#damiara

It’s been a few days since Damien and Chiara have been in the infirmary, aimlessly sniping at each other while fighting off the hay fever. After the incident, Damien’s friends have been teasing him nonstop, asking if he got himself sick only to lie next to the cute Italian girl. Each time, though, he simply swats their hands away and snaps, “No, shut up.” 

But his heart knows he’s lying. Even he can’t deny the way his heart thumps faster when he thinks of her, the way his breath hitches just by offering her a glance. Everything she does is graceful, done with a purpose. One day he saw her in the arts and craft room, talking with Nico di Angelo in fluent Italian, and he almost passed out over how beautiful her words sounded. They blended together, forming music in his ears. 

Nobody at camp knows that he and Chiara are dating, and to be honest, this is preferable. There’s an intimacy to being the only people aware of your relationship. It’s exhilarating knowing that only you two know of each other, that you share secret moments without the prying eyes of others. Only a show for yourselves to watch.

There’s really no reason as to why the two should even keep their relationship a secret, and Damien’s not sure why they don’t just come out and tell the camp. But he enjoys being a mystery, knowing that Chiara exists as his girlfriend only for him. No one else knows, and no one cares. 

It’s a cool night at camp, the wind whispering past him and leaving him shuddering in the cold. He stands before the beach, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows that he’s basically risking his life just by standing here, because if one of the harpies sees him here, they’ll surely eat him up. 

But it’s all worth it if it means he gets to see Chiara. 

In the day they don’t quite mingle with each other, in the hopes that they stay a secret, but in the night they more than make up for the absence of one another. Nighttime has an intimate loneliness to it, filled only with a silent breeze and the comfort of one’s lover. He loves to feel Chiara’s body next to his as they gaze up at the stars, her warm hand grasped in his, their breathing synced. 

Tonight, the wind is chillier, biting him, and he’s grateful for the blanket he’s brought. Chiara is taking longer than he’s used to, and an unease grips his skin as he thinks of all the problems that could have arose.

After waiting another ten minutes, Damien is about to turn right around and search for her, anxious that he caused her harm. But just as he twists his body, he hears a soft, quiet voice whisper, “I’m here.” 

He jerks to the left, and suddenly Chiara’s materialized before him, a mischievous smile splattered against her face. She raises an eyebrow. “What? Scared I wouldn’t come?”

Damien huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Excuse me for being worried that you got killed or something.”

Chiara laughs softly, and Damien finds himself engrossed in the sound of it. Her laugh reminds him of flowers, bursting with color and excitement. He smiles despite himself. Chiara takes her fingers and gently mingles them with his, pulling him closer to the edge of the ocean. “I’m the daughter of luck, Damien. Don’t worry about me.”

Damien lays the blanket out over the sand, already internally cringing at the prospect of how much sand he’ll have to pick out later. He pushes that anxiety away for now and focuses only on Chiara, of how the moonlight spills over her features. Her dark eyes absorb the pale light, drinking it up, turning a gorgeous light brown color. A small smile curves over her mouth, as if she’s got a secret. Her eyelashes flutter in the breeze. 

The two gently lie on the blanket, careful to avoid any sand that may get into their clothing. It takes a moment for them to get comfortable, ease into each other’s touch. They’re strangers for a moment, not quite knowing how to get connected. But it only takes a little bit to familiarize themselves with each other. Damien can’t help but to notice how perfectly her body fits into his, how soft her fingers are . A giddiness comes over him, excitement bursting from his seams. He can’t even believe that he and Chiara are dating. It feels like a fever dream to him. 

They’re quiet for a while, finding solace in each other’s embrace. Only the sound is of their breathing, echoing in the cold night, and a sudden exhaustion blankets itself over Damien. Being around Chiara calms him down, makes him forget his stress. He’s lulled by her mere presence. 

They gaze up at the stars, which twinkle in the darkness, blinking on and off. A cool breeze brushes against them, and they pull closer, closer, until there’s barely any space between them. Damien has to fight hard not to close his eyes; if he does, he knows for sure they’ll be caught and harassed by the harpies.

“Damien?” Chiara whispers, her voice melting in the wind. 

Damien opens his eyes again, finding that he was just about to fall asleep again. “Yeah?” he asks. 

She hesitates, the sound of words dying on her lips. He waits patiently. It seems as if moments pass before, finally, Chiara whispers, “I really like this. I really like you.” 

Damien smiles, his heart fluttering in his chest. A lightness comes over him, a weight lifting off him. He feels as if he’s floating, stuck between two worlds. He squeezes her hand. “I like you too.”