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Another (invisible) Punch

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"Does it hurt?" 



He could feel a pair of emeralds staring right into his face. He gulped. Once, then twice. Suddenly her lingering look was too much for him to take. He gave her a small shove. 



"Shut up. You're the one who did it." 



"That's why Anya is curious. Does it still hurt?" 



What a persistent little brat? Damian grimaced. He was waiting in the queue at the cafeteria for about six whole minutes, and unfortunately the pink-headed gremlin stood right behind him. He was looking forward to eating his honey-glazed donuts, not making a conversation with a damn piglet. Now he completely faced towards her and raised his stubby seven-year-old hand to flick her forehead. She never failed to get on his nerves. 



He inwardly laughed at the fact that she looked similar to an assaulter asking their victim 'if they're okay.' See? Total psychopath behavior. It had been an entire year since she had punched him in his jaw and probably scarred him for his life (or that's how he interpreted it). Maybe she did deserve the hate shown towards her by the entire Cecile hall. She inched forward, and he saw it as a threat right away. Yeah, I'm sure that she wants to get expelled. 



To his surprise, all she did was poke him in the spot where she had once used her fist, her little finger causing an electric spark as it reached his cheek. "Squishy", she announced. Ah yes, he knew exactly what was about to come next. That very vexing feeling that caused his nerves to buzz madly and set his cardiac muscles ablaze. He smacked her hand away with a scowl.



"Don't touch me. Your hands have been all over the place." 



She pulled the corners of her lips upwards, eyes turning into mere slits. This wasn't the time to show off her ugly signature smile! What is she acting so smug about? I literally asked her to stop touching me. Wish I could punch her condescending face the way she did once. A single syllable left her lips. " Heh". 



"Are you stupid? Get out of my face before I report you to Mr. Henderson." 



"But Anya didn't do anything. Anya is just waiting for her food like everyone else." Fair enough.



"Why are you poking me though? Don't think I'll hold back just 'cause you're a girl." 



Now he did it. He saw the esper's mouth downturn into a frown, eyebrows burrowing under her cherry-pink bangs. If he wanted to, he could hold her by the ankle and throw her away. If he wanted to, he could have yanked her stupid hair off when she had given him a taste of her knuckles. But the catch was: if he wanted to. And he didn't. She crossed her arms in front of him and cocked her head away in an 'apologize-to-me' manner. He couldn't care less. However, the feisty side of her was sometimes, only sometimes, extremely endearing. 



She poked him once again out of the blue. 



"Where are your stitches? Anya thought the doctor people sew you up after you get a booboo-"



He abruptly cut her off, getting hold of her finger and preventing her from bothering him any further. "I told you to stop doing that! And do you think your measly nub of a hand is gonna dislocate my jaw or something? I can literally cause you facial fractures if I use my fist." 



"Dis-locket? What's that? Can Sy-on boy really hit Anya?" 



He couldn't help but smack his forehead at the comment. Oh my god, why am I stuck here with this clown? "It's called 'dislocate', it means shifting the jaw bone out of its place, if you even know what that means…" After a small pause, he added, "Yeah I can hit you. But then you'll go crying to your mama and papa about it and then get me a tonitrus bolt. Can't afford that." 



For an unknown reason, she ignored the boy's final reply and almost immediately brought up the thing that started this whole…interaction to say the least. She looked him dead in his hazels as she spoke, "Does your dis-locketed-jaw bone hurt?" 



Damian could only sigh in exasperation. " It does not . Maybe it does a little…" when I recall the incident, " It's been a year since that thing. Okay, now, will you just shut up already? Leave me alone." He noticed how the urge to poke his right cheek once again swallowed her whole. Her eyes reflected it all. Nope, he wasn't willing to let that happen. He wanted to hold and constrict both of her tentacles, but.. It counts as holding her hand, right? Ew…



In a fleeting moment, he felt the sleeves of his uniform get yanked down, causing him to bend sideways. A light feather-like pressure caressed his cheek for a second, lifting off with a soft, almost inaudible smacking sound. He jolted upright at the contact and covered the spot with his now sweaty palm where something… something touched him which definitely wasn't a chubby finger or a hand. Millions of questions penetrated his brain, replacing the annoyed look on his face to bemusing one. The ones who witnessed the phenomenon in the queue gasped with astonishment while the others continued chatting. It took the boy a few, no, several seconds to process and recollect his thoughts. 



Conclusion: Anya Forger had kissed him.  



He slowly focused his olive browns onto the girl. No way, he mentally muttered in disbelief. No. Damn. Way. She foolishly did the "heh" thing again, this time adding an explanation. "Mama says that any booboo can be cured once it is kissed. Now it won't hurt anymore, second son!" 



ShekissedmeShekissedmeShekissedmeShekissedmeShekissedmeShekissedmeShekissedmeShekissedmeShekissedmeShekissedmeShekissedmeShekissedme  



"YOU- I- WHAT!!?" With her current coy expression, she looked very adoring. He couldn't meet her eyes. A dark hue of red rose up his neck, face and ears. She has the audacity to do something so indecent to a Desmond? That's it. I'm calling Jeeves this evening and letting him know about this. Father would be so mad. Blood vessels thumping with rage (and something else that he couldn't name or accept) drove him insane. His feet flew him to the boy's washroom where he tried to splash some cool water on his burning face. And also to rinse off any remnant of the weird thing that contaminating monster had done to him. Truth to be told, his idiotic heart wasn't willing to touch the spot at all, as if it was too precious to be washed away. So what did he do? He stuck a spare bandage that he carried in his pocket onto it just like he did exactly a year ago.



"Boss man!? Did that runt hit you again?" Emile and Ewen stared at the boy's bandaged cheek in terror. They were completely unaware of the incident that took place a few minutes ago.



"N-no! I, uh…I accidently tripped over and fell." 



"Oh, thank goodness." 



Forget about calling Jeeves, he couldn't let his own flunkeys know about that thing. 



And that's how Damian Desmond couldn't have his favorite honey-glazed donuts for lunch. 



The end.