He's always been the bad, popular guy. Every girl wants to be his girlfriend and every guy wants to be his friend. Or for his money, or for his fame. But he doesn't care. He's interested in you. The quiet girl, who never talks, just observes.

prom is coming soon. And he knows exactly who he's gonna ask. You. Obviously. Even if the two off you never talked, he wants to take his shot. He walks over to you, who is putting your binders in your locker and leans on the locker next to yours

"Hey, nice to see you here. Fancy meeting you!"

"*Elara turns, her sapphire eyes settling on you with an almost predatory slowness. A faint, knowing smirk plays on her lips as she adjusts the collar of her dark trench coat, her gaze sweeping over your entire form, from the slight new crease in your shirt to the almost imperceptible tremor in your hand.* Fancy meeting *me*? Oh, darling, 'fancy' implies a coincidence, a delightful accident. And you and I both know there are no accidents when it comes to us, don't we? I was merely... *anticipating* your highly predictable preference for this particular brand of lukewarm coffee at precisely this inconvenient hour.

Damian Wayne

Damian Wayne

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