Work Text:
Damian scritched on his paper with more force than necessary. He was already on his third attempt at drawing and the constant redos were getting on his nerves.
"So unfair..."
From beside him, a classmate looked at him in concern. "What is?"
Startling at the question, Damian turned to them and whispered angrily. "Nothing! Just focus on your own work and let me do mine!"
He ignored the scoff he got in response ("Jeez, just asking.") and continued sketching on his paper more quietly.
Damn it. I didn't mean to say that out loud.
Fighting the all too familiar feeling of a blush rising up his face, he cursed his slip up and proceeded to draw out his outline.
Their activity for that day's art class was to create a sketch of any animal of their choice. He chose to do a cat because he thought it'd be easy enough to perfect with his skill level, but as he was finding out, that wasn't the case.
No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t focus on his work at all. It was like every thought that drifted into his mind was immediately shoved together and turned to mush, filling his head with an incomprehensible mess.
How hard is it to draw a damn cat?! He internally screamed at himself. The fact that he was struggling so much was as frustrating as it was humiliating.
His nostrils flared as he grabbed another pencil.
This is all her fault!
In an action that was entirely out of his control, his eyes flicked away from his paper for the hundredth time that day and cast over to the table across from him. There, he saw the smiling face of a pretty pink-haired girl.
Or in other words, the bane of his existence.
Unlike him, she was happily doing her work without a care in the world. He observed her as she nodded approvingly at her creation and turned to her side to nudge Blackbell's shoulder to show her right after.
His eye twitched when the two giggled and leaned on each other. How could she be so ignorant? Her grades were always below average, she had the same amount of stellas as tonitruses, and he's pretty sure she's on every teacher's "delinquent" radar. So how is she still capable of being so happy-go-lucky? He couldn't explain it, but the way she acted like nothing bothered her annoyed him to no end.
Hell, just looking at her made him feel a lot of things. His blood boiled each time he saw her with that stupid smug smile, his fists clenched in anger whenever she nodded off in class, his mouth dried when she'd tuck her hair behind her ear, and his stomach fluttered every time her bright green eyes...
"Hey, Damian, you're getting kinda red. Are you okay?"
He snapped out of his thoughts when the classmate from before poked his arm.
"D-damn it, Glooman, stop disturbing me!" The furious boy snapped. George was lucky that he only slapped his hand away, his vision was getting almost as red as his cheeks and he wouldn't know what he'd do if he didn't hold himself back. (Note: He's a good boy, he won't actually do anything.)
Not wanting to embarrass himself any more than he already has, he forced his head back down and began coloring the cat he's been trying to finish for the past hour.
Just as he was putting on the last whisker, the table shook when someone bumped into it.
Damian bristled at the crooked line. "Hey! Learn where to walk you dumb-"
The insult died in his throat before it could even make it out. The person who was clumsy enough to hit the wooden table was none other than the girl he was agonizing over just a few moments ago.
Anya was still rubbing her side when George bent down to pick up her fallen drawing.
"Here. You dropped this, Anya." He held out the piece of paper to her. Looking at the messy blob of colors, George furrowed his brows. "Looks like a nice... parrot?"
Anya gingerly took her paper back and let out a sigh. "It's a crab but thanks anyway." She replied with a smile. The girl was used to her drawings being...indecipherable to others. But over the years, she's learned to accept it as just another one of the shortcomings she'll have to improve on. Besides, she bet she can still get a decent score from her teacher if she sells it to them with enough confidence.
Leaning closer to the flat-headed boy, she peered right by his shoulder to look at his drawing.
The action didn't go past Damian.
"Oh, your sloth looks good too, George!"
"T-thanks." Damian scoffed at George's pathetic response. Is that really all you have to say after she complimented you? Not like I care but if I were you…
He shook his head. Nope. Do not even go there.
Still glowering at the two from the corner of his eye, he watched as Anya gave George a pat on the shoulder before sauntering away to submit her drawing.
He continued to watch her but jumped in surprise when she stopped walking and spun around to look at him.
"Huh?" Why was she suddenly staring at him so intensely? His hand unconsciously raised itself over his chest. Their impromptu staring contest was making his heart thump wildly again. His mind was willing him to look away first but he found it impossible when her sparkly emerald eyes were just too mesmeri—
Then out of the blue, she gave him her signature grin and stuck her tongue out at him.
—Nevermind.
Damian's cheeks burned even hotter as he clutched his pencil tighter. He fumed in his seat while Anya happily turned the other way like nothing happened to present her "art" to the teacher. The once stunned gaze he had on her was now more like an annoyed glare.
She was actively making a fool out of him and she definitely knew it. "That stupid little—"
The young scion was about to stand up to give her a piece of his mind when a giggle held him back.
Looking behind him, his eyes locked on to a still-giggling Becky Blackbell who had approached his table with a drawing of an owl in her hands.
She pointed at his desk with an infuriating complacent smile. "Is that on purpose?"
He scowled at her and looked at his drawing. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he raised a brow and gave her a confused look. "What's wrong with it? It's a cat."
The pigtailed girl hid her knowing smirk behind the back of her palm. She shook her head and pointed at the paper a second time. "I know it's a cat, dummy. What I'm asking is if it's supposed to look like—" she then pointed to the front of the class where their teacher was currently being coaxed by her best friend into giving her a good grade for her not-parrot. "Her?"
With eyes blown wide, Damian snatched his paper and brought it closer to his face to see just what the heck Becky was talking about.
Sure enough, his innocent drawing did hold a striking resemblance to his air-headed classmate. From the black ears that resembled the girl's horns to the familiar emerald orbs that shined right at him.
"It even has pink highlights on the fur. Are you sure you didn't do it on purpose?"
Damian continued to stare darkly at his creation. "I didn't."
"I admit, the cat is pretty cute. You should show it to her, I bet she'll get your message this time." Becky antagonized teased.
"Shut up, Blackbell." There's no way he can submit this paper now. What if their teacher posted it on the wall for everyone to see? How humiliating.
He crumpled his hard work into a ball and shoved it in his bag.
Disregarding the sound of Becky's displeasure, he sat back down, put his head in his hands, and sighed. Even in the darkness of his closed eyes, he could still see her salmon pink hair and rosy cheeks.
Damian groaned in dramatic anguish. Forger, you are ruining my life...