Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dear chi chi

The day you left is a day Anya's head often replays.

I hope the nightmares will stop eventually.

You were just gone, dead… but me and mama knew the truth. The tears and overall shouts through the breaking of years held secrets, Anya still hears them… Anya should have done a better job… . Yeah… I know, I’ve always known. Anya is sorry she failed you. Failure….heh, I didn’t need to peak to know how you chi chi felt at the mission’s failure…about me. Mama still misses you, mamas hugs used to be warm throughout the cold nights without u chi chi. Anya should have seen it, she was never the good choice for you. But heh….. It was all just so much fun

Everything you brought me chi chi was a dream, a dream I used to see in books and my show. Through the lens of our TV is how I coped everything as a child, maybe Anya would of been better off dead

Anya never spoke about it. Even to mama, anything related to you chi chi made mama sad. When everything had fallen, mama trained me, it was hard and often thought I’d die. The pain eventually got better. I love my work now, heh you’d be proud to see how far I’ve come, I hope you are.

Becky was always an amazing friend, but Becky will never understand. She always protected Anya, always a good friend, and then there was him.

Over time Syon grew, he grew tall even with a deeper voice. Hehe Syon almost reminds Anya of you chi chi! But chi chi is perfect, chi chi will always be Anya's papa. His always been infuriating, so close but so far, fucking shithead. Wanna hear something?, Syon has feelings for Anya, that night with him confirmed it. He’s head song a thousand words, a million promises and praise, it was euphoria . Of course, what did Anya expect the outcome to be though. The word is cruel but this time it will be different, Anya will take care of things, pinky promise. I’ll give Ostania a show better than mamas.

Syon is still Anya's target, always has been.

Once the plan is carried out, things will finally start coming into place. It’s time for the Ostania to pay for all the pain and suffering, they want me to kill him. How desperate wise has fallen since your demise chi chi, unfortunately it was inevitable for them escape. Anya has better plans and never been one let others have there way over mine, he’s my reward. But even though it was all he's fucking fault, Anya can forgive like the cutie she is. They won’t control me, I’m sick of being on a leash to something. Syon will be thrilled! I'll take good care, He won’t ever want to leave, contributing to a good cause I’ll call it. I’ll break him, physically if I have too, he’ll be so happy. The way he held me and whispered his devotion planted everything.

I’ll make you proud, we can all be a happy family again

I love you

From your daughter

Chapter Text

News papers, televisions and radios fizzled with the daily news. He flickered with the channels while being pampered in his suit. The workers worked quickly and elegantly. Amber eyes flicker to his reflection, he was ready, he had to do what he must, the devotion he craved for years was finally being given. All the late night, all the hardship, all the slow years carving his imagination to perfection. This is what he’s always wanted, why he was born. Deep down he was depressed, this wasn’t how he wanted things to go, it was almost perfect, it could have been. The medication and overwork all for this, it could have been perfect….he tried to ignore the heaviness inside his heart. Alcohol, medication, even he’s blade couldn’t sway his feelings today

Today was too important, today was his wedding day.

From the very beginning they were a curse to each other's lives, the very reason for each of their downfalls.

An addiction taking their souls by the throat

Every touch, every interaction, every glance and thought

Pure euphoria, no could ever live up to

Anya Forger was one thing that Damian's mind twisted for years. Her stupid smirk, her stupid cotton candy hair, her beautiful face, and her stupidly attractive body ACK, he was doing it again—that infuriating woman!!

But it’s undeniable about his feelings towards the commoner; he lived for their interactions. Whether it was walking past her, their daily bickering, or simply watching her drift off to sleep in lectures,

She kept him on his feet.

Could you believe that pig called Becky actually called him a stalker. Who does that woman think she is with her obsession with a stupid love show? It’s not stalking!. he..he..he’s looking out for her! There friends! Not that he would ever admit that; he was always keeping her at a distance, and she should feel honoured that he’s even doing such a thing. Damian Desmond is looking out for his peers like the gentleman he was raised to be.

That stupid beast messed with his mind, making it hard for him to enjoy other women. Let alone hold any attraction, even at night when his excitement would only be centred around her. Maybe he followed her a little from time to time and inhaled her hanky from time to time, but no one had to know that.

The Lord had mercy on any male who looked her way. His discomfort would be sinisterly painted on him, and he’d refuse to accept any of it.

Besides she was utterly in love with him, hah! Always asking to go over to he's house. A commoner liked her pff, besides, her clumsiness and manners had no limits.

It was inevitable that she would experience bullying, maybe if she submitted once in her life, she could rise the ranks. But no man would come anywhere near her, he wouldn’t allow it. No, she was dumb but strong, a force to be reckoned with. She didn’t need saving, and if she did, he’d be there. He strongly believed nothing could pull her down, but she didn’t deserve to know that.

Imagine his parents' reactions to him even bringing up someone of her status as a potential partner. HAH not a chance, she was outrageous and gorgeou- GOOFY!. Not a single care in the world in that tiny head of hers

He could never admit that her attachment to him meant everything to him. He craved everything about her, she made him feel important in her own way, and he’d break anyone who laid hands on her. Days without her sucked because, as much as he hated it, she was one of the only good things that kept him going in his dull, dark world.

It broke him how they slowly fell apart, it was his fault.

The morning was pleasant and sunny with a cool breeze. They were in their last year of school. He waited for class to start, eyeing the fluttering leaves near the window with his chin on his palm. The view deserved to be painted, and the green was beautiful. It’s always been his favourite colour, maybe because it reminds him of her.

She was late as usual, but when she walked in, his heart broke. Classmates whispered there thoughts and the worried glances from their teacher, having never seen Anya forger so broken.

Becky immediately began pampering her. But Anya barely spoke, communicating only with nods or shakes.

She looked thinner, and her face was pale. Her posture was so stiff that it looked like it hurt her to walk.

She always smiled through difficult situations, whether it was her mocking smirk or not.

Not this time

Loid Forger had passed away.

Any mask she held broke

Her bright eyes, which used to be so full of life, had faded.

He remembered the man as everything he wished his father to be, despite his status.

Anya received Mr. Hendersin's comfort, along with Becky by her side 24/7.

Regret stabs him for not going to her more.

What could he do after all the years of calling her names and being cold to her?

Becky's harsh, piercing gaze screamed cowardly.

Weeks passed, and she never cried once. Anya Forger walked the halls coldly; she became an even bigger master of compartmentalization than him, to as well Becky.

Until one day, she snapped. A bitch who loved to open her mouth at those she thought were under her Becky wasn’t there; she was completely vulnerable, and he should have arrived at the scene quicker.

Anya had completely shattered a table in the dining hall. She inhaled sharply through flared nostrils and bare teeth like a beast. Her fist dripped with blood while her pupils dilated into pinpoints.

A devastating sight to her cheerful self.

Fear and judgement from peers had sent her running, he assumed. She never did well with crowds.

His feet moved on their own, grabbing her despite her objections. To hell with class, he's pride or anything else. He held her tightly until her bruising hits calmed down and she finally let out a strained loud wail.

It was just them, hidden from everyone and everything.

Hours passed, and they shared many tears. Her teary face always made his heart race, silently pouring each other's grief and heartbreak. Hiding from the world in the school's fancy farm barn, he only let her go to build a fire in the barns chimney.

Anya laid a mate out to sit while he tended to the fire.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She stiffly shifted but offered no response.

“Anya..I..” How utterly pathetic; he couldn't form any words. Anya kept her gaze on the floor, fiddling with a line of ants.

Loid Forger always knew how to play his words wisely; during the school monthly therapy sessions, the man was always held high in praise and elegance by all peers and teachers. Including him

Fucken hell, say something she's right there!

Anxiety swallowed him to a coward.

think…think…think…think..she..um

“Damian’’

oh…

Wordlessly, he turned to her.

Years he played with the thought of her speaking his name, it happened so softly and quickly, did he imagine it?

"Yes,” he breathlessly whispered.

“Hold me”

Such a simple request, yet so powerful.

Anything for you

Leaning over, he gently pulled her shoulders together in a light hug. Rubbing the small of her back. Her smell was enough for him to roll his eyes back, and the wounds she inflicted beautifully still stung him. He held her face, foreheads touching, and for the first time, he let himself go.

Whispering his devotion silently through his eyes until she leaned in and kissed him

I cherish you.

I want a lifetime with you.

I adore you.

I am better because of you.

I need you by my side.

I cannot stop thinking about you.

My love for you is unconditional and eternal.

All of the good in my life is because of you.

One thing led to another. So alive and open, all his feelings had come out, but the final straw, “I love you,” wasn’t voiced. It was at the tip of his tongue as they made love.

It was euphoria, it was magic, even.

They fell asleep in each other's arms.

He was disgusted with himself, apart from his grief over Loid Forger, they had never been so close. Everything happened so quickly before he could even breathe. Their relationship had changed, but Anya had also changed. Not one word was spoken, he hoped she would. But it never happened.

Screw everything, he was nothing but the second son, destined to be in the back anyway. For once in his life, he was going to do something for himself; he’d plan to confess to her at the dance. Never again, he’ll let her be sad on her own.

I want you. I want you so badly.

However, I should have tried harder.

His older brother, Demetrius Desmond, has been assassinated.

He was immediately pulled from school, from everyone, and from her.

At first, he yelled and protested, hearing that he’d have to graduate in private. Until his own father spoke to him, A glass of whisky in hand, his father had poured for him. Years he craved his father's praise, and when the words “I know you’ll do me proud, Damian '' left his lips, he had no words besides "Yes, father". It was everything he wished to hear as a child.

War had broken out, and all defences had gone up. The second son wasn’t allowed to leave the house during all the commotion. His father had entrusted him, he had to be a man and pick up the work the elder deceased Desmond had left.

The 1969 war broke out

Gangs formed, lives lost, buildings lost, the poor scraping at the bottom and the rich at the top.

Two months went by before Damian finally wrote to Anya. It pained him to have left her, but it was for her safety, he hoped she was okay.

No response

Weeks turned into more months, and his worries worsened if she was okay or angry at him.  He never meant to ignore her, no form of contact was to be made outside.

Finally desperate, he sneakily called Becky Blackbell. Calling Anya would be too dangerous, but the dance had passed, and officially, by paper, he had graduated privately.

Squeezing her hanky and preparing any insults to be thrown, Becky Blackbell spoke to him for the last time.

“Three days after you left, Anya and Yor’s building was caught up in the bombing both were confirmed dead.”

Chapter Text

165 days until the public peace treaty

September 2nd

“All eyes on the target?“

“Confirm,”

“Red apple one, two, three, and four are planted, active, and ready?”

“Yes, sir,”

“Re-rounder us on the routes of security."

“At least 32 in total armed rifles in the venue halls spreading every fourth, each 5 floors. They have 2 in each room besides the kitchen and bathrooms. And 3 hidden at the clock tower, about 10 cop cars following the target."

“Confirm the 7 wise agents we have hidden in the zone."

“2 following the target, three in security halls, and two with the girl."

“All eyes on him. Don't take your eyes off him. In 5 minutes have the clock tower team move; I'm not taking any risks.

“Kid, are you sure this is enough—”

“Yes, having more agents would prove to bring more risk; our objective isn't the prime minister.”

The man chuckled, “You sure hold high expectations for her."

With a final glance at the screen, “Without a doubt,” he said darkly before walking away.

Amber eyes gazed at the crowds through the glass car door. He kept his expression stoic. A wedding to the upper class is described in simple terms as a work deal. It's how every member of his family came to be, and it was to be expected of him. His soon-to-be wife, Camilia Wellington. First daughter to the Wellington family, known landowners through most of OST farming lands but holders to the media. Nothing goes past them. Her father played a key role in the negotiation of the 1969 bombing. He's a major key asset towards Donovman's unity party, a well-respected and trusted man to Donovman. Their second son is engaged to Becky Blackbell. Having them in his campaign would prove to bring great success.

Funny, almost everyone was more excited than him.

Wasn't that that he hated the girl? She was a proper girl who carried her image wisely. Quiet, polite, and well-mannered, he had many dates with her over the months of their engagement. Camilia, 20 years old, blond with blue eyes. He rather grew to like there talks

She was everything he could need for the future, but…want… was a different story.

No one could ever replace her.

But he had to admit Camelia was patience and overall respectful. Which he very much appreciated

“Hey, boss man, you awake?" Ewen pitched his waist.

‘Eh, yeah, sorry,’

“He's in Lala land,” Emili chuckled.

“Dreaming about your wedding night?”

“Disgusting, Emili.” Ewen lightly slapped his arm.

Emili and Ewen were brothers to him. More than he ever knew Demetrius to be, war had split them up, reuniting a handful of times in the last five years of being separated.

“Come on, Damian, cheer up; it's your wedding.”

He held his head low; Emili was right; he needed to get a grip.

“Hey, you don't leave for your honeymoon until the 4th, right? Why don't we sneak out and go drinking? I know this amazing bar down in the central square with a view over Georges Lake, right by this venue!. We haven't gone in ages; I and Emili are at hotels nearby."

“How inelegant of you, Mr. Ewen, suggesting such young actions,” he couldn't help the smirk pulling his lips.

“Youngsters to end,” chuckled Ewen.

“Oh! I know the bar! , it serves the best Steckerlfish and pecan pie ,” Emili almost drooled.

“Now you just want to stuff your fat ass, Ewen,”

“Hey! Rude!”

“Shut up, both of you!”

Their whispers were starting to draw attention from the guests.

“Sorry, boss man,” both boys straighten up.

“ Been feeling kind of giddy since we walked in.”

Those idiots, but he supposed they were excited.

“11:30 pm we meet up.” He didn't meet their excited, idiotic stares.

After the bombing, it was Emili and Ewen who rushed to him. He was more than grateful to them.

The venue was almost filled; the mood was lifting until a familiar face walked in, just as it was about to start. The three boys tensed up.

Becky Blackbell

She walked coldly, bodyguard side to side, wearing face masks along with Becky. Fiancé, shortly following before her, keeping distant. Becky’s engagement was announced after Mr. Backbells stepped down from the position of CEO due to cancer, a contagious cancer that took her mother's life when she was young. Her father’s illness had her be isolated to be sure she never caught anything or her fiancé.

Becky wore a purple, long-sleeve, mediaeval, floor-length dress with pigtails in braids.

She offered him no glance, her eyes barely touched with makeup. Completely blank.

He’d heard from Camilia that Becky hadn't taken the engagement well, and he couldn't blame her. Her father was to be moved to another country to tend to him, the same place as her mother had spent her last years in treatment before passing.

She had wanted to go with him.

Leave this war zone.

He had wanted to reconnect with her again, but in this day and age, word gets around faster, like wildfire. Rumours during their engagements weren't good for him or her.

The rest of the ceremony went by silently till it was finally time for the bride to walk down the aisle.

Looking through the crowd, he glanced over at his parents, blank and stoic as always. Would he be like that during his children's wedding? He didn't know. A better part of him wanted to be better for them, but the other part of him didn't know. Children to their family was essential, especially since he was an only child now.

Her veil covered her face as she walked, the church's mirrors painted colour to her white dress.
The more she walked, the more his imagination drifted.

He imagined it was her under the veil.

He imagined it was her that stood by him.

He imagined her beautiful green eyes staring at him.

When he raised the veil, all he saw was her.

Breathtakingly gorgeous and beautiful.

He felt lightheaded thinking about it.

Time felt like it was slowing down.

“Do you take Anya Forger to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the priest’s voice echoed.

“I do,”

“and do you—”
He’d remembered finally convincing Jeeves to take him to Anya's building to see the remains; the nightmares lasted for months afterwards. The screams, it's almost like he could hear them now. And feel it—

“Take Damian Desomd as your lawful husband. Till death do you part.

He could feel blood on he's body

He could feel the warmth of the liquid on his face.

He could see her on the floor.

The more he fantasised, the more his head became more and more light, almost like he was high and floating.

He should really stop letting his mind sway off; it isn't good for him.

A woman with familiar pink hair stood before him, pulling her mask down.

Gun in hand, coated by the woman on the floor

Each step she took banged his eardrums.

Those beautiful eyes and sweet smile; he felt himself slipping into darkness as he heard

“I do, Syon,”

Chapter Text

163 days until the public peace treaty

September 4th

Sleep was something he often struggled with, especially in school. Doctors eventually explained his unhealthy habit of not being able to relax affected his sleep. He had a bad habit of not putting down his work until he was satisfied; only then would he allow himself to rest. But even then, Damian enjoyed the night, smoking away and letting his thoughts run freely over work or old memories.

He was lonely, but there was some peace that came with it.

Perhaps a companion could help; he remembers his old stuffy helped him sleep. During year six camp, he remembered snuggling up to Anya's back when the whole year slept together at camp. Her strawberry-smelling hair snoozed him to sleep. Until the morning came, and he woke to her smug ass face. Safe to say they both got in trouble for waking the year up.

Long days and nights had challenges, sweet memories, and delusions; he’s way to cope with it all.

His future wife’s companionship could maybe help him.

But the passion he felt for her was honestly unhealthy; what does he care, though? She was always the better part of his life. He knew he needed to eventually grow out of it and let her go. It wouldn’t be fair on his fiancé, ah, but that was a scary jump. Perhaps one day he’ll find the courage to do it; I can feel her behind my guilty consciousness, touching my shoulders with such softness that it leaves my heart light as a feather or suffocates me of all my breath.

My head is my space, so why limit myself?

Of course he’d often fantasised what it would be like to hold her in his arms, to wake up with her in his arms.

She was a tiny person; he’d guaranteed she’d fit perfectly in his arms. Her smooth skin and her sweet, familiar strawberry scent.

So warm, so smooth, he could smell it.

Like he was a child again.

He inhaled deeply, humming in delight.

“Pervert”

Huh...?

“Scion is overheating, Anya.”

Eh

“Oi, shithead, I’m talking to you.”

HUHHHH?!??!!?!??!??

Gasping, he flung himself, half-naked, onto the floor, hitting a funny bone quite painfully.

DFFXCQE-

“Shut it,” the woman groaned.

Pink hair slid lazily as the woman sat up on her elbows, a black singlet hugging her; she peered, visibly tired.

“How!...What!...An...anya!...” He stumbled his way up, taking in his surroundings.

Holy shit, he must have died.

“You didn’t.”

He actually had died.

“You didn’t.”

Fuck, he was so young.

“You didn’t.”

“IM A GHOST! Or something? No, I must be a ghost; that's why I'm seeing you. Is it really you?

Silence

Without sparing another glance, the woman rolled to her side, pulling the covers with her.

“Mhmmm, 5 more minutes.”

Not more than 5 seconds of peace before the scion was jumping on the bed, pulling the covers, and caging himself on top of her.

“Waaaaaaa cold!” Anya shrieked.

“Holy shit! Holy shit!” Diving into the woman

“I can’t believe it, I… I… I’ve waited so long to see you again,” he sobbed, taking no notice of his own weight.

“Myeep wgwet orff,” tapping his back.

Translation: Yep, get off.

He didn't.

They stayed for a while; eventually, she let him take it all in. Holding her with so much care, scared at any moment she could disappear again

She was still so beautiful; her signature horns still remained.

Her face was pale, her emeralds still dull, but it’s her, it’s Anya, she’s here.

Right?

“Are you real?” he sniffled.

“Mhm.” The woman stared back, hooded, tired eyelids.

“How can I even believe this? This is real… this is crazy!”

“Hmmm,” the woman blankly stared back.

“Ow ow ow ow ow!”

“There you go.” Anya sat up after getting a good pinch at the man's cheek.

“Jeez, how could this be real!?!?? She… she had died!! They had her funeral!?!?

The woman looked like she was about to pinch his cheeks again, so he paused his thoughts for a moment.

“Where are we?” sitting up

“Safe house,” the woman

“A safe house?” taking in his surroundings on the brick walls and kitchen

“Berlin was attacked by bombings again; we were able to rescue you in time.”

“We??”

“My people, let’s say,” the woman stretched up.

Hopping out of bed, the woman made her way to a small kitchen.

Wait, he’s friends and family!

What…happened… He doesn’t know.

Where is he?? He doesn’t know.

He can’t remember.

“I’m hungry; you know how to cook?”

The bacon simmered lightly as Anya pulled 3 slices of bread along with butter and jam.

“Extra crispy, please,” the girl grinned, dipping her pinky finger on the jam lid and taking a taste.

How did this happen?
This entire situation baffled him; here she was acting like they were roommates. Like nothing had happened, had he gone crazy? Was he dreaming the whole time?

“Oi!”

“Oh!” Flipping the bacon over

“Looks ok, nice save,” resting her head against his bare shoulder.

What the hell is going on?

Any more of this, and he was going to pass out again.

“Anya is good at mixing things,” sliding over to the fridge to grab 4 eggs. (Almost dropping one in the meantime)

The place they were in was a simple flat, consisting of two rooms. The bed, kitchen, and bathroom.

Small….

No TV or phone, only a shelf consisting of novels.

“It’s not much, but I’ll do for now till it’s safe.” The woman nodded, trying to scoop the eggshell that fell in the mixing bowl.

The bliss of being in her presence again was slowly fading to the reality that another attack had occurred.

He’d have to quickly make a stand with his father over the matter. Make sure his friends are okay and he’s fine.

OH NO

Being half-naked with an ex-lover was not a great look.

No, no, no, no.

Did they?

No, they couldn’t have???

He felt horrible about his unhealthy mentality towards Anya, but this? A wave of guilt washed over him; he didn’t even know what on earth happened!

His memory is so fuzzy he can’t recall the possible scandal that could have taken place ON THE DAY OF HIS WEDDING.

“Anya…what happened?” He turned to the woman pouring the eggs into the saucepan. Her back remained faced away from him.

“Anya—“

“I’m hungry.” Her tone was firm.

A silent drop it, almost.

He gulped down his questions.

“Set the plates, would you? I haven't eaten a proper meal in two days. Let's have a little catch-up.” She smiled, facing him.

This is going to be a long meal.

Chapter Text

Damians pov

Silence

I was familiar with it.

You could call it the norm almost.

Even on rare so-called family dinners

Silence

The times I'd glance from my plate to people I shared blood

My brother was always calm and collected, with not a shred of a wrinkle in his suit or manners.

I'd admired everything about him: his skills in academics and social media; his image was crafted to perfection.

My mother was obedient but timid.

I caught on, along with my peers; she was mentally ill when I was 14, and news spread in every article that she believed her father was an alien with powers and they were coming to take over the world.

Her tarnish on the Desmond name was a wound to remain, and Father sent her away to a mental institution diagnosed with a psychosis disorder; my visit to her didn't come until 4 years later. I left wishing I hadn't come.

Father

You had the ability to hold anyone's breath with just your presence alone.

I loved that about you.

I felt pride as a child to be your son.

I still do.

Most of all I wanted your praise, even if I withered ill on my dorm desk, studying like it was oxygen.

Just a nod would make it all worth it.

That I had my life on the right track

Right now isn't the case with the meal in front of me.

Silence... has never been more insufferable than now.

That's what it means to be a Desmond father's voice that would echo through the depths of my soul.

end of memory

"Well, what are you waiting for, Desmond?"

Joined up right from the man's thoughts, he looked to her in disbelief; he swore he saw a different expression for just a second than the cheeky smile face she wore.

"P...pardon?" The name almost felt like a cold slap out of his thoughts as he peered at the woman who sat across

'Dig in, heh; you need it.'

A sly smile touched her lips, comfortably resting her hands on the table; she's even more beautiful. Her curly, now long hair that covered her sides suited her extraordinarily; it complemented her womanhood now, compared to when she was a child. She's not a child anymore, but he still remembers the first time they met, and she mocked his bullying with a cocky smile. This smile sent shivers down his spine. This smile almost felt threatening; the plate in front of him looked appetising, but the anxiety rendered him full. Sensing his distress, the woman touched the hand gripping a silver fork, sighing.

"Naw, here I thought we could share a meal like old times, but I guess the shock wore off. Oh well," Anya said calmly, the smile never leaving her lips.

*Why are you smiling?

*It wasn't that I wasn't hungry; I, in fact, take pride in my own cooking; it was comforting. Reminds me of my yearly camp trips with Emili and Ewen. We'd cook fish we catch, desserts, hot dogs and drink beer.

Rubbing the man's hand, he did find the small gesture comforting; they never did get to share a meal like this. Perhaps he would have indulged and smiled at the thought, but with the shock wearing off, he was now processing the position he was in.

"What happened?"

* Surely with how calm she's been this whole time, it can't be that bad.

*right?

"An assassination attempt was made on your wedding day."

*Wh…at *This can't be – this can't be *This can't be happening again.

*Emili...Ewen, oh god, my family

"As well as another bombing attack, I was able to pull you out in time."

"P...pu...pull me?? What do you mean, you pull me?"

Well, this definitely wasn't what he was expecting, nor what he thought reuniting with Anya would be like – one minute getting married, the next with his dead first love.

'This is why I wanted to eat first; the gas isn't fully out of your system. It's better to inform you after our meal." She let go of his hand to actually poke at the eggs she was eyeing sadly, all warm feelings of being reunited washed away and a cold splash of anger submerged.

"ANYA!" The screech of the chair scraping across the floor at the man's sudden stand barely fazed her.

"I can't believe this right now! What the hell is going on?"

Anya peered blankly at him.

"Let me keep it short." Pouring a jug of hot milk in a cup.

"An rebel assassination was made at ____pm in Terrination's venue reception of the second son of the current president. It's been reported your venue was gassed, invaded, then eventually bombed to ash.

She poured a packet of cocoa powder into her cup.

"Sorry, Syon,' grabbing a spoon, her moves were so smooth and casual as if she was telling him about her day.

"I wish I could say there were no casualties." It almost felt like she was mocking him; the clicking on the teaspoon stirring her beverage was too loud for his comfort.

"My father? My mother? My brothers, my fucking fiancés." The woman raised her eyebrow at that sentence.

"Are you telling me they're gone?' The last part came out as a squeak.

"Nothing has been confirmed," she said, sipping her drink, lightly smacking her lips at the taste.

His patience snapped.

"CAN YOU TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY?" Her attitude was starting to get to him; a couple of days ago he was supposed to have started his life. So many questions were spinning in his head; she's been gone for years, and he had it in his head he would never see her again! A couple of days ago, Anya Forger felt like a dream he could never have, and now all of a sudden she's back and his family is gone?

"Who even are you, and where have you fucking been all this time, forger?"

She had the nerve to let out another sigh; he didn't mean to have an outburst. This all just felt so overwhelming, and he honestly felt pathetic, like being spun on the palm of her hand. This was a dream but at the same time a nightmare.

Taking a deep breath "Listen, ok, I'm so happy that you're alive and ok, but my brothers, my family, Camelia, almost everyone I knew was at my wedding; I can't just push that thought to the side!! I need to be out there!! My life is out there."

"Damián, it's best to take this one at a time, as hard as that sounds. We have a serious issue out there, and as for me, I'm not ready to talk about what happened, but I am now working for SSS. I'm sure you've heard of them." setting her drink to the side to finally look at him.

oh no

Holy shit, this isn't good. Taking a step back "Anya I shouldn't be here..." I feel like I'm going to be sick. The name alone was bad news; SSS were to handle the dirty work in the streets. Father always told me to question their loyalty, but he never did trust anyone, so I guess –

*How on earth did you get work for the SSS under my radar, which could mean one thing?

*fuck.. fuck

"H...how? How did you get work there?

"A story for another day; eat something."

"Anya, I'm the prime minister's son; my family needs me."

"I don't think you're getting it; it's war out there. We need to wait for the national unity party's call. It's dangerous for you to go anywhere."

*I'M SUPPOSED TO BE A PART OF IT

"I can't do this, Anya. I can't just sit here. If it really is war, then even more reason. I'm a Desmond; I'm supposed to be a part of the prime minister's team, and one day the next—"

"Let me remind you," her tone sounding more uncharacteristically firm. "I work for SSS, and I've been personally assigned to you. That means I work technically for your father."

"But... but why? Why am I here with you? Why would he want me here and not by his side at a time like this?

"Guess they thought an old friend could cheer you up through the chaos."

I don't know how to feel about this.

Placing a hand to the face, he felt flustered and hot.

I need a drink, fuck.

"I assure you I take my work seriously. I'm not the same girl, and I'm well capable of looking after you," the woman tilted her head. "However you need," did that have a double meaning.....

*Gulp

Leaning back, "But for now you need to wait until further notice; it's best to not ask questions and just let the answers come to you."

Gesturing to the chair

"Eat something before it gets cold."

"I'm not hungry."

A sort of lie

"Syon, many people out there aren't as privileged to share a hot meal like we're doing, and I've had a challenging couple of days, so can I make a little request?"

He didn't think of it like that.

She's been looking after me these past two days.

"Can we try to have a little normality for a little until I have to take off?" She reached a hand to the man.

"You're leaving? When?"

'When duty calls'

This woman, she isn't just Anya anymore; she's a woman far from the airhead who lacked in classes.

He missed the "asshole" that was whispered while letting the info sink in; he somewhat understood her now taking in the table of food. Something about this feels wrong; I can't put my tongue to it. My head fucking hurts. No, it must be the gas, and I'm starting to get lightheaded. Maybe a meal will do me good.

He sank back down and took her hand with a huff.

"ok"

Things will be ok...right?

Chapter Text

A year before the wedding

Standing at the door, he had second thoughts about fixing his hair for the 100th time.

*Get a grip.

Taking a long breath, he entered the dining room.

“You wanted to see me, Father?”

“Join me, Damian,” suggesting the empty seat across the table.

He sat at the table; the chef had prepared lamb, mash, vegetables, bread, and deviled eggs. He dug in slowly; it wasn't often Doverman invited his son to dinner. Damian knew full well these dinners were to inform him of some matter, but since this was over a dinner, it wouldn't be something serious, as after dinners would be the time they settled for the night.

These times were enjoyable.

He wished Demetrius was still around to be a part of it; he'd imagine all three of them, maybe Mother too, sitting together like a family again.

Never did he get to know him properly.

Memories emerged of how much Damian wanted to have a chat with him on the phone or in school; he always brushed him off. It'd be lying if he were to say he wasn't jealous, but generally he did admire his brother.

Nevertheless, the meal was peaceful; he should make the most of it.

“Damian, you've been serving these past years of your youth well.”

*Wow

He felt his ears burn from the rare compliment.

“As you know, apart from your excellent education, your public image and connections are just as important and can be done multiple ways. It will serve as a great aid in this government party. Since you are of age, I think it's about time to find a wife for you.”

He was grateful Father wasn't looking directly at him.

A big sweep of anxiety coursed through him. Throughout high school he avoided the women that threw themselves at him, not because he wasn't attracted to women and definitely definitely DEFINITELY not because of the pink head; he was just a gentleman and no whore compared to his friends. He wasn't a virgin to a woman's touch, but besides Anya, he kept his contact with women friendly, partly due to not having his male reproductive system destroyed by Becky Bell. Girl could stare daggers to kill.

That was the past, though.

His heart ached at long-gone memories in school.

But what could he do now about it? Blackbell ignored his attempts to contact her after their last call, even to Emili and Ewen, which was a harsh blow, but they understood she perhaps just needed space. Not even at the few social party events did he see her, but her father confirmed she was alright, so I guess that was enough.

And while Anya was gone now

*No, no.

He wasn't about to go down that rabbit hole again.

Not again.

“Yes, Father.”

And so the blind dates started.

“I am bloody jealous. Why can't my father hook me up?” Ewen sulked.

“Not Lord Damian’s fault you have no game.” Munching on his fries

“Yeah, yeah, you keep stuffing that piehole.” slurred the depressed male

“You want some of my chips with that salty attitude of yours?” the large male snickered.

“You shut up! Lord Damian!” the "adult" male drunkly wailed.

“Oh sweet lord” The tipsy syon rolling his head to the ceiling

It seems like everyone except the bachelor himself is excited at all the ass he has lined up now.

Date after date I think it's been 20 this past month, I think….

He was utterly exhausted.

He arranged this to take a breath away from the strong stench of perfume.

Unfortunately for him, the timing wasn't good, as Ewen's girlfriend of 3 months just ghosted him. Emili, enjoying poking at the salty, sad cat, was the only one who seemed to be in good cheer. Probably because of his engagement to the Smiths daughter, Ewen was more popular with the ladies in school compared to Emili, so getting engaged first out of the gang was a silent hah, in your face! to Ewen from all times Emili rubbed it in his face at his game back then.

Sweet Karma

He watches Emili wobbling back to the bar.

“Can we have one peaceful moment without the word woman in it?”  Damian groans.

“Give Ewen some slack, wounds are still fresh, and I’m having fun Lord Damian,” patting his back with the free (better be clean) hand with a greasy burger in the other. He rolled his eyes at the sulky cat, suppressing a chuckle.

“ Excuse me! Could we have another 2 rounds?” handing a familiar card to bar

Is that mine?

“Have your date’s been that bad?”

“No no, it's just been overwhelming. I have no clue what I’m doing half the time!, and I don't know what to say! I've only been talking to old men the past 3 years. I just honestly just let them do the talking.”

“Take it as standard then; find a girl who you can engage in conversations with she's gotta be mature~ mannered~ and, as Mr. Henderson would say, elegant~ your not gonna find it immediately.”

“Hah, look at you, Mr. Relationship Therapist.“ Both the boys chuckled

This is what he missed but of course doesn't last long

“Sir, I can't serve you anymore. I think you've had enough. I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“Uh oh,” both boys said at the same time.

Yep, these were his friends.

Over the years many people tried to suck up to him; these idiots were included. At first they were no different but somehow ended up being the closest things he got; he’d back them up any day if they asked. He felt them more as brothers than Demetris himself, from how they've grown up together. The happiest moments of his life involved them, then at one point, along with Becky and Anya.

“Hi, my name is Camilia. You must be Damian.” tapping the man on the shoulder”

Taking the chair in front of him, he eyed her. She was blond with a respectable fashion sense, a white blouse, a long black skirt, and big jewel earrings. Some women he sat for dinner dressed in a way that left little to the imagination, God some even inviting to keep his bed warm for the night.

“Sorry for being late! Hehe, my bus was delayed.” She had an almost Irish accent.

“Bus?” That seemed a bit dangerous even in the rich parts of town.

“Yeah, I’ve lived with girlfriends over the past year. I work part-time at Mamoosh Cafe down in Alfords Point while studying.”

Surprising, it wasn't often you see rich rich families to allow daughters to move out after school let along hold a commoner job to get by

“What are you studying?”

“I’m working to get a history degree; my skills in that area got me 4 stellas in my last four years of school.”

“Oh, I think I remember you now.”

“Yep, yep, I was 2 years below you.” patting down her bouncy curly hair

He did have a faint memory of the girl coming second in a pie contest for the school fair. Each contestant had to get as many votes to determine the winner. She served him a delectable shepherd's pie that made Emili go back for seconds.

History though, huh? A cheeky thought crossed his mind.

“ I got 24 stellas from being first or second in history,” he smirked.

“Wowwww, ok, Mr. Show-Off.” she giggled

Without realising until after the date driving back home, he found to not be mentally drained afterwards, he even found himself chuckling a couple of times throughout their talk. They talked for a good three hours, and of course, like a gentleman, he called her a cab home.

“You seem to have enjoyed yourself, young master.”

“Think I did, Jeeves.” A small smile sprung to his lips.

While marriage was inevitable to avoid, perhaps it didn't have to be miserable. The concept of loving someone else felt heavily uncomfortable and tugged at his broken heart. Love was something he didn't think he could offer her but never realising until now that he didnt have to have partner but merely take friend as a wife.

That could enough for him.

They decided to go ahead and keep their relationship chast no further than pecks on the cheek.

A future with her seem where his father wanted him to go, so that's where he'd go, but he never did think, slipping in and out of consciousness, he'd be back on his wedding day with Camellia’s head rolling by his foot and an earth-shaking boom that shook the ground. Sinking deep into the abyss, he felt a sharp plague of panic surface him at the version to the shore of consciousness.

Gasps pull from him.

Salvia choking him

He couldn't move an inch of his body.

His blurred version consisted of blinding lights that painfully burned his eyes.

Faint noises rise as he feels something wrap around his mouth and he slips into the peaceful dark once more, floating no longer panicked and confused.

*Hold me someone please

“Are you feeling ok?” Stirring in the warm covers didnt sooths the deep trembles that pumped every inch of him

“Did you have a nightmare, Syon?” The pink-haired woman stared down sweetly.

Softly rubbing his trembling head he meets her soft green eyes.

What was that?