Of Glitter and Gold

Chapter 33

"What? What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Damian asks, he doesn't know. Something's wrong? It's impossible, it has to be something else.

"Either something is wrong and you're calling for help or advice, or you're sick and called to say you miss me."

"That happened ONCE! Why do you bring it up every time!"

"Because it was sweet, Dami."

"Whatever, I need a prognosis." Jon knows how this will work, Damian will describe his emotions and Jon'll tell him how to 'healthily' deal with them.

"What do you feel?"

"My symptoms are difficult to explain."

"Alright. Can you give me something to work with? I'm at lunch so I can't stay on the line forever. Is it a person?"

"Yes, Marinette."

"Okay... did she do something to annoy, embarrass, anger, or tease you. If so, list which." Jon plays into the symptom thing, staying formal. It helps Damian stop himself from shutting down and to pay attention to what he's feeling.

"No, none of those are right."

"Dude, I need something to go on. Was it because of an interaction? Something she did?"

"No."

"Were you over-thinking?"

"No, I-" Damian puts some thought into his words, "-we came across her old school friends, they hate her. I already knew that though. There was this blond boy, he was obvious about his affection towards her, it was pathetic. We're in our rooms now. I ended up thinking about the interaction." That was the most basic description Damian's scattered mind could conceive but Damian assumes Jon will get the idea.

"Finally, okay, okay. Did Marinette like him back?"

"No, she was uncomfortable. I had to intervene before it got out of hand."

"What did he do?"

"he grabbed her, didn't let go."

"You what? Didn't like when he grabbed her? Not like in a common decency kinda way, in a different way. If that makes sense.

Damian's lack of a know was a yes.

"Alright, that's good Damian. Now, back at your hotel room, what were you thinking about?"

"Her."

"What kind of thoughts? Do you hate her?"

"No. Opposite." He could almost hear Jon roll his eyes.

"Love isn't the opposite of hate." Damian sputters, his face burning, his stomach drops. What is happening to him? He has to be sick, that has to be it. He was sick and delirious.

"What? I didn't say that!"

"Yeah, you did. You said the opposite, and if you were indifferent about her you wouldn't call."

"No, I didn't!" He exclaims, defending himself while trying to not get angry.

"Damian."

"What?"

"What were you thinking about?"

"Her."

"More. C'mon, say it out loud." Damian's feet are welded to the ground, his face must look like Marinette's, at a complete loss. This is impossible.

"Damian, if that's not it you should be fine with saying it."

"How the blond grabbed her, for a moment."