eyes still closed, felt the atmosphere around her shift slightly. The soft sound of Demetrius’ footsteps echoed through the room, and in the background, the music from the party continued to filter through, though much more distant now. The calm surrounding her was an immediate contrast to the bustle they had left behind below.

“It’s okay, Anya, you can open your eyes now,” Demetrius told her in a soft voice, almost in a whisper.

Anya blinked, slowly opening her eyes, and the first thing she saw was a wide terrace stretching out in front of her. Open glass doors gave way to an outdoor space bathed in moonlight, which fell delicately over a huge garden. From the terrace, the gentle night breezes caressed her skin, and the sight of the sprawling field of flowers and trees was more than she had expected. It was as if the world had suddenly changed, from the oppression of the party to the intimate silence of the night.

“What do you think?” Demetrius asked with a calm smile, watching her reaction. “It’s not very noticeable right now because it’s nighttime, but if you saw it in the mornings or evenings of spring, you’d think this garden was worth it.”

Anya couldn’t help but let out an exclamation of wonder. She didn’t care if it was nighttime. The garden was beautifully kept, with stone paths winding through the flowers. In the center, an illuminated fountain cast a soft glow over the foliage, and from there, the distant murmur of party music reached them, but without disturbing the peace of the moment.

“It’s… beautiful,” Anya said finally, her voice barely a whisper. She couldn’t believe that, within such an imposing mansion, there could be such a serene place.

Demetrius watched her for a moment, enjoying her surprise. Then, with a kind gesture, he extended his hand towards her.

“Since we are alone here, and away from all the hustle and bustle…” he said in a calm tone, “would you like to dance with me?”

Anya looked at him, still a little stunned. The gesture was unexpected, but in that instant, something about the way Demetrius asked her made her feel comfortable, safe. The serenity of his voice, the way the wind caressed her hair and the soft music in the background gave the moment an air of magic. Unable to contain a small smile, she nodded slowly.

“Yes... I’d love to” she replied.

Demetrius stepped forward and gently took her hand, leading her to the center of the terrace. With the moonlight as their only witness, he wrapped her in a gentle embrace, and they both began to move slowly to the music drifting in from the hall below.

The slow, gentle rhythm of the dance between Anya and Demetrius continued, as the night breeze gently caressed their faces. She felt light, almost as if time had stopped moving at that moment. The music, barely perceptible from the party, set the pace for their movements. The quiet of the place, far from the noise and prying eyes, gave her an unexpected peace. Demetrius carried the rhythm with elegance, and Anya felt comfortable, something she had not anticipated.

With each step, she realized how different it was to dance on that terrace, under the stars, with the moon illuminating the garden around her. It was not the pressure of a hall full of people, but something much more intimate. Demetrius guided her with a gentleness that seemed to reflect his own calm, and for a moment, Anya forgot about everything else: the party, Damian, even the accumulated tensions of the week.

After a few minutes, they both began to slow their movements, until they finally stopped, enjoying the silence that filled the air. Eye contact between them held for a moment longer, and it was the girl who broke the silence first.

“I'm glad we got out of there for a while,” Anya said, taking a deep breath. “I knew there would be a lot of people, but I wasn't expecting so many.”

“I know. Sometimes you need a little peace,” she replied calmly, as she leaned lightly against the terrace railing. “Crowds can be exhausting.”

Anya nodded, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. She was grateful for that moment of respite, away from everything the party imposed. Then, Demetrius' tone changed subtly.

“By the way, Any…” he said, his voice lower, almost as if he was carefully choosing his words. “How are things with Damian? I know he's been more… how to put it? Intense, lately.”

Anya looked at him, surprised by the unexpected turn of the conversation. She hadn't expected to talk about Damian at that moment, but Demetrius' question echoed in her mind. She had noticed Damian acting strangely, but hadn't found a clear explanation.

“I'm not sure what's wrong with him,” Anya admitted honestly. “I just feel weird about him, and I don't know if it's because I spend time with you or if it's because of something else.”

Demetrius nodded thoughtfully, without taking his eyes off her.

“Damian doesn't like to lose control of situations,” he commented, as if he were thinking out loud. “And you... well, you're someone important to him, although he would never admit it.”

“Important?” the girl asks incredulously. “But... we're just classmates,” she answered with a doubtful tone.

Demetrius let out a light laugh, looking at her with a mixture of patience and understanding.

"Believe me, Any, you're not just a classmate to Damian," he said, with an enigmatic smile, letting his words hang in the air, as if he knew something that she still didn't fully understand. “I know it, I bet Becky knows it too, and now you know it. Now all that's left is for him to realize it.”

Anya felt her heart skip a beat at Demetrius' words. How could what he said be true? She couldn't help but keep her mind going back to the moments she had shared with Damian, those little gestures, furtive glances and touches that she had tried to ignore. But she had always attributed it to her imagination, or to a simple coincidence. She had never seriously considered the possibility that Damian could reciprocate the feelings that, secretly, she was beginning to develop for him.

How could she believe something like that? Damian had always been distant, proud, and cold. Even in the few moments when he seemed to care about her, he would quickly put up a barrier again, protecting himself behind his arrogant attitude. However, there was a part of her that couldn't deny what she felt. A part that, despite the constant fights and his haughty attitude, kept thinking about him.

“It's hard to believe what you're saying,” she finally said, her voice soft, trying not to give too much weight to the conversation, “but for now I'd rather not think about it. I came here to relax, not to complicate myself further with this.”

Demetrius nodded, understanding. The idea that Damian could have feelings for her friend was overwhelming. Anya didn't know how to handle it, let alone how to face it.

“I understand. But believe me, Anya, everything will be revealed in time,” he replied with a reassuring smile. “And if time doesn't work out… Then we'll have to use an ace in the hole,” he said, looking at the girl because she knew what he was referring to. “Now, how about we go back before Becky sends someone to look for us and makes a scene?”

Anya laughed lightly, the tension she felt moments before dissipating a little.

“Yes, I think that will be better,” she said, and they both began walking towards the terrace door, ready to return to the hustle and bustle of the party. For the moment, all she needed was some peace, to get away from the emotional dilemmas that came with Damian. Tomorrow she would consciously process what Demetrius told her and they would both see what they would do about it.