Chapter Text
The Tinsley garden at Eden Academy was one of the only places on campus that one could see flowers this late in the year; most other gardens currently being adorned with pathetic, twiggy things, already gone dormant for the winter. A pair of students found themselves wandering the dimly lit paths between perfectly maintained camellia bushes, seeking a private escape from their twelfth year end of term gala. Damian watched from Anya’s side as she admired the blooming flowers. The distant lights of the ballroom were just enough that he could make out her delighted expressions.
All was going exactly to plan.
Anya’s fingers brushed gently the pale petals of a camelia, she watched the flower bob on its stem, then she turned to Damian and straightened. Her expression was soft, hopeful, her gown deep green, stunning. “Thanks for bringing me out here, it’s a really nice way to end the night.”
The night had been a dream so far. Anya, who had accepted Damian’s proposal to attend the gala together, had also accepted his hand in every dance that evening; only ever breaking for refreshments or to chat with friends. Even then, she’d remained on his arm the whole time. He’d witnessed the jealous glances of his peers, the ones who knew the game was as good as over, that Damian Desmond had won. All that was left was to make one last move and confirm his romantic victory.
“It was getting a little stuffy inside…” Damian shoved his hands in his pockets, and played off his decision to bring Anya to the gardens as if it hadn’t been something he’d meticulously planned weeks in advance. “And I don’t know if you’ve heard but there is supposed to be a meteor showing up soon.”
Anya laughed, then took up a pose of mock thoughtfulness, tapping her chin. “I think I remember hearing something about that… it’s not like it’s been all over the news, or the only thing Ewen’s been able to talk about for a month.” Her expression melted into a bright smile and Damian felt his heart almost stop at the sight.
He felt a little bashful with her whole attention focused on him, nothing and no one to act as a buffer or interrupt their moment together. He knew it was the right time. Tonight, after years of privately admiring her while pretending that he didn’t, Damian had pulled together the resolve to make his affection known. He was going to ask Anya Forger to become his girlfriend and was about eighty percent sure she would say yes.
He took her hands in his. Anya’s eyes seemed to glitter despite the low light.
“Anya, I had a lot of fun with you tonight, I always have a lot of fun with you. You’re the most amazing and confounding—kgrk!”
There had been a sharp cracking sound, and in the same instant an unbelievable pain. Damian felt as though someone had punched a hole straight through his chest and immediately set it on fire. Rendered dumb and blind by the shock, he barely acknowledged himself growing faint, nor his knees giving way as he dropped bonelessly to the ground. His lungs desperately fought for air that refused to come, each breath wet and incomplete. He felt his throat fill with liquid, spluttering, he attempted to cough it out but the fire in his chest had emptied his lungs of breath. The darkness closed in, and then there was nothing.
Overhead, a meteor streaked across the sky, insensible of the human tragedy playing out below.
*
Damian woke with a gasp, his body buzzing with adrenalin and his lungs greedy for air. Getting a hold of himself, he took in his surroundings. He was in his bedroom, his actual bedroom, not his room in the school dorms. The clock by his bedside read 7:24AM, and his suit for the end of term gala hung pressed and ready on the valet. He dropped his head back to the pillow with a shaky breath.
Just a dream.
The dream had been vivid and had felt more real than any other dream Damian could recall. He remembered the details clearly, the series of events all made logical sense. Everything about the dream seemed grounded in reality right up until the point where everything went horribly wrong. Was he really that anxious about confessing his love to Anya that he would stress-dream about dying mid-speech?
If he were to be completely honest with himself, the dream haunted him somewhat, hanging over his psyche like a bad omen. He briefly considered that maybe it was a warning, a sign from the universe that his confession would not go as planned, that maybe he should reconsider the whole thing… That thought was dismissed as baseless superstition.
Sure, Damian rationalised, if Anya turned him down tonight it would shatter his heart, and that would be emotionally catastrophic. But it’s not like a failed confession would literally kill him.