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A grown man, dressed in a formal suit, no less-was playing with dolls.
'what the hell?' I thought, barely concealing my disgust.
'Didn't he gets enough toys as a child?'
I cleared my throat loudly to announce my presence..
"Woah," he shouted, realizing that someone had caught him in the most embarrassing moment of his life.
I couldn't help but smirk, watching him scramble to compose himself. His face was flushed with the color of embarrassment, and I wondered just how long he had been sitting here playing with... dolls.
The room smelled faintly of wood polish, mixed with a hint of floral-scented air freshener. It felt stuffy and overbearing, as if it had been sealed off for days, perhaps even longer.
A heavy wooden desk sat in the middle of the room, papers scattered across it, along with a few office supplies, some pens, a stapler, and an old computer with a flickering screen that seemed like it hadn't been touched in years.
The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with textbooks, certificates, and what appeared to be an odd assortment of old action figures and... dolls. I raised an eyebrow as I took in the scene.
'Is this the office of a grown man, or am i in some sort of bizarre day care center?'
"Uhmmm, you may co---me.....in," he stammered, still not looking me in the eye. His fingers twitched nervously, and I couldn't help but notice the way his hand hovered near the small, ornate teacup on his desk, as if trying to look busy.
"I'm already sitting.....you would know that if you weren't playing with.....your princess dolls," I said casually, mocking him with every word.
His face grew redder, and I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
"Well, if you had manners, you would've knocked before entering someone's room," he muttered, trying to hurt me with his words, his eyes still avoiding mine.
'Was he trying to mock me?, Was he really daring to question me like that?, Wait does he think I'm just some normal student or what?, I'm Damian; no one messes woth me. I spare death itself,' I thought, my anger simmering beneath the surface.
He was expecting an apology and a remorseful face, but I had other plans.
I paused, my silence giving him false hope that I was about to apologize. He leaned forward, his gaze flickering between me and his desk as though searching for a reason to act like this wasn't the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him.
I could see his eyes practically begging for a change in my tone, his lips parted, waiting for me to relent.
"Well-..." I drew out the word, making him more curious. His eyes grew wide, his posture stiffening, that hopeful look on his face growing by the second. He had that expression, the one that screamed, 'Go on, I'll forgive you.'
I smirked before continuing, "Well... even a dummy knows that locking your door is a normal thing to do for security... and not leaving it to swing open when someone knocks. But since a dummy can't seem to lock a door, even when they're doing something very stupid, like playing with dolls, who are you to be dumber than a dummy? Maybe you didn't have a childhood and grew up with mental issues. So, I can't blame you too much... I blame the person who hired you to be the principal of a school. I just hope you don't train psychopaths here. You should be at the asylum taking care of your brain tumor. PLAYING WITH DOLLS?? That's messed up, man! As grown as you are... you're an infant adult. Even a baby knows when and where to play with dolls. Sorry, sorry for your loss, but I just hope this whole thing isn't heritable. No one wants to see another generation of you doing this... And yet you'll be telling your children to aspire to be president. I mean, think. THINK before you speak. Just try to, please."
His mouth grew wider with each word I spoke. I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous he looked, but I stayed quiet. His face had turned a shade of pale that was almost comical, and I could tell I had him completely rattled.
The walls around us seemed to close in as the seconds stretched. The air was thick with tension, only broken by the sound of my voice and the rhythmic ticking of a clock on the wall that seemed to be mocking his failure.
I slipped my hand into my pocket, grabbed my phone, and snapped a picture of him. His face was priceless, his mouth hanging open in shock, his hands trembling at his sides. I had to hold back a laugh.
'What did he think?, He could sass me up? Oh hell no'.
I crossed my legs and mockingly smirked, watching him struggle to compose himself. It had been less than two minutes, and yet his mouth was still hanging open, like some wide-eyed fish gasping for air.
I stretched my hand out to him, smiling innocently. "Hello... I'm Damian,.. Damian Alaric..." I said sweetly, giving him my most innocent look.
He hesitated, unsure whether to take my hand. He glanced at it, then back at me, his face faltering. The confusion in his eyes was clear.
But it wasn't until he noticed the simmering anger beneath my calm exterior that he quickly rushed to shake my hand. His grip was shaky, as if he were holding on to something fragile. I could see beads of sweat starting to form on his brow.
'Was he nervous? Did he really think he had a chance against me?'
"Looking... for something?" I asked, my irritation starting to show as I watched him fumble.
"No... no... um, I just... uh... it's nothing. I just... uhm..." he stammered, his eyes darting everywhere except at me. He seemed like he was trying to cover up his discomfort, but it was clear that he had no clue how to handle this situation.
"Save it," I snapped, annoyed by his attempt to pretend he was looking for something. "We both know...you're not looking for anything."
He glanced up at me in shock, and his eyes quickly flicked away as though I had just exposed him for what he truly was a coward. He tried to read me, but failed miserably. I could see it in his eyes, that hint of doubt.
Before he could muster a response, a knock came at the door.
(Co-----co)
I turned, my body instinctively turning toward the source of the sound. The door was brand, fresh and polished but its wood creaking as though it had been through more than a few generations of failed administrations. I was drawn to it, my focus locked onto the doorframe as my body tensed.
My eyes were glued to the door, not because I wanted to avoid the principal, but because something about this knock... this moment... felt different.
The first time?
I couldn't read her. I couldn't read her at all. My gaze was locked on the door, and I felt my heartbeat quicken as I stared at the girl who had just walked in. She had striking blue hair, the kind of color that demanded attention.
It cascaded down her back in soft waves, and her face was framed by strands that shimmered in the light. She carefully adjusted her hair and straightened the little black e-girl skirt she wore, making sure everything was just right.
Her skirt hugged her hips tightly, accentuating her hourglass figure. She had a confident, almost calculating walk that synced her waist with her hip movements, one that carried an undeniable grace.
As she looked at me, I saw her eyes flicker toward the principal, who had started to speak, ushering her in.
'Damn..... Fuck..' I thought,
She stood before me, and I quickly stood up, not wanting to get caught staring at her ass. The temptation was there, but I forced myself to respect her, and I respected myself. I wasn't the kind of guy who got caught acting like a fool, especially not on my first day.
I stood to see the height difference between us, her head barely above my chest. I couldn't help but notice the way her presence seemed to dominate the room. Whatever class she was in, I had to get close to her. Or at least, I hoped there would be more like her. Or maybe, even better.
She moved a bit closer, and I caught a whiff of her scent—ocean breeze. It was calming, soothing, chilling... and sometimes cold?
I opened my eyes and tried to read her, but she was hard to decipher. She felt... cold, but there was something about her that seemed harmless. Maybe she was like me in some ways. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something about her didn't quite match the way she looked.
Reading people had become a habit for me. It wasn't something normal, it was something deeper. Something that set me apart from others. I wasn't human in the usual sense. There were things I had learned about myself, things I was still trying to figure out, things I had kept hidden for a long time.
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