Damien Blackwood

Damien Blackwood leaned against his locker, lazily twirling his locker key between his fingers as he observed the chaotic bustle of Oakwood High’s hallways. Students kept their distance, throwing him wary glances and moving aside as if he were a storm cloud hovering in their midst. It was a normal day for Damien—another day of barely contained restlessness and the strange satisfaction he got from watching people’s reactions around him.

There was a thrill to it, one he couldn’t deny. From his leather jacket, rough around the edges and worn from days spent sneaking around town, to the ever-present smirk that seemed to rest permanently on his face, Damien was a force no one dared to cross.

Damien didn’t consider himself a bad guy, per se. He just had a way of bending the world to his will, doing whatever he pleased and ignoring the consequences. The teachers had given up on him a long time ago. To them, he was a lost cause, a student who would only bring trouble and cause disruptions. His grades weren’t terrible—he was smart, actually, though he kept that hidden—but his attitude? That was what people noticed, and what kept him on the fringes of Oakwood’s social landscape.

At least, until Elies Robert had inadvertently thrown herself into his orbit.

Thinking about the look of sheer horror on her face when he’d read her “confession” out loud in history class brought a twisted sense of amusement to his otherwise dull day. Elies was different. She didn’t stutter in front of him like the other students, didn’t look at him like he was some kind of untamable beast. Well, not until today, anyway.

A part of him felt… intrigued by her. She was quieter than most, yet there was a fire in her eyes when she spoke up. And now, knowing that she’d had the audacity to write a love letter—whether it was meant for him or not—only fueled his curiosity. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why he wanted to see that fire in her eyes again, but he did.

“You’re staring into space again, Blackwood. People are gonna think you’re daydreaming,” drawled Jake, his best friend and, probably, the only person in school who could talk to him like that without facing his wrath.

Damien gave him a smirk, pocketing his key and pushing himself off the locker. “Since when do I care what people think?”

Jake chuckled. “You? Never. But you’ve been quieter than usual. Let me guess, it’s about that little love letter you got.”

Damien shrugged, unbothered. “What about it?”

Jake raised his hands in surrender. “Nothing, man. Just saying it’s funny seeing you mess with someone like Elies. Thought she’d be too plain for your tastes.”

He didn’t reply, just shrugged again as he leaned back, letting his gaze travel over the hallway until it landed on Elies, who was standing by her locker across from them. She was nervously fiddling with her books, her expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

Her reaction today had been priceless. She’d stammered, blushed, even tried to grab the letter back. It wasn’t that Damien wanted her in any way—not in the usual sense, anyway. But there was something strangely satisfying about the way her world seemed to revolve around that letter now, especially since he held all the control.

Damien didn’t understand love. To him, love was just a concept, an excuse people used to tie themselves down, make themselves vulnerable, and give others power over them. He had seen it with his own eyes, had watched his own family fracture and shatter under the weight of so-called “love.” No, love wasn’t something he believed in. The very idea of being vulnerable to someone else was something he despised.

Ownership, however—that was different. Ownership was control, stability, certainty. Ownership meant nobody could hurt him because he held all the power. And right now, he owned the power over Elies, even if she didn’t realize it yet.

“Elies is looking at you again,” Jake teased, nudging Damien with his elbow. “Wonder what she’s thinking about.”

Damien smirked, his gaze locked on her as she cast a glance in his direction and then quickly looked away, her face turning pink. “Probably wondering when I’m going to give that letter back,” he replied coolly. “Or maybe she’s finally realizing what she got herself into.”

Jake shook his head, chuckling. “Man, you’re a piece of work. But hey, it’s entertaining watching her squirm.”

“Entertaining,” Damien repeated, his smirk widening. “Exactly.”

The bell rang, and the hallways began to clear as students filed into their respective classrooms. But Damien took his time, watching Elies as she disappeared into her next class, her shoulders hunched and her face downcast. The thrill of getting under her skin made him feel alive in a way nothing else did, not even his usual pranks or rebellious stunts.

“Come on, man,” Jake urged. “Let’s get to class before Mrs. Donnelly starts another lecture.”

Damien rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets as they headed down the hallway. School was a drag, but he knew how to make it interesting. And today, that meant keeping Elies on her toes.

---

In the following days, Damien continued his subtle torment of Elies. Whenever he passed her in the hallway, he’d give her a sly smirk, just enough to remind her that he still had her letter. And if she happened to glance his way in class, he’d tap his pocket where he kept it, just to watch her face turn red.

He loved how flustered she got, how she seemed to be on edge every time he was near. He never pushed it too far, never crossed the line into outright cruelty—but he kept her in a constant state of suspense, letting her stew in her own embarrassment.

During lunch one day, he was sitting with Jake and their usual group when he noticed Elies sitting a few tables away with her friends. She looked… different. For the first time, she didn’t seem as timid. Instead, she was glaring in his direction, her eyes narrowed as if she’d finally decided to confront him.

He leaned back, smirking as he took a sip of his drink. If she wanted to bring the fight to him, he’d be more than happy to play along.

“Looks like your little friend has a bone to pick with you,” Jake remarked, following his gaze.

“Good,” Damien replied, his smirk widening. “I was starting to wonder when she’d get tired of hiding.”

As if on cue, Elies stood up, crossing the cafeteria with determined strides. The room fell silent as she stopped in front of his table, her arms crossed and her expression fierce.

“Damien,” she said, her voice firm but quiet enough to keep the scene from becoming a full-on spectacle. “I need to talk to you.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed, while Damien merely shrugged, giving her his trademark smirk. “About what, Robert?”

“You know exactly what,” she replied, glaring at him. “I want my letter back.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his seat as he took his time to respond. “Oh, that letter? The one where you poured your heart out?”

Elies flushed, but she didn’t back down. “Yes, that one. I want it back. It wasn’t meant for you, and you have no right to keep it.”

He tilted his head, pretending to consider her request. “No right? I don’t know, Elies. I think I have every right. After all, you slipped it into my locker.”

“It was a mistake!” she insisted, her cheeks pink with frustration. “I thought it was Chris’s locker.”

“Ah, so it was meant for Chris,” he mused, watching as her face turned a deeper shade of red. “Interesting.”

She groaned, clearly regretting her choice of words. “Just… give it back, okay? You don’t understand what this means to me.”

Damien’s smirk faded slightly. “You think I don’t understand?” he said, his tone quieter but still laced with sarcasm. “Trust me, Robert, I understand more than you think. But maybe you don’t understand how things work with me.”

She frowned, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. “What do you mean?”

Damien leaned in, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “Once something’s mine, it’s mine. I don’t just give things back. And right now, that letter? It’s mine.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You… you’re unbelievable. It’s just a piece of paper! It doesn’t mean anything to you.”

He chuckled, leaning back again. “Maybe it doesn’t. But it means something to you. And that makes it worth keeping.”

Elies clenched her fists, clearly fighting to keep her composure. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “If that’s how you want to play it, then go ahead. But don’t expect me to keep quiet about this.”

With that, she turned on her heel and marched back to her table, her friends watching her with admiration. Damien watched her go, a small smile playing on his lips. She was feistier than he’d given her credit for.

“She’s....