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Blushing Mess Heir

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Chapter-5

Today, even the gods may be surprised.

Today, even the dead might wake up.

Today, even Damian might talk to Anya without blushing or stuttering.

Because today... Anya came to school early.

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As she entered the school grounds, everyone seemed to be staring at her. Eyes widened. Jaws slightly open. She kept walking toward class, not understanding what was happening. Everyone seemed to be eyeing her like she'd grown a second head.

She decided to listen to their thoughts, wondering if she had something on her face.

'OMG...'

'WHAT'S HAPPENING TODAY?'

'IS SHE OKAY?!'

She heard their thoughts and only grew more confused.

As the classroom came into view, she caught one last thought.

'WTH!! FORGER!! IS SHE OKAY?? IS SHE FEELING UNWELL?? SHOULD I CHECK ON HER??'

She didn't need to look up to know who it was. Sy-on boy.

'What's happening? Why is he thinking like that? Did something happen yesterday?'

She was near the classroom when Damian finally decided to ask her what was wrong. He appeared from the corridor, looking at her with confused and concerned eyes. He spoke up, stopping Anya just in front of the class.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Anya's confusion deepened.

"Uh... yeah? What's wrong? I mean, is there something on my face? Why is everyone staring?"

He looked at her, surprised, then a small smirk crept across his face.

"Of course no one's ever gonna believe that Forger showed up early. It's totally fine—when you've been keeping a Guinness World Record for 'Always Late Comer.'"

Anya looked at him in disbelief.

"WHAT?! I am NOT always late! You guys are overreacting for such a small thing. I've been late... a few times. But is it really that necessary to be like this?"

"Yeah... a few times," Damian said with a playful smile.

"Ugh... I can't believe you guys."

She wiped her face dramatically as she entered the classroom. Everyone looked up at her with wide eyes and open mouths.

"Oh c'mon, I know I'm early but is it really that shocking?" she yelled, rolling her eyes and taking her seat.

"Fancy seeing you here, Miss Forger," Mr. Swan said, raising his eyebrows.

Anya opened her mouth to speak, then found it useless and closed it again.

Damian came and sat in his usual seat—just behind Anya, beside Ewen and Emile.

"Wow! I think I should bet on something today. I'm surely gonna win," Ewen said with wide eyes.

Anya turned back just to roll her eyes at him.

Emile called out, "Hey, Anya, where's Becky? Why isn't she here yet?"

The three of them slowly turned their heads toward him like, 'Wow.'

Damian answered instead of Anya, a smirk following his words.

"Oh yeah, Becky. She's gonna come later than usual today. She left a message in the group. Didn't you see? You're always in the group... Becky Boy."

Emile turned into a tomato.

"O-oh, did she? Haha, I muted my notifications, s-so I didn't see it. H-haaa."

"What wait—Damian, when did you start following the group?" Ewen asked.

Damian panicked. "Ugh—I—this is—"

"Wait, that's not the point," Anya cut in, saving Damian without knowing.

"NO WAY... DO YOU LIKE BECKYYYY?!" she gasped.

"Shush! Not so loud!" Emile silenced her.

"Huh? You didn't know? He was painfully obvious," Damian said.

"SAYS YOU!!" Emile defended.

"W-what?!" Damian flustered.

Suddenly, a thud.

"NO WAYYYY WHATS HAPPENING ANYA ARE U OKAYYY??!!!" yelped Becky as her bag fell from her hands.

The three of them flinched at the sound.

Becky stood at the door, eyes wide, bag still on the floor, breathing like she'd just run a marathon. Her eyes darted from Anya to Damian to Emile—who was still a blushing tomato—and back to Anya.

"What happened?!" she demanded, stepping inside dramatically. "Why does Emile look like a tomato? Why does Damian look like he got caught stealing something? Why does Anya look confused—actually, that one's normal—"

"Hey!" Anya protested.

Becky ignored her and pointed at Emile. "YOU. Explain. Now."

Emile opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"...No."

"NO?!"

"I—I don't have to explain anything—"

"You literally look like you just confessed to a crime."

"I DIDN'T—"

"Then why is your face that color?!"

Damian leaned back in his seat with a small smirk. "He's got a crush."

"DAMIAN!" Emile yelped.

Becky froze. Then slowly turned to Emile. Her expression shifted—from confusion, to realization, to something dangerously close to amusement.

"A crush?" she repeated.

Emile looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

Anya tilted her head. "Wait—you didn't know? He's been so obvious."

"ANYA!"

"What? You have been."

Emile buried his face in his hands.

Becky grinned. "Oh, this is the best morning EVER."

She walked over to her seat, sat down, and turned to Emile with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, who is it? Hm? Someone I know?"

Emile didn't answer. He just groaned into his hands.

"No," he finally said, just to avoid suspicion.

Becky's face fell—just slightly.

She didn't know, but she kind of felt disappointed. Even if he had told her it was someone she knew, maybe she would've thought... maybe it was her.

But she didn't want to admit her feelings.

"Oh. Okay. Cool. Yeah, I mean—why would I know them, right?"

She laughed lightly, like it didn't matter.

But Emile noticed.

The way her voice dropped. The way her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

He almost said something.

But then Becky turned to Anya, already changing the subject. "Anyway! Why are YOU here early? Did you actually sleep? Did you get replaced by a robot?"

Anya rolled her eyes. "I can be early."

"Once a year, sure."

Anya huffed, but she was smiling.

Damian watched Emile and Becky—the way Emile's eyes lingered on her, and the way Becky's fingers drummed against her desk like she was thinking about something else.

He didn't say anything.

But he knew.

"Interesting."

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The commotion slowly settled. Then the door swung open again.

In walked Mr. Henderson, clutching his signature stack of papers and looking as elegant as ever.

He stopped mid-step.

His eyes landed on Anya.

He blinked.

Looked at her.

Looked at her seat.

Then back at her.