Damianya Vignettes

Pinky Knuckles

(when writing this, i listened to this audio:: )

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The class of Cecil hall were now much older in age than when they first started school. It's been 10 years since then, so now they've all reached the ages of 15 and 16. 

Damian had grown quite a lot and was very tall for his average age. He become more stoic and hidden in emotion, that doesn't mean he doesn't feel any, though. just that he simply hides it all under is "cool" facade. Emotion is vulnerability, and vulnerability is how you become weak and easy to defeat which is what his father always said. As always, Damian wanted to utilize his lessons and advice as often as he could just so he could get some sort of acknowledgment through him.
His emotions for Anya had never changed, only this time, they were understood and accepted through Damian. Eventually he was able to process what they were and avoided eye contact and touch as much as possible. Leaving an emotional distance as much as he could handle and muster. Of course, sometimes he just couldn't help but crave for a touch so simple. The brush of a hand when passing a pen, the brush of shoulders when walking through a crowded area, or Anya tripping over her feet causing a bump between them. He wanted an excuse to touch her, but needed to keep cool. 

Anya was still as innocent as ever, smarter than when she first began school, of course. She grew to become more observant and understanding of one's thoughts after a while. She still didn't understand much, however. With the help of Becky, she knew what love was and what it meant, but since it was Becky, she of course loved going on about the over the top gestures that Anya never notices the small ones offered by Damian.
Since they grew, she took more notice of him as a person rather than an operation. Although she still aimed to help her Papa, Loid, she understood that he was after all, a person and felt pity that he was related to someone so evil and had no idea. Unless... he does know.

Their teacher, Professor Henderson was a legend in their school and everyone knew how much time and energy he spent on not only the school's reputation, but the students. Alas, he was very old, and the year before, he got very sick. Only recently did his time come to an end. And so, the school organized an assembly to tell the students of the news and his legacy and how the school will move forward without his guidance. This taught the younger grades about death, even though they wouldn't understand it still. For the older grades, they were already aware and believed the assembly was a waste of time. But that still didn't disregard their respect (and fear) of Professor Henderson.

Everyone sat according to their grade, hundreds of chairs lined up in order of age and of course, Imperial Scholars had to stand the whole time on an upper balcony looming over the chairs. as they were a role model of respect and elegance. 
Anya, emotional as always, trembled her lips and sniffled. On her right was Becky who pouted and huffed in boredom, but felt concern for Anya. She didn't know why, but Anya always took death personally. She knew that she always wanted to prevent death, but couldn't get it through to her that it was inevitable. Anya believes she could help save the world, and Becky cherished that side of her because the world needs innocent people.
On Anya's left, was Damian. Damian's arms were crossed as his eyes stayed narrow and shifted throughout the room. Looking at the walls and paintings, not fully listening to the assembly speaker.

"As those of you who don't know, Professor Henderson, a long time teacher and counselor member, has passed as of a few days ago." The speaker man announced. "We organized this today to tell you the story of his life as a way to give respect, and thanks to such an elegant instructor." He stated.
Anya stared at her lap and chewed on her lower lip. She didn't want to sniff too loud or blink as the tears would fall immediately. She tried to blink only half way as the tears built more and blurred her vision all together. The vision of her hands became fuzzy as she scratched her thumbnail.
She shook out a sigh, trying to get air in and out of her lungs properly. Why couldn't Bond tell me in time? She wondered. If he showed me, I could've told Mr. Henderson to go to the doctor, and then I could've saved him.

She hiccuped and the teared that filled her eyes dropped and landed on her hands. What if I can't save Mama or Papa either? Or Becky? Or the world? Can I still save the world? Her mind wandered and overwhelmed her.
Her lashes were soaked and her eyes were red as ever. She swiftly wiped the remaining tears and looked up at the man who was speaking. Still chewing on her lip, attempting to blink away any more on coming tears.

Damian glanced with his eyes on the shaking girl next to him. For once, his gaze softened. His always furrowed brows and narrowed eyes loosened and opened slightly more. He knew she was an emotional wreck since day one. No surprise to him. But a tinge of empathy leaked from his face.  He clicked his tongue and looked forward. She's in her head. He thought as his eyes scanned the room. Everyone was either bored out of their mind counting the ceiling or floor tiles, or showed too much genuine interest in Henderson's story. Too focused to pay attention to what was goin on around the two.
This feels wrong. He continued in thought and looked down slightly to where he could glance at his and Anya's hands. Should I...? He wondered and offered the thought of taking her hand.
That shows vulnerability and emotion. He shook his head and reminded himself of his father's words, but this time, his own actions and morals took over. She needs someone... he pitied.

Constantly going back and forth between his own and his father's words and morals, Damian watched as his hand inched slowly towards Anya. They weren't far apart, their chairs were touching. The only thing separating the students were a couple mere inches.
He watched as his hand hesitates and stops when only a centimeter away from Anya. The tip of his pinky barely touching the fabric of her dress. At this point, Anya's eyes were closed tightly as tears streamed. Her hands were at her sides balled up into tight fists. the blame was too real for her. Her own thoughts were too loud to listen to somebody else's.

"Tsk" Damian gritted and felt his face heat up as his chest felt anxious. He looks away and hardens his gaze, staring at the speaker man.
Only his pinky lifted, and the tip of his finer grazed Anya's knuckle.

Anya felt the foreign touch and shot her eyes open. She knew who was next to her, but couldn't bear to look and see if it was really happening, or if it was in her head. But it wasn't. Damian's pinky finger barely rested on top of Anya's. Grazing hers in as much of a comforting motion as he knew possible for him.
His pinky...is warm.. She thought and finally looked at her left hand, which was now no longer in a fist, but relaxed and loose. The touch was simple. It wasn't grand or special, but it gave Anya and unfamiliar warmth. It was different to Becky's comfort or her Mama or Papa's. This was different, but she couldn't figure out what or why.
Anya's pinky moved. Only a centimeter, but enough to where both of the teen's pinkies were intersected.

Anya sighed shakily and sniffled as her eyes stung. Damian, feeling more confident, curled his pinky finger. Making them connect even more as if holding a pinky promise. Is this too much? Is this too much for me? I don't know if I can handle this... Damian widened his eyes and his face turned red realizing what he was doing. His mind became so blank he almost forgot where he was or what he was doing. It was almost as if his body went to auto-pilot.
But before he could make the decision to pull away, he felt more touch. Both hands moved closer. Now, his pinky and ring finger was on top of Anya's. 

They both looked at their hands. Not daring to look up at each other. Anya's hand was fully relaxed and laid out calmly at the chair. Damian then curled his fingers. Almost interlacing them completely with Anya. Anya cherished the warmth of his hand. She didn't understand what she was feeling, but she didn't want the warmth to go away. So she curled her hand as well.

Damian freaked out. His mind raced but no proper thought could surface. So what did he do?
Damian looked straight forward. His gaze no longer soft as he fully placed his hand over Anya's interlacing them completely. Anya continued staring, curling her fingers as well and watched as Damian's thumb gracefully stroked Anya's hand in such a comforting motion. She signed deeply, not knowing she was holding her breath for so long. So exhausted from holding back her tears and sobs, her head facing Damian's shoulder, she leaned her head forward. Resting her forehead against his arm. Focusing only on his thumb and the warmth that radiated from him.

I like this... They both thought.

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i hope this was alright. if you liked it let me know !