Chapter Text
Diana thinks she’s starting to settle into her new routine at Eden’s Garden Academy. It isn’t anything close to the typical boarding school life she was expecting when she got her acceptance letter- since how could a killing game ever be typical- but she’s making new friends all the same.
Whenever she hears her doorbell ring, she lights up and goes to open it with a pep in her step, eager to see which of her friends wants to hang out with her. Today she hears the familiar sound again and does the usual, not thinking much of it. That’s until she catches a glimpse of blond hair and her eyes widen in surprise.
“Oh, Damon! Hi! I wasn’t expecting you,” she beams. “Come on in.”
“Hi, Diana,” he responds dryly but Diana can sense a hint of friendliness in there somewhere. She thinks she senses it, anyway.
Now that she thinks about it, Damon is the only person in the academy she’s spent the least amount of time with. She knows that he’s a little… controversial among the class to say the very least, but she also knows that he’s still her friend in spite of all of that.
“I was actually about to do some painting,” says Diana, pulling out a couple of small canvases and other painting supplies before sitting down on the floor. “I’m so glad I brought all my paint and stuff, it keeps me busy. Say, have you ever tried painting, Damon? It’s pretty relaxing! I think we could all use a little relaxation time these days.”
Damon hesitates for a moment. Diana wonders if maybe he’s worried about getting his clothes dirty. Much to her surprise, he sits on the floor with her. “Nope,” he says. “Never tried it.”
“Really? Not even once?”
“Fine, once,” he admits. “I had to take an art class in junior high.”
“Aaannnd what did you think?”
“I ended up spilling some paint on my vest. I was annoyed that I had to be there,” he grumbles. “…And also, a little annoyed at myself for forgetting to put a smock on.”
“Hey, it happens. I still get paint on myself too sometimes, haha! I mean, it’s not like we’re all fancy, submitting to galleries and stuff. You and I can just be… well, you and I! And paint whatever we want. What do you say?” Diana smiles and holds out a paintbrush for Damon to (hopefully) grab.
There’s a pause. Damon looks down at the paintbrush and back up at her a couple of times. Diana continues to look at him, almost pleading with him using her eyes. Soon enough, he gives her a weak nod and gently takes it from her hands.
“Yay! Let’s get started,” Diana is smiling ear to ear as she also hands him a blank white canvas and puts her watercolor palette between them with a plastic water bottle to dip their brushes in. “I was thinking maybe we should paint each other! It’d be kinda cool to have a painted portrait of yourself, huh?”
“I can barely paint a tree, let alone a person,” Damon says.
“Oh, c’mon… just do it for fun! Forget the part of your brain that needs things to be perfect. I once heard a famous painter on TV say that mistakes are just happy accidents. I don’t think either of us are ever gonna be painting on TV, so don’t worry too much!” Diana fully lies down on the floor, resting her chin in the palm of her hand and kicking her feet in the air. She invites Damon to do the same, which he does, this time with a little less hesitation. I guess he’s accepted that he might get his outfit a little dirty, she chuckles to herself.
With that, Diana starts making marks on her canvas in the shape of Damon’s face. Every few seconds she turns to him, focusing on the little details. The shape of his jaw, the intensity of his eyes. While she continues her work, she thinks she feels his eyes on her too, and for a brief moment they turn to look at each other at the same time. Oh gosh. For some reason she almost feels like she’s melting under his gaze, and they both quickly turn away and go back to painting.
“In my favorite movie when I was a kid, the princess had a magic paint brush, and she painted herself a dress for the royal ball! She escaped from her tower and danced with the prince, it was so romantic,” Diana wistfully sighs. “I always dreamt of having a paintbrush like that… I ended up painting a dress on my bedroom wall and I tried to put it on, but I couldn’t because… well. It’s just a fairytale thing! My parents had to paint over it.”
“Wow, they must’ve been peeved,” Damon laughs a little. “I know I would’ve been.”
“Actually, no! They kinda just brushed it off as a kid being a kid. I love that movie, though. It made me think I wanted to be a fashion designer. I ended up getting really into cosmetology instead, which is pretty similar to painting if you think about it! Except, someone’s face is the canvas. Pretty cool.”
The two go silent again, but the silence is surprisingly comfortable. The sounds of brush on canvas fill the room, and Diana is filling in the blank spots with vivid color. She uses the same green for his eyes as the snake tie she always sees him wearing, and as she turns to look at him again, the thought enters her mind that he’s kind of handsome. She can’t help but wonder what Damon is thinking whenever he turns to look at her as a reference for his painting. Is there any chance he’s thinking something similar?
After a few peaceful minutes, Diana completes her painting, sits up, and looks at it with pride. While she doesn’t think it’s a masterpiece or anything, she thinks she’s made something that does the boy in the room with her justice.
“Okay, Damon, let’s show each other our paintings!” Diana grins. She holds the canvas in front of him with outstretched arms. “This is you! I’m pretty happy with how it turned out.”
“That’s nice. I… I like it.” Damon gives her a nod and a small smile before handing her his canvas. “Here’s yours.”
“Oh, Damon!” Diana feels her heart get warm as she scans Damon’s painting of her. He’s painted her as what she looked like while painting him. Paintingception, Diana thinks. She loves the vibrant pink he used for her hair and eyes, and the focused expression he’s given her. “Thank you so much. I’m gonna hang it up on my wall! It’s lovely.”
She notices a faint hue of pink on his face but doesn’t bring it up in case that’d make him feel more bashful. Nevertheless, she continues: “You know, I think I like you better like this. When you’re just being yourself. Not the Ultimate Debater guy Damon Maitsu. When you’re just… Damon.”
There’s a pause, a slightly uncomfortable one this time. His facial expression darkens. “I worked hard for my talent. So many long days, long nights… I don’t need you dismissing it.”
“Hey, I…”
Damon ups and leaves, leaving Diana there stunned. She sits there, still holding his painting of her, wondering what she could’ve said differently and pondering her next course of action.