Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Ninety

At long last mercy arrived at the sound of the bell. It was break now, thank the gods. In her clickety-clackety heels, Miss Devon walked out of the class first. The haughty bitch. The rest of the class piled out of the room as Donna remained packing away her pencil case. Behind her, Jonathan shouldered his bag and pushed his fake glasses up his nose, waiting for her to finish.

Donna's heart thundered and she hoped to Hades that he hadn't developed super-hearing. Had he? Suddenly Donna couldn't remember. She fumbled over the zip of her school bag, fighting off a blush. Hiding her face in her hair, Donna finished, tucking her chair under the desk.

She faced the boy, his face rouged also. "So-uh- how was your weekend?", he asked, as the two of them walked out of the class. Glad for something to say, Donna just let her mouth get away with her, rambling on about every little thing- especially enthusing over the new camera Diana bought her.

"Oh, I didn't realise you were in to photography?", Jonathan looked at her in surprise, pushing through the corridor.

And so the conversation flowed, so calm was it, and so enraptured were they together, that they hadn't even realised that they'd worked their way to the school grounds outside. In Damian, Raven and Jonathan's usual spot, the two found themselves, completely unaware of the people watching them.

Behind Jon and Donna, Raven and Damian stood conversing placidly with the girl who'd approached them a while ago- 'Maps' she called herself- this time without her friend. The three of them shared and English class (one taught by Mr Hussain, who recognised debate and discussion as being fundamental in English) and had spent a lesson in the heat of an intriguing discussion on J B Priestly's 'An Inspector Calls'. That discussion, that had continued in to break, was thrown off by the approaching of the two younger students.

Of all the things Damian expected Jonathan to be talking about, the significance of photographs a few decades ago was not one of them. Little though he'd enjoy admitting it, Damian had missed his friend over the weekend, when Jonathan had retreated to his mum. Still, it brought new hope.

Hope that the dance lessons would get back on track so everyone one could see how Donna and Jonathan OBLITERATED all the other pairs.

***

Two hours after school had finished (which was completely night at this time of year) Raven was sitting in her room hovering above the floor with her legs crossed.

"Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos. Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos. Azarath metrion...zinthosss.", Raven exhaled as if she was exhaling all the negativity from her mind. Recently, Raven had a lot on her mind, from her father's words to the secret Jaguars to dealing with a mansion full of emotionally unstable people. Sometimes -often- she needed to clear her thoughts.

Just as Raven touched the floor, Damian saw fit to waltz in to her room like he owned the place (though he kind of did). Raven stood up, mildly aggravated. She turned to him, feeling the tension radiating off of him, and had to catch a breath. It still caught her off-guard sometimes, just how attractive Damian was. Eyes as temperamental as his mood, electric as a storm in one moment yet soothing like green tea in another. His face was all harsh lines, a strong, pointed jaw, regal cheekbones and angular brows. Paired with a softer nose and lips, it was no wonder the girls at school stared after him. Even without the breath-stealing eyes, chocolatey, wavy hair and naturally tan skin, Damian's form was impressive. He'd shot up over the last few months, now several inches taller than her, and Robin uniform always clung to his form like a second skin, displaying his elegantly built form. Even in causal clothes, they strained a little on his chest, and his master posture never betrayed him.