They stayed like that for a while, with Damian sitting against the wall while Anya draped herself between his legs and against his chest, secure and nestled in his arms. The top of her hair tickled his chin, but he didn't mind, didn't move, because

she

was there, in his arms, and that was the only thing that he cared about. The only thing that he had wanted for so,

so

long, and he was not about to let her go any time soon.

Exhaustion dragged at his eyes, but Damian kept his face in her neck, completely content to wait for his heart and breathing rate to quieten in that calm moment that they shared together. In, out, inhale, exhale, every breath was saturated with strawberry and mint, and the heat of her burned into his body, into his skin. His cheeks were sticky from saltwater, and so were hers, but neither felt the need to wipe them away.