Thank you everyone for your wonderful support so far! I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this chapter. :) I think I noted like 40 chapters ago that she had 6 Stella Stars. I think it would be better for the story if she had 7.

(Which will she achieve first, her 8th bolt or her 8th Stella? lool)

Elias Tobias - Sorry for the misunderstanding haha, I couldnt resist! You can think of that interaction as just one of the clues laid out for Damian. He'll figure it out eventually...

Natsuki Sawada - Thank you for your recent comments and your excitement!

Nora - Things are indeed getting spicy xD I apologise in advance hahaha

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The sex education at Eden College was not subpar by any means, but most classes received it at around 13-14 years old, which, for Damian, was now some time ago. The words 'Plan B' triggered something in his memory that he hadn't needed to recall in a very long time, but it was hard to remember exactly what it meant.

Even if Damian knew the details of what 'Plan B' meant in that context, his brain could not physically retrieve the information he needed. It was too busy grinding to a halt, and sending pulses of anger through every part of his body.

Was it before… or after… and it was supposed to stop… something? Right?

Damian had to think of the facts. If 'Plan B' was something that Dr Forger wanted her to do…

And Anya kept saying that she didn't want to do it…

Which meant that…

Damian's brain whirred, and yet at the same time, the cogs in his mind turned painfully slow.

Anya could be…

She could be…

Damian squeezed his eyes shut.

It just wasn't possible. A sick feeling twisted in his gut.

"Fine," Loid finally caved in. "I won't ask you to involve Damian."

Elation rushed through her, but Anya tried not to show it too much on her face. She didn't want her father to get the wrong idea.

It had been weighing on her all day. The fact that Loid had been following her and Damian since they left the school gates that morning was, in her mind, unforgivable, and even worse, Twilight's constant presence was just a reminder to Anya of the whole reason that she was there in the first place.

Of course Loid wanted to keep her safe, she knew that, but he had been spying on her throughout her life at school, monitoring her every interaction with Damian and her friends - but especially Damian. It had got to the point that Operation Strix smothered her every waking moment, suffocated her every interaction, strangled her ability to have her own life - and she had had enough.

The guilt had been slowly eating up at her, but it had never been more pronounced than when she was surrounded by lights with Damian.

He might have made fun of her before, they might have had a strained rivalry, a sort of bickering friendship - but that had all been changing since the new school year began. In the past few months Damian had been nothing but kind to her, he had stopped insulting her, had been doing everything in his power to help her catch up with her homework, to make sure she was okay, to check in when she looked upset. He had even fought beside her parents to bring her out of hell, and more than that, he didn't judge her for a second, nor did he fear her.

And what was she doing?

Spying on him. Using him. Even Anya knew that friends didn't do that.

Anya still wanted to help her father with Operation Strix. She couldn't not help him, after everything he did for her, but she had never been more sure that using Damian was not the way to do it. If she could get her last Stella Star, then she could bypass the friendship scheme entirely, and the perpetual weight on her shoulders wouldn't be so heavy.

If having an assassin for a mother taught her anything, it was that slow-acting poisons caused the most pain. Plan B had been poisoning her life and her friendships for years, and it was time for her to admit it, and finally end it.

Damian knew her past, and he still accepted her for it, but it didn't really hit her until he brought her to the light show. He did all of that, just to make sure that she was distracted, that she would have a moment free from worry, that maybe she could have a moment of respite or enjoyment, before having to face her stupid reality once more, and he didn't even know that wasn't even the end of the secrets she carried.

That was what triggered her guilt. She wanted so badly to confess her sin to him, to confess her unlikely and no doubt unwelcome role in his life - but he had heard her confession anyway (well, part of it), because he had heard her thoughts, and he still didn't hate her for it. (The incident still freaked her out of course, but in the face of her other worries, it would have to wait).

Maybe it was too late for Anya to start repaying him, or take away the damage already done, but if she wanted to give something back to him, then rescinding Plan B was where she had to start. So, when she saw her father's shadow moving in the trees through the window, Anya knew she had to take that chance, to end it there and then. If Twilight wanted to use Anya to take down Donovan Desmond, she could do that - without Damian.

Anya watched her father disappear between the trees, blending into the background once more, but she knew that he wouldn't fully retreat. Even though he stayed in the vicinity for her safety, Anya and Loid had come to an agreement that he would interfere as little as possible with her school life, so that he didn't arouse any suspicion.

Once she fully witnessed his shadow melt into the trees, Anya turned back to head into the hotel courtyard.

So it was a surprise when she turned the corner, and saw Damian Desmond frozen and clinging to the wall.

Her stomach plummeted to the ground.

"Sy-on!" she gasped, and flicked her gaze behind her. "What are you doing here?" Did he see anything? Did he hear what they were talking about? Did he suspect anything?

"Hey," Damian said, surprised. "I was um, looking for you." He used his palm as leverage to push himself back from the wall, and carefully wiped the dust off his hands.

It didn't escape her notice that he looked exceptionally red, even in the warm glow of the receding sunset. He had the same guilty expression on his face that she did when her father caught her watching cartoons instead of doing homework.

"I was going to ask you… um…"

Damian couldn't even look her in the eyes, and Anya resisted the urge to read his thoughts. If it was important, he would ask her himself. Although, it looked as though he was straining to say what was on his mind, to the extent that Anya genuinely worried if he might actually burst while trying to get the words out.

He sighed wearily, seemingly having reached some sort of conclusion, or perhaps he had just resigned himself, and he rubbed the back of his neck in something that looked like embarrassment.

"Are you… in some kind of… erm…" He gulped. "Trouble?"

Anya blanked, and gave him an innocent look. "What do you mean, Sy-on?"

What did Damian mean by 'trouble', she wondered, because obviously the answer was an inescapable yes. Her life had been a mess since Loid Forger adopted her. The weight of her family's secrets crushed her, she was being pursued by an insane scientist, her powers were growing beyond her control, and she was slowly losing control over her life, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. If Damian needed an answer from her, he was going to have to be a little more specific.

"Uh," his face grew redder and redder. "Um."

Anya raised a thin eyebrow at Damian, silently communicating that whatever it was that he wanted, he would have to say it out loud.

"The people who took you didn't… do other things… to you, did they?" By the time Damian finished his sentence, he had strained his voice so much that it was just a wheeze.

"Other things?" Anya raised an eyebrow. What was Damian talking about?

On a normal day, Anya knew that Damian had some difficulty with looking people in the eyes, but he had never avoided eye contact with her this much before. It was almost painful to watch. The flush on his face travelled down his neck and met his collar, and Anya wouldn't have been surprised if his blush was all over his body.

Wait. Strike that thought.

"Look," Damian forced an exhale. "Um. If you need some kind of help, you can tell me. I can… help. I would make sure that you're looked after and… anyone else who needs it."

Okay, now she was really confused. "What are you talking about?" Anya implored him.

"Oh," Damian blinked at her. "So you're not…?"

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something else, and then quickly shut it again. "It's nothing. Forget it."

Anya resigned herself to the fact that her Sy-on boy was giving her nothing to go on, and even though the thought of it made her feel guilty, she wondered if reading his mind was the only way to understand what the fuck he was trying to say.

She used to read his mind all the time without permission, and she knew it wasn't the same anymore, but she had a powerful suspicion that she needed to understand him. Anya steeled herself, and ventured into his mindspace.

And what she saw shocked her.

He had heard her talk about something called 'Plan B', but without the crucial context that he needed to understand it, Damian had made the only other connection that was available to him, which was: 'Plan B', the emergency contraceptive.

Damian thought she was pregnant?!

"Oh!" she exclaimed, suddenly understanding why Damian was so embarrassed to say his worries out loud, and she raised her hands as if in surrender. "No, it's not like that!"

Strangely, her vague reassurance did little to aid Damian's relief. "Ah, okay. Um."

Anya tensed, waiting for Damian to say something, to accept her explanation and move on, but Damian looked more stressed than usual, and whatever was on his mind clearly weighed on him.

Damian ducked his head. "It's just…" He exhaled a ragged breath, and braced himself. "Anya, what happened in the lab?"

His imploring eyes bore into her, and she wanted to tell him, she really did, but Anya's secretive instincts came back in full force. She steeled herself and turned away. "You don't want to know."

"I asked, didn't I?" he forced a weak laugh, but then he lowered his voice, and it raised goosebumps across her skin. "I just think that if I knew some things, then maybe I'd be able to help you out."

Well she wasn't expecting that.

"Like what?" Anya blurted.

"I helped you out in the nurse's office, right? So like... I dunno, other times."

A flush rose in her as she remembered his valiant effort to distract her during her vaccination. He didn't even think twice to help her. Anya had tried so hard over the past week to act normal around Damian, to forget that he had devoted so much energy to helping her through her fear when he really didn't have to, and he had said so many kind things to her, and because she was reading his mind, she knew that he had been telling the truth the whole time. His earnest declaration scared her - but she couldn't explain why. So she pretended to act normal, hoping that whatever feeling that fizzed inside her would just dissipate on its own.

…Maybe if Damian knew about some of the other things that happened, she wouldn't have to feel so alone.

She could understand where he was coming from. Not even her parents knew the full extent of the abuse she was subjected to, and Anya had spent the last few weeks wondering how much she should tell them, but it felt like a weight in her stomach. How could she tell the people who loved her most in the world how hurt she really was? It would destroy them.

There had been times over the past few weeks where she had tried to tell her parents, but it was too hard. In an effort to practise saying the words out loud, she attempted to write them in a diary instead, but even that felt impossible. It just wouldn't come out of her. However kind Damian's offer was, Anya knew that she just was not ready.

A stone dropped in her gut, and Anya averted her eyes, trying to collect herself. "I want to tell you, but…" her voice grated in her throat. "It's too hard right now. I can't do it yet, but… I will. Later."

"Okay," Damian whispered, but then rather uncharacteristically he added: "Do you promise?"

Anya felt that she had no choice but to nod, but it was the right thing to do. Just that simple movement visibly loosened Damian's shoulders, clearly giving him a level of comfort that she couldn't measure.

He opened his mouth, possibly about to ask her something else, but he closed it quickly. Instead, Damian reached out, and patted her lightly on the head. For a reason she couldn't identify, the heat of his palm rooted her to the spot.

"That's good enough for me," he said, and the beginnings of a smile tugged on his lips. "Come on then. Let's go back."

Anya watched Damian's back as he walked away. He did cut a striking silhouette, even with both hands stuffed into his pockets. She inhaled a short gasp when the evening winter sunlight caught the shine of his hair, casting an ethereal glow around him.

But when he looked back and caught her eye, Anya's heart jumped out of her chest.

For once, Damian's face did not redden as soon as they made eye contact, nor did he immediately look away. His golden gaze held her there, unashamed and unafraid, and a warm smile crept on his face. "Are you coming?"

She felt as though trapped in headlights, and something indescribable crashed into her. She had never seen him smile like that.

No, that wasn't just it. He only smiled like that for her.

"Damian…"

At the sound of his name, Damian stilled, and turned perfectly towards her. "What is it?" His eyes carried such caring concern for her, and Anya wondered how she had never seen it before.

All the times he stared at her, hoping to one day run his fingers through her hair. When he held hands with her in the thunderstorm, when he stood up for her, when he blushed furiously at any mention of them being together. When he reassuringly squeezed her hand in the protective darkness of the cinema.

When he promised to keep her secret. When he returned her hug, shyly, afraid she would break if he squeezed too hard. When he stammered and stuttered around her, or any mention of his or Anya's love life. When he waited at the bus stop for her, when he walked her home, when he caught her as she stumbled from the pavement.

She gulped, and suddenly she knew.

The proverbial penny dropped.

"Do you…"

When he floated with her in the tank, desperately trying to free her. When he carried her out of the place that had haunted her for so long. When he brought her roses and chocolate covered peanuts to the hospital. When he held her hands in the nurse's office, and comforted her, and told her she was brave over and over again, and didn't even mind or move when she cried on him, and stroked her hair like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her conversation with her Papa flashed before her eyes.

Why did you come for me? She had sobbed.

He had smiled so tenderly at her, like he knew something that she didn't. Because we love you, Anya.

We love you.

We love you.

We love you.

Her hands shook, and for a terrible moment, Anya feared that she couldn't speak.

Damian's brows creased in real concern as he crossed over to her in two shorts strides, and for the first time ever, Anya dared to look up into Damian's golden eyes through a different perspective. She had never quite realised just how much he towered over her, and suddenly Anya wanted to shrink into herself. How did she not notice how much he had grown? That he was becoming a man before her eyes?

His eyes. His eyes. She had seen them dozens of times before, but how did she miss the way he looked at her like she was the only one in the room? Like she was the only one in the whole world that mattered? How did she never see how they smouldered for her?

Her legs quaked as her entire reality crumbled beneath her.

Green eyes met gold.

Lips parted in a steadying breath.

"Do you… love me?"