A Thorn in Twilight

Chapter 3

What. Was. I. Thinking!

Damian, back at his table all sweaty and red, regretted all his life choices dating back from 9 years ago when he attended the school. He had known how nervous he got around Anya, especially when she smiles that grotesque, immature, and unnecessarily cute smile. Gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath and concentrated. If the boy wanted to stay an imperial scholar, he'd have to devote all his time and energy to studying, barely leaving his usual 6 hours for sleep. But Damian couldn't get the rosette out of his mind.

Unsurprisingly, his henchmen noticed his sudden change in attitude.

'What's wrong, boss man? Did that short-legged peasant insult you or something? She won't get away with it, I promise!'

'Ewen's right. I could've sworn you were fuming red with rage earlier.'

Damian ignored the two's fussy comments, and proceeded to quiz himself on english.

'Sepal...leaves that surround the petals, abhor...to feel hatred at, riposte...er...argh!'

He collapsed onto the tabletop in exhaustion, wishing the clock would tick slower. He slothily flopped his head sideways, leaving his minions in utter shock.

'Bossman! M-master Damian, wake up please! How are we ever going to move forward without you...!'

The uninterested boy stared boredly at the two, waving them off and dismissing them to their own activities. He took a quick peek at the pinkette at the table from across, ears rosy red as he watched her abnormally sway from side to side in content.

Anya furrowed her brows, stealthily sneaking a quick glance at Damian. She wasn't expecting him to be staring back at her. Catching the noirette off guard, he hid his face under his sleeves, hoping Anya would notice. Except, she did.

Second son likes me. Huhuhu~ Soon, we'll be friends and Chi Chi can achieve world peace!

At this point, Damian was already flushing, cheeks heating up as he contemplated whether or not to speak with Anya again. He avoided the girl's curious gaze as Damian rubbed his temples furiously, as to cool down the temperature of his body.

Anya, on the other hand, was observing all his thoughts shadily. She cackled to herself, turning back to Becky. While the girl was explaining the whole plot of Your Lie in April, Anya turned her focus to Becky's food, attempting to steal it with great success. Munching on sauerkraut*, she felt the need to puke, even greater than in the morning. The pinkette spat out the dish, gaining her weeb friend's attention.

'Uh-hey! Anya-san, was that my food you just puke out? Eughhh...Can we have a staff clean up on table 12?'

4 janitors consecutively came running with mops and wet tissue while Becky scolded Anya for wasting such luxury food.

'Okay, that was just not fair. I got you your own meal, Anya-san. Why didn't you enjoy your perfectly fine sweet caviar toast I bought? I can't believe you can be so rude, Anya! Please refrain from touching my sauerkraut.'

Reading her mind didn't help at all when Anya realised they were genuine feelings. Heck, Becky had to stop herself from saying more to her friend, in worries of their friendship faltering. A tear streamed down the girl's face, much to Becky's increased concern.

'W-w-wait, that's not what I meant! I'm...I'm sorry, Anya-san I-'

'Sorry for eating your sour-cot, Becky.'

Becky burst into tears, a mix of gratitude and gratefulness that caused a chemical reaction. She hugged Anya so hard, nearly choking her to death as her salty tears stained her friend's uniform.