Planetary Go: Damian and Iva (And Karma)

Iva stood outside the Great Hall, looking at the stars twinkling through the thin clouds of the night. How small she seemed in comparison to the universe, but her issues still seemed too large to handle. What if Karma was right about that stupid myth? Would she be embarrassed in front of the whole school?

A puff of breath rose up against her face; she probably shouldn't be out here, but the cold seemed to comfort her and she really didn't want to be in a room filled with people.

"Might as well try," She murmured, heading inside to find her date.

Unless, he was thinking the same thing she was and went to skip.

No, that was silly. Damian was nice; Iva was just being depressing and moody.

Walking in the the hall, a modest (forced) smile on her face as she strode confidently in her four inch heels, pretending that she was as bold as the planets themselves.

Damian loosened his tie. Ties were the worst idea in the universe. He bet girls came up with them. It was the sort of silly thing a girl would think up. He was wearing a rather ordinary two-piece suit in black, with a blue shirt that matched his eyes. (The tie was silver; and choking him.)

The boy had looked down to brush a stray piece of lint from his jacket. Truth be told, he felt nervous. The suit itself would have facilitated that, but on top of that, he was here with a date. Iva was nice enough, when she wasn't being bossy or stuck up. Which she wasn't to him, most of the time, anymore. She was pretty, too. Damian wasn't the only one who thought so.

It was just that Damian wasn't entirely sure if he actually liked her, liked her. The boy was certainly flattered that she seemed to like him - he'd never had anyone like him before. Furthermore, she was definitely one of the cooler girls he knew. Still...

Damian had looked up, mouth falling open slightly. She looked... "Beautiful," he breathed aloud, face flushing. He scratched at the back of his head, suddenly uncertain about what he should say or do next.

"My shirt doesn't match your dress," he said stupidly. My shirt doesn't match your dress? Seriously?? his mind screamed. "Um. Sorry. Uh... Wow."

Inside, Damian was banging his head against a wall.

"I noticed,"

Iva paused, her face alight. What? What? Iva wanted to physically hurt herself at that moment- how stupid!

"But, it matches your eyes nicely," She recovered easily, crossing her arms behind her back nervously. To her dismay, the curls had started to fall out of her hair, making it all look... long. She hoped he didn't mind; she at least looked better than she normally did.

"I like it very much," She ended shakily, tapping her heels against the floor.

"So what do we do here?"

Damian hastily patted his hair back down, straightening up as tall as he could... and she was still taller than him. Wasn't she usually the same height?? The boy glanced at her feet. Heels. Another silly things girls thought up to make short guys like Damian feel even shorter.

"Thanks..." he murmured awkwardly. "Um." The boy looked around for inspiration. "There's punch! I heard it tastes, alright. If, um, you'd like some."

Iva stared at Damian, confusion clouding her eyes. She bit her lip and looked away for a second, mumbling in Russian. She finally looked back, running her fingers through her hair.

"I do not understand," She whispered, a bit embarrassed for herself. She adjusted her gloves to mask this, but ultimately failed. "You want to punch me? Why would I taste a punch?"

Damian's eyes widened, but through some miraculous effort of will, he didn't laugh at the girl.

"No," he explained, "No, I don't to punch you. Punch is a type of juice. It's sorta... fruity tasting." The boy pointed to a large bowl of pinkish-red fluid on the end of one of the food tables.

"C'mon, let's go try some!" Without thinking about it, the boy took one of her gloved hands in his own, starting towards the table holding the sought after beverage.

Oh.

Oh.

Merlin's Beard, Iva cursed in her brain, he must think I'm dense!

About to apologize, Iva found herself pulled along by Damian and, dear lord, he was hold her hand. If she didn't have the gloves, it would have been a bigger deal to her, but this was...

Nice. Surprisingly nice.

She squeezed gently and followed behind him, a sall smile on her red face.

Damian only realized that he was holding Iva's hand when he felt her squeeze his own. Glancing back, he decided that the gloves must make it okay. I'll have to remember that, he thought, giving a small smile of his own.

Reaching the table where the punch bowl sat, Damian released the girl's hand so he could pick up two of the cups. "Punch is one of my favorite drinks," he said. "The-" Damian faltered a moment, expression falling. He hadn't really thought about his sister the last several months. Christmas had been one of her favorite times of the year.

"Theo never liked it much. She said it was too sweet," he said softly, a small smile returning to his face. "So she always gave me her share. Try it - it's really nice." Damian held out one of the cups for her to take.

Seeing his face crumble when he mentioned his sister, Iva felt her own face crease with pity. She would never feel that that over her own brothers, but maybe Theo was special.

She took the cup and took a small sip, wrinkling her nose slightly.

"Oh, it is very sweet!" She exclaimed from over the rim of the glass, tasting the watery, sugary goodness of the punch. She gave a smile, sipping again.

"But I like it,"

"Isn't it good?" Damian exclaimed, his own tentative smile becoming a grin once more. Not having anything else to say for a moment, the boy took a long of his own drink, casting about for something to talk about.

"The decorations are really pretty," he settled on, turning to look at her, he bit his lip a moment before adding, "and everyone looks really nice."

Iva looked around the room with her soft smile, her eyes reflecting the ice and snow.

"It reminds me of winter back at home; Frozen. But, it is like that most of the year," She joked weakly, a bit unnerved Damian said everyone looked nice. He was probably eyeing someone else, like JJ or this pretty Slytherin with the tiara.

"Yes, "She agreed, "Even the teachers dressed up. It is very nice,"

Karma glanced over from her conversation with another fourth year to where Ian and Iva were standing. They weren't comfortable enough for her to intervene yet, but she watched them over her cup of punch from across the room. She let out a laugh the almost sparkled in the air before turning her attention fully to the boy in front of her. It wouldn't do for Iva to think she was spying... not yet anyway.

The boy studied a flagstone intently for a moment. Okay, so maybe his compliment was a little too subtle... He wasn't all that used to complimenting girls, but clearly, he wasn't doing it right. If he was, Iva would have said 'thank you' or looked pleased or something, right?

"You look especially nice," Damian said, hoping that was closer on target, because now his face was red. "That's a really nice color on you. You should wear it more often."

And now, Damian felt like an idiot. Maybe he should've asked Master Chaos how a guy was supposed to compliment girls. Maybe he still could. Where was the man, anyway? Oh. He was with Sophia - no, Professor Wyse. Maybe not, then...

Damian turned back to her, tilting his head. "Do you miss it a lot?" he asked. "Russia, I mean?"

"Truly?" Iva smiled, tapping her hip against Damian's side playfully. She had noticed his red face and decided it was cute, like a child. "You are too kind, Dimi,"

She paused, realizing she had awkwardly shortened his name. "Damian,"

It was a bit awkward when he mentioned Russia, she realized as she looked into her glass with almost longing.

"Russia... is very different. I miss my family, my language, not having a funny accent, and the stupid nicknames our language creates." She stopped, realizing she would probably have to explain, "And I miss people understanding me,"

"I like your accent," Damian said without hesitation. "It's cute." He flushed even redder. "Um, that is..." The boy scratched his head and promptly decided to just drop it.

"So, is Dimi the nickname for Damian in Russian?" he asked. "You can call me that, if you want. I don't mind."

He had finished his punch and stared into his empty cup as though expecting it to offer him the answer to all of life's questions. Or at least tell him what he ought to do or say next.

"Do you... that is," Damian began. "Would you like to d-d-dance?" His voice cracked awkwardly, further adding to his embarrassment.

"You don't have to," he added quickly. "I mean, I know you don't like being touched, so dancing... Stupid me. How could I've forgot?" Realizing, belatedly, that he was babbling, Damian snapped his mouth shut and turned his attention to his cup, turning it round in his hands.

Stupid, stupid, stupid...

Iva flushed a deep maroon. Her accent? He liked it? She twisted her hands together happily.

"Thank you," She whispered, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "So nice,"

Pausing for a second, Iva thought about the "Dimi" comment. "Yes, it is nickname. Russian names are different that way; my name is not even truly Iva."

She smiled, holding her name a secret as he babbled about dancing. SH couldn't help but chuckle at his voice problem.

"Dimi. Shut up." Iva took the cup out of his cup and placed it on the table with hers, her face serious.

"We are going to dance because there is nothing wrong with me. Nothing." She insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him out the the dance floor.

Her voice dropped down low, so no one else could hear. "I have been working on it, yes?"

Damian stumbled a bit as Iva abruptly pulled him onto the dance floor. He felt even shorter at this proximity, but refrained from saying so. Putting one hand awkwardly on her waist, he gave a small nod and a smile.

"I noticed," he said, just as quietly. "You've been doing really good, lately. ... I'm glad." And he was. Damian couldn't imagine having to worry about everything he touched and whether or not it was crawling in germs and bacteria that might or might kill him. Just trying to comprehend it made him itch, so if Iva could get better, even a bit, he was happy for her.

Damian moved a bit slowly, trying to remember the steps from the 'class' one of the older Hufflepuffs had force him and some of the others to take. At the time, he'd moaned as loudly as anyone else, but now he was rather thankful. He'd look like a total idiot, otherwise.

Iva slowly placed one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his neck in an almost carress. For once, she looked down on him and realized she wanted to change this, but couldn't.

She daintly stepped through the dance, making sure everything was "lady-like". No one wanted a rough woman, she was sure.

"I am not as good as I wish to be," She admitted, looking away from those blue eyes in shame, "It.. it sucks."

Damian felt an odd... fluttering sensation as Iva put a hand on his shoulder and neck.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm surprised I haven't stepped on your toes, yet," Damian remarked. "I didn't even know anything about dancing until a week or two ago, so you're great!"

He looked up at her and away again. Then swallowed. "Y-you really do look pretty, tonight."

Iva snorted bitterly as she twilred her dress slight so it would fan out beautifully.

"My father is dancing nazi," She grumbled, "It is always 'Tradition, tradition, tradition,' with him,"

SHe looked at him, brushing a stray hair of off his forehead casually. "You are not too bad dancer and you look very nice too,"

Iva prided herself in getting used to compliments.

"Thanks," Damian said a bit shyly.

Having run out of things to say, he decided to focus on his dance steps - and not stepping on Iva's toes. He wasn't entirely sure he was remembering all the right steps, but Iva seemed to think he was doing alright, so Damian figured it was fine.

Just... don't trip... he reminded himself ruefully.

As the conversation lulled, Iva realized how tense she was. Un-bunching her muscles slowly, Iva actually managed to relax around Damian. She even ready to one of his misplaced steps with ease without any reaction.

"Is it.. okay.." iva lowered her head to his shoulder, barely resting her chin on it. Sure, it sort of made her uncomfortable, something touching her face, but this is what couples did, right? Her brothers danced like that. "If I rest my head?"

Damian flushed a previously unreached shade of scarlet. "Yeah," he said, a bit dazed. "I-I don't mind."

Iva put her head on his shoulder. Furthermore, in order to do so, she had to get a bit closer to him. It was somewhat of a miracle that the boy's brain didn't short-circuit.

A smile pulled at Damian's mouth. He decided he liked being like... this. It was rather nice.

Iva swayed quietly to the music, softly humming the familiar holiday song into Damian's shoulder. Her hands were on his shoulder now; the skin to skin thing still freaked her out a bit. In fact, the proximity itself was a bit weird for her, but that didn't send her into a panic.

She'd probably take a long bath later that night though.

"Are you going home over the break?" She murmured, avoiding stepping on his toes by a centimeter, "Seeing family?"

She hummed nicely, Damian thought, doing his best not to step on her feet. He was doing pretty good so far, though, it was probably more his doing than her own. The boy was a bit caught off-guard when she asked a question.

"Oh. No," he shook his head a bit. "I..." I can't go home. The thought had never really sunk in before, but it was, indeed, fact. He wasn't welcome there, anymore.

"No, I'm gonna stay here with Master Chaos," Damian said. "What about you? Are you going home?"