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His eyes wander aimlessly in the classroom, twisting his pencil in multiple directions. The black haired boy glanced downwards at the array of arched tables, following straight ones positioned in the middle. There, he sat with two of his usual friends—Emile and Ewen, both of which on the verge of dozing off. The stale air and the sound of the chalk scraping onto the blackboard was repetitive, a constant loop in the name of achieving the honorary title of Imperial Scholar.
A normal lecture, a ridiculously normal day.
Gripping the rim of his edged pencils, he reclines back into the shared chairs. Glancing over to the coral-haired girl, resting her plump cheeks onto the surface of her palm. A yawn comes over her, as she elongates her small frame into a stretch, a singular tear forming at the edge of her ducts.
How can somebody be so..
Damian's cheeks flush a reddish tint, whipping his head away whilst fanning the air around him as if to swat away the thoughts from forming.
Yet the palpilations beating within his chest won't halt it's acceleration.
He grips his ruffled head of hair, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. It baffles him that he first thought this would just be a childhood crush—one that'd strike his heart for a split second and quietly dissipate away. Because surely, a commoner like her couldn't attract the likes of him, THE scion of the Desmond family. Surely, he'd come to realize that there are far better suitors than stubby-short-legs.
And yet , this feeling stuck around. That subtle heat that flushed his cheeks, the rapidly increasing heartbeat that reverberated against his ears. That constant yearning he would experience everytime she neared.
It was sickening. The boy was enamoured with her from the very start—and was only starting to be truthful with himself now.
Damian sneaks another glance, his dark brown eyes reflecting the harsh ceiling lights. This time, her green eyes lay onto his irises—almost as if she could predict he'd look back. A daring smile lifts the corner of her cheeks, unfurling her curled fingers to gesture a wave.
Oh God.
Startled, he instantaneously turned away—the tip of his ears flushing crimson red. His neatly trimmed fingers clenched his beating heart—it drummed so loudly, the scion was convinced those surrounding him could hear it amidst the quiet classroom.
That's not fair, not fair whatsoever. How come I'm stuck with these feelings and she doesn't even realize she's at fault that I'm experiencing heart problems? Screw you, Anya!
A-not-too-subtle-frown contorts his face, shooting a glare at Anya's way.
Her eyes—as if unwavering this entire time—has kept staring at him during the entire ordeal of the internal ruckus he had made earlier. The girl's face was uncharacteristically bashful and flustered, averting her gaze towards the front of the classroom, scurrying to hide her flushed expression with strands of her hair.
What's with that... face?
Despite being at complete opposite ends the entire time, the pair had somehow telepathized their way through (though only one possessed such powers) a rather awkward exchange of glances.
The bells structured on top of a tower rang repeatedly—it's sound emanating throughout the hallways and surfacing into the refined walls of Eden Academy. The students leave, chin high up with immaculate confidence—elegance redefined into a flock of pupils leaving the lecture hall.
However, two anomalies became apparent in the scattering crowd. Hunching their backs to avoid yet another glance, appearing to be a completely melty mess.