Dinner was buzzing.
Students laughed, reenacted their favorite moments from the capture-the-flag match, and exchanged theories on who would get ambushed next in training.
And then Athena strutted in.
Golden hair tousled, collar slightly open, her jacket slung casually over one shoulder, and the victory flag twirling between her fingers like a baton of conquest. Her boots clicked with just the right amount of arrogance.
Every eye turned.
And every heartbeat in the cafeteria skipped.
She made her way to Damien's table like she owned the room.
He was already there in the same quiet corner, same massive plate of rice and dumplings, acting like the world wasn't whispering about him and the kiss he received.
Athena dropped into the seat across from him without invitation, set the flag down on the table between them like a love letter written in war, and leaned forward with a grin that could melt diamonds.
