Lamia continued to sneak out from his parents' mansion in Silverhill, always careful not to draw attention. His escapes were becoming routine now, and with each passing day, the anticipation of seeing Damian again only grew stronger. Lamia's fashionable attire never failed to catch eyes, even in the quieter corners of Raven Hollow. Today, he wore an emerald green velvet coat with gold embroidery, tailored perfectly to his slim frame. His trousers were a deep black, made from the finest silk, and his shoes—polished so they gleamed in the sunlight—were from a Parisian designer that only the wealthiest could afford. Even his casual outfits screamed wealth and status, but Lamia didn't care about that here, not when he was with Damian.
As he approached the modest Wayne household, Lamia's heart raced. He knew this visit was different. Damian had mentioned wanting to introduce him to his grandparents, and while Lamia had been raised with strict etiquette back at their former residents about "proper company," along with some children of his age in high status as mingling with the lower class was forbidden in his former glamorous residence, he had long since thrown those lessons aside when it came to his friends. Damian's family didn't have the riches or prestige his did, but Lamia had grown fond of them through the stories Damian shared.
Damian greeted him outside the house, his hazel eyes lighting up at the sight of Lamia, as they always did. He was dressed simply—a worn brown shirt and trousers—but the joy on his face made him look like royalty in Lamia's eyes.
"You look amazing as usual," Damian said with a grin, his gaze sweeping over Lamia's extravagant attire.
Lamia smiled softly. "I feel like I should dress down more, considering where I'm going," he joked.
"Don't worry about it," Damian said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "They'll be surprised, for sure, but they'll love you."
They walked into the Wayne household together, and the instant they stepped inside, Mrs. Wayne's eyes widened at the sight of Lamia. She paused in her cooking, taking in every detail of his appearance—his finely tailored coat, his perfectly polished shoes—and her surprise was palpable.
"My, oh my," Mrs. Wayne exclaimed, her voice tinged with both awe and disbelief. "A boy from Silverhill? Associating with Damian?"
Mr. Wayne, who sat at the table whittling a piece of wood, glanced up, equally stunned. His weathered hands froze mid-whittle as he observed the rich boy standing next to his grandson.
But it wasn't just Lamia's presence that surprised them—it was the way the two boys stood close, hands brushing as they entered, an unspoken understanding between them. The connection was undeniable, even to those who had only just met Lamia.
"Come in, come in," Mrs. Wayne finally said, her shock replaced by a warm smile. "You must be hungry after all that travel."
Lamia hesitated for a moment, unsure if he was imposing, but Damian gave him a reassuring nudge. "She makes the best fried potatoes with sauce. You're going to love it."
Mrs. Wayne busied herself in the kitchen, preparing the meal while the boys sat at the small wooden table. Lamia looked around, taking in the simplicity of the Wayne household. There was a coziness here that he never felt at his family's mansion—a warmth that came from love, not wealth. When the food was ready, Mrs. Wayne brought over a plate piled high with fried potatoes, the rich scent of spices and oil filling the air.
Damian, without a second thought, washed his hands in the basin and sat down, dipping a potato into the thick, savory sauce with his fingers. He caught Lamia's expression—slightly bewildered, as Lamia had never eaten with his hands before.
"Go on, try it," Damian urged, his smile infectious. "It's part of the experience."
Lamia stared at the food for a moment, then carefully picked up a potato. His fingers hovered over the sauce, hesitating as he remembered all the lessons in etiquette his parents had drilled into him. But here, with Damian, those rules felt distant and irrelevant.
Damian, noticing his hesitation, chuckled softly. He reached out, dipped a potato in the sauce, and held it up to Lamia's mouth. "Like this," he said gently, his voice low and encouraging.
Lamia's cheeks flushed, but he opened his mouth, accepting the food. Their eyes met for a moment, and there was something unspoken in the gesture, something intimate. Mrs. Wayne, who had been watching from the kitchen, suddenly choked on her food, startled by the scene. Mr. Wayne rushed to give her water, but she remained speechless, her mind racing.
Was her son in love? The thought terrified her, more than she wanted to admit. She couldn't forget what happened to her own son when he married into a rich family. And now Damian…was it happening again?
But as she looked over at Damian, who was laughing softly with Lamia, his eyes bright and full of joy, she saw something she hadn't seen in him in a long time—pure, unfiltered happiness. And despite her fears, she hoped that whatever this was, it would last.
The meal continued with light-hearted conversation and laughter. Lamia was slowly getting used to the idea of eating with his hands, and by the end of it, he was even enjoying it. They talked about the town, the struggles of life in Raven Hollow, and the absurdities of life in Silverhill. The bond between the boys was palpable, and even Mr. Wayne, who had been initially wary of Lamia, could see that his grandson had found a friend like no other.
After dinner, Damian washed the plates and led Lamia outside. The evening air was crisp, the sky painted in shades of pink and orange as the sun set behind the hills. They began playing local games, ones Damian had grown up with, and Lamia, despite his usual grace and poise, fumbled through them, laughing as they both tripped and stumbled over each other.
At one point, while chasing each other through the tall grass, they both lost their footing, tumbling to the ground. Lamia landed on top of Damian, their faces inches apart. For a moment, the world seemed to pause. Their laughter faded, replaced by the sound of their breathing, and they gazed into each other's eyes.
Lamia's midnight blue eyes held something deep, something Damian couldn't quite name, but it made his heart race. And Damian's hazel eyes reflected the same emotions—curiosity, admiration, and something more.
"Alexis…" Damian whispered, his voice barely audible, as if afraid to break the moment.
Lamia didn't respond with words. Instead, he smiled—a soft, almost shy smile that spoke volumes. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing against Damian's, and in that quiet moment, they made a silent promise to each other.
"Always and forever," Lamia finally whispered, his voice filled with certainty. "Whatever may come."
Damian nodded, his heart swelling with emotion. "Always and forever," he echoed, sealing the promise.
They lay there for a few moments longer, neither wanting to break the fragile beauty of the moment. Eventually, they stood up, brushing the dirt off their clothes, but something had shifted between them. The bond that had been forming for weeks had solidified into something unbreakable.
As the twilight gave way to evening, the two boys found themselves lying on the grass, gazing up at the stars that dotted the sky. The cool breeze rustled through the leaves as they spoke softly about their dreams, their futures, and the unspoken connection that had grown between them.
Finally, the night deepened, and Lamia knew it was time to return home. He walked slowly back to the mansion in Silverhill, his heart still light from the evening he had spent with Damian.
When Lamia returned home, however, he found his mother, Maxandra, waiting for him in the grand hall, her face filled with a mixture of worry and anger. The moment he stepped inside, she rushed toward him, her voice trembling.
"Lamia, where have you been? And even if you were sneaking out why stay out so late!" she exclaimed, her frustration clear, but beneath it was a deep worry for her only child.
"I'm sorry, Mother," Lamia said quickly, guilt washing over him, he never realized his mother knew of his habits of sneaking off. "I lost track of time."
Maxandra's anger quickly melted into tears, her hands shaking as she covered her face. "I was so scared something had happened to you. You know how dangerous the world can be, even in Raven Hollow."
Seeing his mother cry, Lamia rushed to her side, pulling her into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, Mother," he whispered, kissing her cheeks. "I didn't mean to make you worry. Please don't cry."
Maxandra held him close, her sobs quieting as she stroked his hair. "You're my only child, Lamia. I just want you safe," she said softly, her voice filled with love and fear.
"I know," Lamia murmured, "and I promise I'll be more careful."
From behind them, Lamia's father, looking pleased, stepped into the hall. He had witnessed the tender moment between his wife and son, his heart warmed by the love that filled the room.
"You know, Lamia," his father said with a soft smile, "your mother only worries because she loves you more than anything."
Lamia nodded, understanding the depth of his mother's love, and he vowed once again to cherish and protect the bond he shared with both Damian and his family.
But as time kept on closing in he has no idea that everything was about to change.