Eden's Prestige Prom Night |A Damianya Story|

Chapter 12 : Flirting Practice

"Okay okay okay..." Ewen repeated rapidly, holding his face in his hands as he took a sharp breath in. "try that again, but less... what's the word I'm looking for?"

Emile hummed, tapping his chin before letting out a questionable, "Pathetic?"

Damian's jaw dropped. He couldn't remember a time when people had been so blatantly rude to him. What happened to the Ewen and Emile who threw themselves into dodgeballs to protect him?

Damian took a deep breath in before rehearsing the line his friends gave him. "Hey, Anya!" He said, trying to be less 'pathetic,' whatever that meant. "I was wondering if you'd want to go to the prom together! The one for imperial scholars? S-since you are a scholar and I am a scholar, we could uh... we could go! ...Together?"

Emile sucked in a sharp line of air between his teeth while the blond just nodded sympathetically. "Um, good job...?" Ewen congratulated(?)

"Just don't seem so desperate and you're great!!" Emile encouraged.

The green-haired boy felt like he just got smacked by the terrifyingly backhanded compliments he was receiving. God, was he really that bad? "Well, could you show me how it's done then?"

Ewen gave a small round of applause. "Flawless idea, Lord Damian!" He cheered, trying to make his friend less upset.

Emile cracked his knuckles, a smug look on his face as he got into a comfy position. "Alright, I'll be you, Lord Damian, and you'll be Anya."

Damian gave his friend an unimpressed brow, but he agreed nonetheless, saying a simple "Okay." Before watching the dirty blond get into character.

"Hey, Anya," He welcomed, his tone chill but his expression intrigued—and how on earth was he smirking like that? And why did it look so good??—"Would you wanna go to the prom with me? I think we'd have a lot of fun." He spoke, finishing his question with a little wink.

Now, Emile wasn't the most handsome boy in their school, and he definitely wasn't living up to the male beauty standards—after all, he was a bit on the chubbier side, he was kinda short compared to his friends, and his front teeth never seemed to grow proportionately to the rest of his face. But oh sweet Lord, could he flirt. Damian was about to ask him to the prom instead of Anya!

"Woah," Ewen spoke, breaking the stunned silence. "How are you so good at that?"

Emile just smirked, shrugging his shoulders as he leaned back into his chair. "Just part of the Elman heritage."

Damian took a sharp breath out, combing his hands there his hair. "Well, I'm sure I can copy your 'Elman heritage,' after all, I have the Desmond heritage." The green-haired boy slyly bragged before leaning back in his chair like his friend and finally attempting his promposal for (hopefully) the last time.

"Hey, Anya!" Damian called out, a bead of sweat already rolling down his forehead—God, how was he going to ask Anya out? He can't even say it to his friends!—"Would... you wanna go to the dance? With me??" He nervously chuckled out, "I think we'd have a lot of—... I CAN'T DO IT!" He practically screamed, falling back onto the couch and putting a pillow over his beet-red face.

The group stayed quiet for a moment; Damian internally screaming, and his friends looking at him wondering if the Lord Damian, the second son to the Desmond empire, truly just did that girly stunt. But eventually, Damian sat back up, his face still extremely flushed as he said, "This isn't going to work. I am bringing shame upon the Desmond name every time I attempt this."

"Of course it will work, Lord Damian!" Ewen chirped, ignoring the last part and giving an enthusiastic look on his face, Emile chiming in as he did so. "You just have to study this and Anya will have no choice but accept your promposal, Lord Damian!!"