Does she mean "me"? Has Anya fallen in love with… me?

Damian stared down at me with fresh eyes. Horrified, incensed, and supremely happy all at once. I didn't understand why they glistened with savoury delight like that, but he did his upmost to appear deeply upset. Both Raul and I stayed there, kneeling on the floor with scrub brushes in our hands, unsure what to make of my master's abrupt arrival.

Damian's eyebrows arched in fury. "What do you think you're doing in here?! I told you to wait in our…. I mean "my" wing of the manor!" He's yelling at me? For….. cleaning a floor? Why's he so mad? I was beyond confused at the present, which I'm sure you could see in my expression. "Y-Yes, well uh…. I-I was going to…. to dust some books in the library, but Madame de Bossé told me to come clean in here," my voice stammered a little. This was the first time I'd seen Damian angry with me…. though I could still detect that sense of profound, unadulterated glee in his pupils.

Damian's back arched upright, clearly unsatisfied with my answer. "And you listened to her?!" "Uh…. Y-Yes, sir? She is the housekeeper; I didn't think it wise to disobey her." "So you'll disobey me instead?!" My master snapped back, making me flinch a bit. Raul's thin hand stretched up into the air to calm the tension building in the room. "Sir, please. Miss Anya was just doing what she thought was right and minding her superiors." "It doesn't matter what de Bossé or anyone else says. It is ME she must mind! Just look at yourself. I NEVER would have permitted you to do such a laborious chore!" Uh….. That was a weird thing for him to say. Is that his way of telling me I shouldn't be doing this? My fingers curled inward slightly as I had to remind myself of the severity of the situation. Now was not the time to break out in a blushing, swooning fit. My mouth opened a sliver but all that came out was an unflattering "uhhhhhhhhh…."

His sharp glare immediately moved down to my kneecaps, or the skirt covering them. Boy did they widen in horror when he spotted the blood starting to pool on the fabric. "And you're bleeding!" "Huh? Oh," Raul and I blinked down to my red-stained dress. Damian hissed through his clenched teeth in frustration; his hands formed into fists. "I've had enough of this. Come here," he ordered me directly. Peering back up to him, Raul helped me stand to my feet while remaining on the floor himself. Damian brushed past me, heading over to the sink where he instantly grabbed a clean white cloth. Turning on the fossette, he wet the cloth before running it over a bar of soap. He then looked back at me, beckoning me forward.

"Come here," he repeated his initial command, a little gentler this time. With some mild hesitation, I stepped over, pausing right beside him. Damian pulled a small wooden stool over in between us and looked into my eyes. "Show me your knee." "Master Desmond!" My cheeks flushed utterly scandalized. Raul also appeared equally appalled by the request, ogling Damian with huge eyes. The only one who DIDN'T understand the implications of what was just asked of me was Damian himself. Really?! How could he not grasp the optics of the situation, and with Raul in the room too! A lady doesn't just hike up her skirt; it simply isn't done! And Damian being a gentleman SHOULD know that. Instead, however, he glanced at me with the most innocent- and expectant- of faces. It truly didn't occur to him the impropriety of what he had asked just now…..

I felt like I was going to die from blushing so hard when he asked me again, with more firmness and dominance now. "Show me your knee." Oh my god; this isn't happening. This ISN'T happening! What should I do? What if the madame walks on in and sees us like this? What would she do to me? A woman has no business showing that much leg to anyone except her husband…. right? I hastily glanced to Raul, completely uncertain what to do. He looked back my way and shrugged his shoulders while nodding simultaneously. I guess that means "yes"? Gulping quietly, my head spun back around.

Very, VERY reluctantly, I set my foot up on the stool and began to pull back my shirt, inch by inch. Damian waited patiently until he could see my bloody, torn-up kneecap. Then, not wasting any time, he proceeded to start to clean it with the soapy cloth. I hissed, wincing my face at the immediate pain pulsating up through my leg into my body. I'm sure Damian must have noticed my reaction, but that didn't stop him from thoroughly cleaning my wound. Once that was done, he tore a strip off another dry white cloth. He very carefully wrapped it around my knee into a make-shift bandage, much like the one that I made for Raul's hand that one time.

He did the other knee, not saying a word the entire time. None of us did. I think Raul was too dumbfounded to say anything. I bet the thought going through his mind now was something along the line that he didn't think anyone from the upper-class could be so… attentive. Neither did I, for that matter. Damian cleaned my kneecaps so gently and completely; he was fully concentrated on the task at hand while he was doing it. When he was done, his back straightened up and we looked at each other wordlessly. We beheld each other…..

Eventually he put the bloody cloth back into the sink and sighed in relief. "There, that's done. Do NOT remove the bandages until your injuries have fully healed." "U-Um yes, sir; of course," my shoulders flinched a tiny bit. Damain looked at me a moment, letting his gaze soften on it's on accord naturally. The faintest hint of grin overcame his lips, which he didn't try to suppress. Shutting his eyes for the briefest of moments, he began to head towards the kitchen door, seemingly expecting me to follow him. But before he crossed the threshold, he peered back around my way from over his shoulder.

"Can you walk?" "Yes, sir. I think so." "Good. You and I need to go have a little chat. You remember what I said would happen if you disobeyed me again," he said with that silky voice of his, and my eyes widened. My heart was beating like never before; my mind was in such a rapid tizzy that I thought I might faint. He's going to "punish" me for listening to Madame de Bossé and injuring myself….. And we were both excited about that.

Raul, however, looked petrified at this. Suddenly glancing his way, forgetting that he didn't really know Damian's true character yet, my hand reached out to grab his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It'll be alright." "Miss….." He gazed back at me worriedly, but I simply met this concern with a kind, loving smile. "I'm doing it for "him", remember," I said with tenderness, not noticing Damian's entire face light up with joy and embarrassment. He wasn't looking in my direction when I gazed back his way, but off to the side at the wall. His hands were balled into tight, emotional fists again, though I didn't know where this sudden anxiety came from on his part. My eyebrow lifted puzzled as Damian struggled to get the words out from his throat.

"Y-Yes, well. Come along, Anya." Oh Damian, I inwardly cringed; he shouldn't call me by my first name like that when others were present. Raul's head shot in his direction scandalized again, which Damian didn't see. Raul's hand reached up to take mine from his arm. He held onto my hand for a second, squeezing it lightly. "Miss?" "I'll see you later, Raul. Please don't stay here finishing up these floors by yourself. Let me take the fall for it from Madame," I told him, earning a sharp glare from my master. "You most certainly will not. Now let's go," he crossed under the threshold, and I rolled my eyes, grinning wildly to myself. Raul took note of my sincere smile, holding onto my hand a moment longer. Our eyes met one last time that night; mine happy and his astonished. "What is it you have? What is that something you have…..

That's making him so soft and human?"