Seraphine

fourteen

Seraphine 

"What?" Is all Seraphine can manage as she turns her head to see Dr. Michaels roll up his sleeves, revealing delicious ink covering both his forearms, Dr. Wern give her a wink with anger and danger evident in his eyes, and Dr. Brummer down the rest of his drink before slamming the glass down on the table so hard it shakes. 

She turns back to look at Dr. Reeves, who is staring at her with an intensity she hadn't seen before. His eyes drop to her neck, and she swallows thickly.

"We know what's happening between you two, Seraphine." Seraphine's eyes widen, and she immediately starts to shake her head. 

"What do you mean? There's nothing--" Dr. Reeves tightens his grip on her waist, and Seraphine stops talking. 

"Don't lie to me Seraphine. We know he's abusing you. We're here to help you; we need to help you." Dr. Reeves' eyes soften as he speaks, and Seraphine feels tears rush to the surface again. 

God, I've been crying way too much this week. 

"I-I don't--" 

"Seraphine." Comes a warning, in a dark tone. It makes Seraphine drop her head, letting her blonde hair hide her face. 

She thought keeping it down would've protected her neck from intrusive gazes, but as she looks through her lashes to find Dr. Reeves staring directly at her bruises, she knows she was wrong. 

"Professor--" his grip on her waist tightens again, drawing a gasp from her lips. Gray eyes flit back up to meet blue ones.

"Luca," he corrects her gently, and Seraphine's breathing stops. 

"W-What?" Her eyebrows draw together, as if she didn't hear him right. He licks his lips, her eyes drawn to the motion, and then skirt away when she sees those same lips quirk up in a smirk.

Her cheeks flush, and she tries to get off of her professor's lap.

Except, he doesn't let her. 

"My name. Luca. It's only fair, Seraphine." She pauses and looks back at him, trying to get a read on him. All she can see are steel walls, and she remembers that this man is one of Chicago's greatest psychologists--he's not going to show her his secrets.

"Professor, this is--" 

"Inappropriate?" He quirks an eyebrow, looks down at his bottom half, the one Seraphine is currently sitting on, and looks back up at her. Seraphine, mortified, tries to get off his lap once more. 

"Please, just...let me go," she begs, more tears stinging the back of her eyes as she shakes her head. Dr. Reeves' hands flex on her waist, and she catches his jaw tick.

"We're never letting you go back to him again, Seraphine." 

"You don't understand, please, just--" 

"No, Seraphine." His tone is clipped, and she flinches away from him. At this, Dr. Reeves' gaze softens once more, and one of his hands comes away from her waist to rest on her cheek. "Let us help you, sweetheart. Please." 

Seraphine doesn't even realize she's crying until his thumb swipes under her eye, and a sob breaks past her lips. That's all it takes for Dr. Reeves to surge forward, his other hand coming to rest on the back of her head as he cradles her into his chest. 

Seraphine finally touches him for the first time that night, letting her arms fall from her middle and wrap around his neck. She squeezes him tightly, crying into his shirt. 

She weeps for herself, for her dignity, for her old Derek, for the seventeen year old girl who fell in love with the wrong boy. 

"It's okay, princess. It's alright. I've got you, I'm here." Dr. Reeves clutches her to his chest, burying her face into his neck and inhaling her scent. 

She breathes in his own, and finds herself surprised to find him smelling like warm citrus. 

"You smell like lemons," she observes, her voice small, and Dr. Reeves smiles into her hair. 

"You smell like home, sweetheart." He counters, and she gasps softly. 

"Professor--" his hand drops down to her hip and he squeezes it, effectively shutting her up.

"Luca," he demands, and Seraphine pulls her head away from his chest. Her vision is blurred from crying, her nose stuffy and her lips still quivering. 

"L-Luca," she tries on her tongue, and though it's not as smooth as the first night she said his name, it still sounds perfect. It sounds right. 

Dr. Reeves--Luca--settles his other hand on her other hip, staring at her as if he's trying to solve a puzzle. She does the same, confusion clouding her thoughts like it always does. 

"I...I don't understand," she starts, dropping her gaze to his chest and letting her hand slide from the back of his neck to his heart. 

She knows this is wrong, knows how much trouble she could get in, but...Jesus, his hands are so warm, so gentle, so caring and sweet. And the way he looks at her, god. 

"Don't understand what?" Luca asks, and Seraphine looks back into his eyes. 

"Why...why you're helping me," she finally says, her eyebrows furrowing. Luca opens his mouth to speak, but Seraphine shakes her head, and it's like a dam breaks; more words spill from her red-painted lips. 

"O-Or, why you asked me to be your assistant, or why you four are all friends, or why it feels like every time I walk into one of your lessons my whole body feels like it's on fire," the last confession comes out quietly, and Seraphine's eyes flit back to the dragonfly on Luca's neck. 

She doesn't notice, but Luca's eyes are wide, and he's stopped breathing. It takes him a few seconds to jumpstart his brain, and when he does, he quickly wraps his arms around his princess and stands, making her squeal. 

"What--" Seraphine grabs his shoulders as he swings her around, holding her sideways against his body. She burns in embarrassment as his fingers slip between the holes in her fishnets, but he's not looking at her face. He's staring at the door. 

"I'm taking you home, Seraphine."