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"Where's Boss Man at?" The taller blond scanned his timetable once more. History society was always at 12:55pm in the classroom next to the library. The shorter one glanced at the pinkette perched at her favourite nook beside a tall bookshelf she used to lean against for her lunchtime naps when mathematics had her eyes drooping.
"You should check the dining hall," Anya mumbled, nose buried in an upside down chemistry guide. "I think Sy-on said he was hungry."
"Ewen, it's beef bourguignon today. Of course he's in the dining hall."
"But didn't we just chec-"
"We can get seconds while we're at it!"
"Just say you're hungry, Emile..." The pair dashed out, cloaks flapping behind them.
Once out of the telepathic field, Anya peeled back the cloak on her lap. Two hazel eyes blinked up at her as she ran her hand through his short dark locks splayed over her skirt.
"Are they gone?"
"Yeah, you can stop hiding now," she smiled, patting his cheek. The book flopped shut onto the blank lined sheets, idly sitting beside a zipped up fluffy pencil case.
Instead, he shuffled his head closer to her, lacing his fingers through her own. The mantle flicked back over his face. Damian's chuckle was muffled under the fabric. "No, the Desmond name haunts me out there, so just keep this on me, okay?"
"Okay," she started, returning to the empty work on the desk. "But we're getting ice cream later, then."
"Says who?"
"Girlfriend privelidges," she blurted, giving him a peck under the cape.
A sneaky hand curled into her hair before the scion drew her close once more, returning the gentle kiss, listening to the elicited hum of satisfaction from his sweetheart. A shudder of warmth rippled over his skin and her eyes fluttered shut. Anya pulled back slightly, revealing scarlet tinted cheeks. Damian felt a need to kiss the little dimples as her cherry blossom strands tickled his neck.
Somehow finding himself pulled into her strawberry mint allure, his mind spoke out before he noticed. "Cute," and the rest of his breath left him.
A pink tint rushed over the swell of her cheeks. "You're awfully sweet today. Are you free on the weekend?"
"I've already cleared my schedule."
"Good." Pen absentmindedly scratching over the paper, Anya huffed, "I was going to drag you out anyway."
"I love you."
"I love you more."
"No, I do, idiot."
"Want to test that?" She poked challengingly. Who was he to refuse?
The same footsteps pattered back towards the desk a few minutes later. Emile blinked at the doodles swirled over the book and the two satchels plopped on the bench - one adorned the familiar sheep keychain accompanied by a pink heart hanging beside it. The other with a silver football and a green heart clasped with a backpack hook.
He imagined them like magnets, clinging to the other fitted perfectly.
Just like how Anya did when Damian's arms practically engulfed her with his chin on the top of her head.
After all, she was his favourite place to be.