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The rain came from nowhere.
They were walking side by side, shoulders brushing occasionally, him holding her bag of groceries as he walked her home.
It was a rare occasion that they met like this. He didn’t often find himself in her part of town and their schedules never really matched to find themselves like this but for once he was glad he’d taken Ewens advice and dropped his dry cleaning off at the little hole in the wall shop because now he was walking her home.
It had been a little overcast in the morning but it had seemed like the sky was clearing when he ran into her because the small ray of sunshine that fell onto her made her look so radiant, like an angel had just manifested in front of him.
Things were going so well and then the first few drops began to fall. He ignored it at first, brushing off the stray droplets from his face as he listened to her animatedly talk about how she saved a cat from a tree (the story ended with her getting stuck up on the tree as the cat ran down itself but she still considered herself a hero).
And then all at once, it began to pour down on them.
He didn’t have an umbrella on him for this unexpected rain and neither did she so they had ducked under the shelter of the bus stop. They were close to her home, they could either wait for a lull or make a run for it.
He wasn’t given a chance to ponder as she made the choice, stepping out into the rain and excitedly jumping into a small forming puddle.
“Come on, my place is close.” Her small gentle hands wrapped around his wrist and pulled him out into the rain, immediately drenching him in water as they ran down the sidewalk.
Her groceries were getting wet but she didn’t seem to care as she giggled manically as they ran and he couldn’t help the gentle bemused pursing of his own lips as he followed her — not at all bothered by the fact that he was wearing his good shoes or that his expensive watch was getting soaked.
They arrived at her building far too quickly than he wished but she didn’t let go of his wrist until they were standing at her door and she had to pull out her keys.
“I’ll get you a towel.” She said as she walked off into the one room in the apartment. He made his way to the kitchen and started taking out the items from her grocery bag. Everything seemed fine, except for the bagged bread that water managed to leak into but only the first few slices were wet so he went ahead and disposed of them. He’d treat her to a sandwich some time to make up for them.
“Duck.” She stood behind him now with a fluffy yellow towel.
He followed orders and lowered his head towards her and he just about melted as the warm towel met his head but even more heavenly was the feel of her hands running through the locks of his hair as she dried his hair.
She placed the towel around his neck when she was satisfied but then as she stood back she studied his whole figure with a calculating look. “You should probably take a shower and change into warm clothes. I think I have some clothes that could fit you.”
His mind raced to a dark place as her words made him consider the unsaid implication but he quickly shook his head as he realized he wasn’t being a proper gentleman.
“You should go take a warm shower first, I’ll be fine.”
It was at that moment he began to take note of the way the wet strands of her pink hair clung to her face and the quiver of her lip as the chill of the rain consumed her and the stubborn furrow of her brow as she tried to ignore it. Her skin turned translucent from the cold and it made her jade eyes pop even brighter than before.
She was a breathtaking sight.
“I think I like when it rains.”
She raised a confused brow at his words and shook her head as she turned on her heel, “Okay, stay wet if you like. I’ll be right back and don’t you dare leave!”
She disappeared back into the room and he heard as she entered the attached bathroom. He was still wet so he didn’t dare venture elsewhere in the apartment.
He had been here once, for a small apartment warming party she had thrown a few months ago when she’d moved in but hadn’t been back since. There were small changes from the last time he’d been here — more furniture to begin with. The couch in the living room was the same but it was now joined by a raggedy looking lazy-boy and some end tables that held mismatched lamps. In the middle of the room, the same wobbly coffee table he remembered resting a drink on that had almost spilled onto the wooden floor had he not caught it on time. There were mismatched pillows on the couch and throw blankets. In between the two windows looking out into the street was a large TV he remembered her bragging about proudly — despite being in a room full of rich kids who were already familiar with it. She had the randomest nicknacks scattered across bookshelves filled with manga and childrens books.
However most impressive was her movie collection, she had just about every movie he had ever seen all on tape. He could tell she took the best care of them because there was not a speck of dust in that section of the bookshelf.
He found his feet moving to observe the framed photos on the walls. Most were portraits of the Forger family over the years. But scattered between the larger photos were candid shots of Anya’s loved ones. He recognized her intense creepy uncle and the goofy scruffy one she’d introduced to him once. Shots of her parents caught in intimate moments she’d caught—dancing in the kitchen, staring at each other lovingly over coffee and simply just strolling through a park, hand in hand. Her old dog Bond was also prominent. And Becky. She was practically in every none family photo.
And then, much to his surprise, there was one of them together.
It was shot in their junior year. They’d been on an excursion hiking trip to Stella lake. They’d been assigned a project with partners and he’d pulled the short stick and been partnered with her (he’d of course had been happy about it but any project with Anya Forger usually ended with disaster). He remembers the day vividly. They’d somehow gotten lost after getting into an argument and then she had tripped and sprained her ankle. So he’d carried her on his back across the forest until they eventually made it back to the group.
One of their classmates who'd been assigned to take photos had caught a moment of them. Anya was laughing, her arm wrapped around his neck while he strained his neck turning to look at her, he remembers complaining about her always causing him trouble but unknown to him at the time, the corners of his lips had turned up in a smile as he looked at her fondly. He was embarrassed now, not having realized that he’d been caught so obviously. He had no clue that this photo had even been taken and wondered how she’d managed to get her hands on it.
He heard her coming out of the bathroom and quickly hurried back into the kitchen. He left a trail of water but he hoped she’d just brush it off as evidence of their entry and not his snooping.
He heard her rummaging through her drawers in her room and then her head poked out of the room, “Okay, your turn. No arguments, I'm not letting you get sick on my watch.”
“Yes ma’am.” He snickered as he approached her room. She was dressed in a long red backless sweater and some tights. Her feet were snuggly stuffed into some pink slippers.
She held out some clothes for him to take, “My dad left these behind.” She explained, and he winced, having realized she must have sensed his hesitance and curiosity. But he was relieved by her words. He didn’t know what he would do if they belonged to some unknown boyfriend.
“Thanks.” He took them and quickly shuffled into the small bathroom.
It was the smallest bathroom he’d ever been in, even the Eden shower and toilets had been larger than this. He didn’t let his eyes wander too far, knowing that a woman's bathroom was a private space and he was a gentleman.
He quickly took his shower and she hadn’t seen to mind at all that he’d be using her shampoos. She usually smelled faintly of vanilla and by the products in the shower he could see that she did in fact use vanilla based products.
She’d given him a fresh towel, pink this time, for him to use and he quickly dried and changed into the clothes she had handed him. The pants were a bit too loose for him but he dried off his belt with a dry rag and tightened them to fit. The plain gray shirt fit longer than he usually wore it but not too much to be ridiculous. He never usually dressed so casually so it was a bit strange to see himself in the mirror. After drying his hair to a damp state, he ran his fingers through them a few times to get some semblance of order before gathering his wet clothes.
“Let me take those down to the laundry room.” She reached for his clothes but he quickly lifted them out of reach.
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll just put them in a bag and return your clothes later.” He insisted.
“Are you sure?” She didn’t seem happy with his option and he couldn’t fathom why.
“Yeah.” He went to grab the empty bags from her groceries and stuffed his wet clothes inside. He left his shoes drying at the entrance. He should call a driver to pick him up and perhaps bring him an extra pair of clothes and shoes.
“Will you at least stay until the rain lets up.” She was holding onto the sleeve of the shirt now, eyes pleading as she looked up at him.
He was stunned by her sudden vulnerability but then he heard it, the faint rumble muffled in the distance.
Is she still scared of the thunder?
As if guessing his thoughts she began to blush.
She’s so cute.
He ruffled her hair, “How do you live alone when you’re still scared of thunder.” He teased.
“Just fine when it’s not raining.” She smacked his hand away and strutted over to her movie collection, “Want to watch a movie while we wait it out?”
“You can’t fool me, you just want to drown out the sound.”
They sat on opposite sides of the sofa but with each loud bang from the thunder, Anya crept closer and closer until they were shoulder to shoulder. One more and she’d practically be on his lap. The movie she’d chosen hadn’t been nearly as loud enough to block out the sound like she had probably hoped.
“Should have put on an action movie.” She grumbled beside him. He was surprised she hadn’t, it seemed to be her favorite genre but for some reason she’d put on a more artsy film than he’d been expecting.
He wondered if she had chosen it for his sake. She must have presumed he’d be more into critically acclaimed movies than cheesy action ones but the truth was he never watched movies. He was usually too busy to enjoy such a leisure and usually only went when Ewen and Emile dragged him to one. He didn’t have any particular taste and would watch anything no matter the quality. But even so, his heart skipped thinking she might have been thinking of him.
“We can watch one next.” He laughed.
The movie had lulled to a silent scene and suddenly the living room was filled by only the sounds of the ticking clock on the wall, the patter of the rain outside and Damian swore he could hear his own heartbeat. Maybe she could hear it too.
CRACK BOOM
“Eep!” She squealed and scrambled to hold on to something and suddenly her fingers were intertwined with his own and her face smashed into his shoulder.
He ignored his racing heart as he looked around, the thunder was only getting louder as it surrounded the area. He grabbed the blanket she had tossed aside in her scramble for safety into his shoulder and with his free hand threw it over both of them. It wouldn’t do much to shield them from the sound but she had been flinching from the sight of the lightning outside and he hoped this would at least distract her.
“Hey,” he whispered into the darkness, he could hardly see under it and the smell of vanilla from both of their damp hair was overwhelming but strangely comforting. He found himself resting his head on the crown of her head, “It’s alright, I’m here.”
“Promise you won’t leave.” She whimpered, squeezing his hand.
“Promise.” He squeezed back.
After several minutes, the sound of thunder grew distant but Damian didn’t dare move an inch.
“Remember when we used to go over to your house to study?” He smiled, thinking back to their times in school, “We were banned from the library because we wouldn’t stop arguing over functions and formulas.”
She giggled, “Yeah, you couldn’t believe Spy Wars was what I used to understand math.”
“I still think it’s ridiculous but at least you didn’t fail.”
“Not without great effort.”
“Yeah Miss 7 bolts.” He snorted, suddenly coming to a realization, “Funny how you had no fear earning those bolts but cower of the real thing.”
He flinched as she pinched his side, “It’s too soon for you to be teasing me about it.” She tried to sound angry but he could hear the smile in her voice.
“Okay you big baby.” He sighed, “But I kind of miss going to your house and almost dying of food poisoning.”
“Oh god don’t bring that up! I’m still embarrassed.” She dug her face further into him and now she was half leaning into him with her head in his chest, voice muffled, “I still get war flashbacks when my mom steps in the kitchen.”
He laughed, “I’m sure she’s improved since then.”
“She’s just now barely tolerable.”
Mrs. Forger had almost killed them all trying to use them as guinea pigs for her dishes but Damian still thought of those days fondly. Her food might have been poisonous but the love and care she put into them was so refreshing to him. He sometimes found himself feeling jealous of Anya. His own mother rarely ever spoke to him, he doubted she could tell him apart from Demitrus. He would’ve given anything to have her cook him a meal, good or bad.
Anya’s hand squeezed his again and he snuggled closer to her on instinct, suddenly wanting to be consumed by her warmth and rid himself of the dark cloud that loomed so hauntingly over him whenever he thought about his family.
“I think the thunder is gone.” She mumbled sleepily in his chest. Despite her observation, she didn’t move an inch.
“Yeah, I think so too.” He whispered.
His hand was still holding hers. He rubbed comforting circles with his thumb.
Neither of them moved.
The both of them jumped at the sound of a sudden insistent ringing.
They’d fallen asleep and somehow had ended up laying down. Anya was basically laying on his chest and they blushed as they both woke up and met each other's eyes. Neither of them moving for a second as they took a moment to process the situation.
Damian broke the moment first, pulling off the cover around them as her doorbell continued to ring. It was dark out now and the rain had stopped.
“Yeah, I’m coming!” Anya shouted as she got up, cheeks red as she stomped over to the door.
Damian couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so comfortable.
“Were you stuck under your bed agai—oh.”
It took Damian all but five seconds for him to realize what it looked like. Both of their hairs were a frizzy disheveled mess and their clothes were wrinkled and riding up and their faces swollen from sleep. Becky seemed to have the same realization by the scandalous way her eyes widened.
“Sorry am I interrupting?”
“Shut up.” Anya hissed, dragging her in, “We got caught in the rain and then took a nap.”
Becky smirked, “How cute.”
“Blackbell. Don’t you got other things to do — like mess around with some dumb male model.”
“Which one?” She grinned cheekily, sitting down beside him on the couch.
“What are you even doing here?”
“I always come over on Fridays.” She said matter of factly. Raising a brow, “What are you doing here?”
Anya gasped, now standing at the back of the couch, “I completely forgot.”
“Ouch.” Becky glared.
“Sorry!” Anya reached over and hugged her from behind. And the two of them fell into a fit of giggles.
Damian took this as a cue to make his departure.
“I should probably call my driver. Looks like the rain let up.” He stood making his way to the phone.
“Oh.” He tried not to get his hopes up but Anya sounded a tad bit disappointed. “You sure? We usually just cook some dinner and watch some movies.”
Damian looked over at Becky and shook his head. Cooking and watching movies seemed like a wonderful idea but not with Blackbell around. “Maybe some other time?”
Her eyes widened and gleamed with excitement as she nodded her head. “Definitely.”
After calling his ride, he joined the ladies in the kitchen.
“If you’re going to stick around for a bit, wash those hands and get to peeling these potatoes.” Becky commanded.
“What do you know about cooking Blackbell?” He asked but did as he was told.
“I’ll have you know that I’m taking a culinary course. This is just practice.”
Anya giggled and leaned over to whisper to Damian as she joined him at the sink, “She started taking an interest in cooking when we were kids after she realized my dad liked cooking.”
Damian joined in her laughter as he began his task at peeling potatoes.
Jeeves used to be the only prominent adult figure in his life so as a child he often followed him around like a shadow. He’d observed and on occasion assisted with his own meals so he somewhat knew his way around a kitchen.
“Wow you’re good at that.” Anya observed in wonder.
“Didn’t you know? Peeling potatoes is one of my many talents.” He grinned.
“Anya stop drooling and wash those veggies.” Becky barked. Damian caught Anya hurriedly whipping her eyes away from his forearms.
Becky was a bit of a tyrant, barking orders and scolding them for not doing the task up to her standards. The meal was about done by the time the doorbell rang again.
“Ah—that will be me.” He found himself disappointed and reluctant to leave. Despite Blackbells presence, the evening had been full of laughter and reminiscing of their days at Eden. It wasn’t often that the Eden 5 (as their odd group of Becky, Ewen, Emile, Anya and himself had been infamously named) got to see each other. He saw the boys practically every day but there hadn’t been much effort to gather as a whole group as he would’ve liked. “Next time we should definitely invite Ewen and Emile.” He found himself saying as he walked towards the door. A tupperware of some of the food they made and his wet bagged clothes in hand.
“Oh… sure that will be fun.” Anya’s lips twitched into a fake smile, one he’d become very familiar with over the years.
“Or maybe just the two of us.” He leaned in to whisper. Becky was keeping a sharp eye on them from where she stood in the kitchen and more than likely read the words from his lips but he didn’t care.
His heart raced as he leaned away. It was the boldest he’s been in his advances, as pathetic as it may sound. And he hoped she was on the same page.
“I would like that.” Anya whispered back, a more genuine smile gracing her lips now. “Have good night Sy-on boy.”
He smiled back, “You too Forger.”
It was drizzling as he walked out the apartment building but he couldn’t help but feel like he could bust out into song and dance — just like he’d seen in a movie once.
“Master Desmond.” His driver greeted. “How was your evening?”
“Wonderful,” He looked up, feeling a pair of eyes on him and saw as pink hair disappeared behind the curtains, “I really do like when it rains.”