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The first raindrop slid down Damian’s cheek, swift and precise, although, his focus wasn’t on the rain, but her, his eyes fixated on her like nothing else in the world mattered to him.
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Life was..different, off. Aside from the regular routines of ‘being a Desmond’ and ‘upholding his duties’ something was different. Not in school, nor at home, the routine couldn’t be any more predictable, perfect, just like everything in his life was and had to be. In his life, there was no room for mistakes, no room for anything to go wrong, his life was a script, and one wrong line could ruin everything.
Of course, a script can only be edited by its dramatist, and in Damian’s case, that was his father. As ironic as it sounds, his father never actually arranged any of this for Damian, it was more of an unspoken rule, an expectation that would get one disowned if not lived up to.
And then there was Anya.
Anya Forger didn't have a script, no rules, nothing holding her back from being her. She never cared for what anyone else had to think, even if it would tarnish her reputation, because for her, life was about living, not living up to anyone’s expectations.
Just living.
To Damian’s surprise, he realized what was off, what the edit in his script was, or perhaps, who caused the edit.
Her.
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The rain was setting its rhythm into a light shower, and her smile only seemed to get wider, though Damian didn't get why, he felt a smile creeping up on his face.
“So, are you gonna stand all there looking sulky and stare or will you actually sit down with me?” She asked, her voice cutting through the sound of the rain, she was still looking ahead, the same smile on her face.
He stiffened, a blush of embarrassment creeping up to his face, “I-I wasn’t staring!” He blurted out.
She scooted over and patted the spot next to her, signaling for him to sit next to her.
“You’re missing out, y’know, you can swallow your pride for a bit and just live,”
His brow raised up in confusion, was there something he was missing? “Missing out on what?” He asked, his curiosity piqued.
“This,” she said simply with her eyes closed and her body swaying in a slow, lulling rhythm, “The rain, the quiet… the moment. Don’t you ever stop and just, I don’t know, exist?”
She finally looked up at him, with those sweet emerald, green eyes of hers, genuinely curious.
Damian blinked, exist? Of course he existed, he was an imperial scholar, the model student, the perfect son, but then again, he wasn't sure that was her definition of existing. Now that he looked at her again, he noted how happy she was, something as simple as a light shower of rain made her so happy. He noted how carefree she’d always been, how joyful she’d always been, even in a situation where he couldn't even fathom how someone even managed to find happiness in such a situation, she was always there to prove him wrong. she always found the light at the end of the tunnel, and he wondered if maybe there was something to her words.
Maybe she was his light.
He took a seat next to her and huddled his knees to his chest, he thought about what she said, trying to wrap the idea of living, existing around his head.
“The serious look usually suits you, not this time though, what’s on your mind Sy-on boy?” She looked at him with an expression that broke his heart a bit, she was actually concerned for him. No one had ever genuinely been concerned for Damian, not even his parents, and he couldn’t speak about what was troubling him with Ewen or Emile. He didn't know how to take it. “I’ll listen, and i could help with whatever’s troubling you, that’s what friends do, y’know?”
He felt a rush of emotions flow through his mind. Friends?
“What did you mean by that?” he asked, his eyes observing the rain.
“By what?”
“To exist. What did you mean by that?”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but her gaze held something else. Pity. Pity for the poor boy who seemed so lost, trapped in a life that wasn’t his own.
She opened her mouth and closed it again. What could she tell him? She placed her hand over his, in an attempt to provide some semblance of comfort.
He felt his face heating up at the sudden contact, but he didn't withdraw
“Existing is just being here, like really being here,”
“That doesn't make sense at all,”
She spread her arms and started swaying “Existing is simply just..enjoying the moment, without worrying about what the future holds, at least that’s my definition,”
His mind took a halt at her words not worrying? He was a scion of one of the most influential families in Ostania- A Desmond, of course he had to worry! He knew he shouldn’t be taking advice from the girl who barely passed any of her subjects- except classical language for some reason. Then again, this was the very same girl who always seemed so happy. Even when she was getting failing grades in her studies, she was still happy, not because she got a bad grade, but because she knew that there would be something else to smile at.
If anything,
He was jealous of her.
It annoyed him.
It intrigued him.
It confused him.
How did she do it?
His tongue spoke without his permission “how do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“How do you live without caring?”
“I never said i don’t care”
He shot his gaze at her, then what did she mean? You can’t not worry and care at the same time, it doesn’t work that way.
But she did prove him wrong, what if she could prove him wrong yet again?
“Caring doesn't mean you’re obliged to worry, I care about my papa and mama, I don't worry about that.”
“They’re your parents that doesn't count”
She looked at him like he had said something profound, then burst out in laughter
Did she seriously find this funny?
“You really just don’t get it, don't you Sy-on?”
She stood up from her place under the tree, the rain still pouring, but not too hard. He genuinely thought she was fed up with him and decided to take her leave, but she proved him wrong.
She turned around to face him with a soft smile on her face that spoke volumes. “Dance with me.”
Huh?
“You said you didn’t know what it means to live, I’ll show you,”
He looked at her as if she had said something absurd, “Dance? Anya its raining you’re going to get sick”
She pulled him into the rain anyway.
She spun around in the rain, already starting to get her hair wet, a huge smile creeping up her face. “Come on! Dance with me!”
While this wasn't exactly where he saw a dance taking place, part of him seemed to not mind.
“You idiot! You’re going to get us sick!”
“So what? Sometimes, you just have to relax and let go,”
She spun him around in the rain, his shoes beginning to get muddy, but he decided it wouldn't hurt to take her advice just once.
Each move they made was silly, uncoordinated, whimsical, his moves stiff at first, but with enough coaxing from Anya, he started to be himself. He didn't care that his hair was sticking out in different directions, he didn't care that his uniform was soaking wet, he didn't care.
Step after step, move after move, Damian could feel the weight on his shoulders slowly get lighter, and it was because of her. The innocent laughter of the two of them filled the courtyard. Both of them were disheveled in appearance, but they were living, and that was all that mattered to Damian.
“See! I told you that you could loosen up a bit! I haven't seen you this happy in ages,” she said with a soft smile and sincerity in her eyes that made his heart flutter.
Her smile, radiating in the cloudy skies, was more than enough to make him realize who was his new dramatist.
And he knew this dramatist would let him write his own script.
In the midst of their dancing, he spun her around, the rain being a halo around her, her laughter a contagious echo. He stopped to look into her eyes, her soft emerald, green eyes, the ones he could lose himself in.
She looked at him with a bewildered gaze.
He inched in closer,
and planted a soft kiss on her cheek.
Her cheek was cold, presumably from the cold of the rain, but he could feel a bit of warmth. As he withdrew from her, he saw that her face had become a bright shade of pink, similar to her hair. He as well felt the heat creep up his face.
“I-I uh,” he stuttered
And Damian Desmond took off running.
He ran and ran and ran, until he reached an area that was closed off. His heart was pounding. He felt his palms clamming up. Did he really just do that? Did Damian Desmond really kiss Anya Forger? What were they now? There were questions running a mile a minute in his mind, but they came to a halt when he realized why she did all this for him.
Why she offered to listen to him.
Why she offered to comfort him.
Why she offered to dance with him.
And right then and there, Damian Desmond learned what it means to really live.
*fast forward a week later, Damian and Anya both caught a cold from the rain*
Bonus scene:
“Did you get it on camera?”
“Shut up I'm trying to see”
“Let me take a look!”
Becky, Emile and Ewen were all hidden in a nearby bush watching the entire scene unfold, and of course, had to take photos, how else would they remind the soon-to-be couple of their first kiss?