Damian sat on the fountain's edge, one leg bent, the other stretched out, his phone in his hand. His face dimly lit by the glowing phone screen.
The campus gossip page was busy today.
Too busy. It was flooded with information about that sweet kiss that occurred the day before. It was not Damian's thing to actually be active on the gossip page, but he'd do anything to build on the information he had about his devil who had suddenly turned into a college bad boy.
Damian scrolled, watching carefully at each post under the "The Perfect Dean's Daughter + Campus Bad Boy" hashtag.
He saw pictures of them talking in the hallways, staring right into each other… etc.
And then—
There it was.
A kiss.
Right in the middle of the quad.
He blinked once, then zoomed in on the picture.
Logan. Harper.
His cousin had one hand on her waist, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded. Her eyes were closed, her lips soft against his.
Damian's thumb paused on the screen. He didn't need to keep looking, but he did.
Another post.
Another angle.
Some shots were clean, sharp enough to see every strand of her hair in the sunlight. Others were grainy, taken from someone too far away but desperate to catch it anyway. And the captions…
Couple of the year?
Is this real??
Dean's daughter and the campus heartthrob—caught!
It was everywhere.
He leaned back slightly, jaw tightening.
Turns out he was right after all. The annoying library girl was the one pulling his devil back. This mission was supposed to be simple.
Get Logan out. Send him home… that's all.
But now?
Logan was out here kissing the Dean's daughter — slash the most annoying girl he had seen on campus so far — like he had time to waste. Like he didn't have a family waiting for him to remember where he belonged.
A distraction.
That's what she was.
And if Logan couldn't see it…
Damian would.
Now all he had to do was prevent her from destroying his mission and making his devil weaker and weaker. Damian knew what he had to do. It was simple: he'd cause their breakup. That way, Damon would feel like college was trash, then they'd leave and then… well, mission accomplished.
It was going to be a breeze for him. And as much as he hated getting closer to Harper, he hated failing at his mission more.
He slid his phone into his pocket, pushed himself off the fountain. He knew where to start his side mission. Sighing, Damian headed toward the library.
The moment he stepped inside, the world outside seemed to vanish. The low hum of whispers. The faint smell of paper, old and new. That heavy, still air that told you one wrong move could get you shushed from across the room.
His boots were quiet on the tiled floor as he scanned the aisles, searching for her. She was supposed to be there because he hadn't bumped into her in the hallway either. Just then—
He saw her.
There she was.
Good.
Harper Reed sat alone at a table, leaning over a math notebook. Pencil tapping against the page. Her brows drawn together like she was fighting the problem on paper.
She didn't see him.
He swallowed. He couldn't just walk toward her and start a conversation, especially after giving her that nonchalant vibe in their previous encounters.
He had to bring something up. Probably be nice?
His eyes wandered to the nearest shelf. And that's when it hit him.
The book.
When Light in Darkness Fades.
The same one they'd fought over before. The one she'd acted like she owned just because she got to it first. He could only be "nice" by trying to give her the book… and that was the least nice thing he could do.
He pulled it out. Let the weight settle in his hand. For a moment, he just looked at it, feeling the faint pull of a smirk.
Then he started walking toward her.
She noticed him only when his shadow slipped over her notebook.
Her head lifted. Confusion flickered across her face. Then recognition.
Her eyes widened.
He said nothing at first. Just held up the book — letting the title tilt into her line of sight.
Her gaze dropped to it, then back to him.
Damian didn't move. Didn't look away.
It was a challenge.
Without a single word, it said exactly what he wanted: I remember. And I'm not here by accident.
Suddenly her expression changed to an I know you're up to something look, which amused him.
The corner of his mouth curled higher.
"Miss me?" he asked, his tone lazy, like the question didn't really matter to him either way.
Harper gave him a flat look. "Not even in my nightmares."
"Ouch." Damian tilted the book in his hand so the title caught the light. "Then maybe I should've kept this for myself."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why are you even bringing that back?"
"Thought you'd want it," he said casually, setting it down in front of her. "Or maybe I just like reminding you that I had it first."
"Petty," she muttered, but her hand still slid toward the book.
He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat without asking. "So… what are you working on? Or is that classified Dean's-daughter-level information?"
She didn't answer right away, just kept writing.
Damian leaned forward a little, his shadow falling across her page. "Math? This what you do for fun?"
Her pencil stilled. "It's called studying. You should try it sometime."
He smirked. "I'd rather not. But…" Without waiting for permission, he tugged the notebook toward himself. "Looks like you're overcomplicating it."
She snatched it back. "I am not—"
"Prove it," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You finish it before me, I'll let you keep the book without any more comments. You lose… I spoil the ending."
Her eyes flicked to his. "You wouldn't."
"Try me."
For a second, it was just silence — then Harper's pencil started moving, quick and determined. Damian, meanwhile, took one of the library's spare pens and began scribbling on a loose scrap of paper.
They both worked fast, stealing quick glances at each other, like neither wanted to be the one to look away first.
A minute later, Harper dropped her pencil with a little flourish. "Done."
Damian checked her work. His brows lifted slightly — she was right. Perfectly right.
He set the paper down and shrugged. "Not bad."
"Not bad?" she repeated, her voice dripping with mock offense.
"Relax, Reed. It's a compliment." He slid the book toward her. "Guess you get to keep it… for now."
She tucked it into her bag with a small, satisfied smile. "See? You're not completely unbearable."
He leaned back, eyes glinting. "Careful. You almost sound like you like me."
"In your dreams," she said, standing and slinging her bag over her shoulder.
Damian gave her a slow wink. "Every night."
She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched before she turned away.
He watched her go, the faintest smirk still playing on his face — until his phone buzzed.
A message lit the screen.
Rapture: How's the plan going?
Damian's smirk faded, replaced by a sharp, focused look.
He slid the phone back into his pocket.
Playtime was over.