Array
(
[text] =>

Damien's POV

I've always been good at reading people. Comes with the territory, I suppose. You learn early on that it's the difference between life and death. One wrong assumption, one missed sign, and you're done. I'm still here, which means I'm pretty damn good at it.

So, when I walked into that classroom on my first day at this ridiculous excuse for a high school, I sized up the important people in an instant. I knew which ones I could use, which ones I could buy, and which ones would try to test me.

And then there was him.

Luca Moretti.

My chaos magnet.

I was already irritated when I walked through the cafeteria door. This whole playing normal thing wasn't exactly my style. But that's what you get when you grow up in a mafia family; you don't get to make all your own choices. Sometimes, you have to do things for the sake of optics.

When those boys tried to size me up almost immediately after I entered, I actually grinned.

When my beloved Luca 'came to my rescue' I couldn't help but laugh.

Even after as we sat together for lunch that day, Luca sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I had that."

I smirked. "Sure you did, sweetheart."

"I do have a name."

"I know."

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Well, uh. Thanks, I guess. Even though I totally could've handled that myself."

"Mm-hm."

"I could have."

"Of course."

And just like that, I had a new favorite game: press every one of Luca's buttons and watch him explode like a firecracker.

All I know is that from the moment I met him, one thing was clear— Luca was a chaos magnet, and I, being a highly intelligent man with an appreciation for fine things, immediately decided I needed to keep him around.

Not to protect him.

Well, okay, a little bit to protect him.

But mostly? Because he was hilarious.

And way too cute for his own good.

See, the thing about Luca is that he doesn't try to be a troublemaker. He just is one.

Like one time I saw Luca, he was arguing with a vending machine.

Not in the normal, frustrated, "why won't my chips drop" way. No. This boy— scrawny, too expressive for his own good and absolutely adorable—was full-on threatening the machine like it owed him money.

"I swear to God, if you don't give me my candy bar, I will shake you," he hissed, smacking the side of it.

I stopped in my tracks, completely mesmerized.

Because who threatens a vending machine?

It was the most entertaining thing I had seen all day. So, naturally, I had to mess with him.

"You know," I drawled, stepping up beside him, "most people just accept defeat and walk away."

"Most people are cowards," he shot back.

Oh. Oh, I like him.

With a smirk, I casually reached into my pocket and pulled out a knife. Luca's eyes widened as I used it to wedge the candy bar loose. It tumbled down to the slot, and I grabbed it before he could react.

"Here," I said, holding it just out of reach, "I believe this is yours?"

He snatched it from my hand, squinting. "I could've done that myself."

"Sure," I said, amused. "But I saved you from embarrassing yourself in front of the entire school. You owe me one, sweetheart."

And just like that, Luca went from cautious curiosity to full-blown glare mode. His face turned a little red, and for some reason, that made my day. He looked adorable when he was annoyed.

"I don't owe you anything," he snapped, shoving his candy bar into his pocket like it was a precious artifact.

I grinned. "I like you."

Luca looked me dead in the eye. "Well, I don't like you."

And that was it. I was sold.

It didn't take long for me to realize that Luca had a talent for getting into ridiculous situations. Not because he was reckless. No, it was almost supernatural how mischief just found him.

One day, he decided to sneak into the teachers' lounge, convinced they had a secret snack stash. I found him five minutes later, tangled in a mass of chairs, mid-escape, because apparently, he had tripped over his own feet trying to get out before anyone saw him.

"What are you doing?" I asked, barely containing my laughter.

Luca, stuck halfway out the window, turned his head to glare at me. "What does it look like? Help me!"

"I dunno," I said, leaning against the doorframe. "I think I like this view. Ever considered a career in escape artistry?"

He groaned. "Damien. Help me."

Yeah. Like I was gonna pass up an opportunity to see him struggle just a little more.

I took my sweet time strolling over. "What's the magic word?"

"Help me before I murder you?"

"Mm, that's two magic words, actually," I teased. "Try again."

Luca huffed, then muttered something under his breath.

I grinned. "What was that? Didn't hear you."

A murderous glare. "Please."

Satisfied, I pulled him back inside—just as the janitor walked into the room. Luca turned pale, grabbed my hand, and bolted before the poor old man could yell at us.

And that was how I ended up with a tiny human disaster clutching my wrist as we tore through the school halls, both laughing like maniacs.

I decided right then that keeping Luca entertained was my new hobby.

[text_hash] => 3e811323
)