Seraphine

eighteen

Seraphine

Seraphine's eyes flick to Dr. Reeves', finding his eyebrows raised in an expectant expression. She looks back at Dr. Michaels, who'd just kissed her cheek, only to find him walking away from her, deeper into the bathroom.

Which is gorgeous, bigger than any bathroom she's ever seen. The counter stretches the whole length of the long mirror, the tub is tucked into the corner under a frosted window, there's a whole separate room she figures is for the toilet, and the shower looks big enough for five people, with a shower head hanging directly from the ceiling in the middle of the black tile.

"Seraphine, answer him." Dr. Michaels' voice pulls Seraphine from her awestruck appreciation, and she blinks before looking at Dr. Reeves head on.

"Um, yes, I think so?" Her eyebrows furrow as she looks down at herself, seeing her black dress riding up her thighs and her garter belts on full display for the men, her fishnet stockings digging into her skin and leaving red marks.

A wave of nausea washes over her as she thinks of her professors seeing her dressed this scandalously, and then again when she remembers her earlier actions. She brings a trembling hand up to her lips and whimpers, tears coming to her eyes as she thinks of Derek.

You're a fucking slut.

"I-I have to go, I have to--" she jumps down from the counter, landing on unsteady feet, and immediately crashes to the ground.

She hits her head, and everything goes black.

~~~

When Seraphine wakes up, she's lying on the ground. Her senses awake before she does, and she smells a mix of citrus, cinnamon, pine needles, and the ocean. She feels the cold tile beneath her bare skin, can sense four pairs of eyes watching her.

With a gasp, she shoots up, groaning loudly as her hands fly to her pounding head. She feels something wet and warm on the crown of her head and flinches when she touches it. Her eyes open as she pulls her hand away from her head, and she sighs when she sees blood.

"How...how long was I out?" She asks, still staring at the blood on her hand.

It reminds her of Derek.

"Only a few minutes, angel." Seraphine recognizes Dr. Wern's voice, and her eyes flit to his first. She sees concern in his green gaze, and she notices he's kneeling next to her.

Her eyes continue around the room, and find that all four of them are surrounding her, each looking at her with varying levels of worry. She manages a small smile, trying to appear strong.

"I'm okay," she says, but none of her professors move. She sighs again and tries to lift herself up to her knees, but Dr. Brummer places a hand on her shoulder and keeps her in place. "Really, I'm okay," she tries again, but Dr. Reeves shakes his head.

"You just fell and hit your head, sweetheart. You might have a concussion."

Seraphine doesn't think before the next phrase flies out of her mouth:

"I've had worse."

The air gets tense as the four men bristle, Dr. Wern sucking in a breath. Seraphine's eyes widen, her mind finally catching up with her tongue.

"N-No, I meant--I didn't mean--"

"Seraphine, we've all seen the bruises on your neck. Don't you dare fucking lie to us now." Dr. Reeves' words are so harsh they bring tears to her eyes, and she drops her chin to her chest. Her shoulders shake as she lifts a hand to her neck, going to rub it. She winces when she brushes a bruise, and sniffs.

"It's only happened once," she softly admits, and she can't believe herself for actually speaking about it. Then, she snorts humorlessly, and her hand tightens around her throat. "Twice." She amends her previous statement, her eyes staying glued to the floor.

"The first time was because..." she remembers yesterday's incident clearly, and without meaning to, her eyes snap to Dr. Wern.

His gaze widens, and he drops his head, swearing softly under his breath. When he lifts his head again, there are tears in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, angel. I never meant--god, I didn't think--" Dr. Wern lifts a hand and runs it down his face, taking in a shuddering breath. Seraphine reaches forward and takes his shaking hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

"It's not your fault. He's always angry now." She looks away from them, down at her dress, and then to the red marks on her wrists that are covered by makeup.

As if sensing where she's looking, Dr. Brummer's hand comes to rest in her free palm, and his fingers slide down her wrist. His touch is gentle, and slightly chilled, but she can't focus on that--she can only watch as he starts to rub away the cheap makeup covering the rope burns.

When part of them is revealed, she lets out a breath.

"What happened to you, Seraphine?" Dr. Brummer asks softly, holding her wrist in his large hand. Seraphine shrugs, unknowingly angering all four men.

"Seraphine, you know this isn't normal, right?" Dr. Michaels' voice is tight, angry, and makes her flinch.

"Yes. No? I don't know." She confesses, dropping her head and pulling her hands away from her professors. With a groan, she wipes her hands down her face, not caring that she's smudging her mascara or her lipstick. "He's--he's always loved me, been there for me, cared for me. This past year has just been...different," she says, furrowing her eyebrows before wincing and reaching up to gently probe the open wound on her head.

"Different how?" Dr. Reeves probes, but she shakes her head, not ready to tell them everything.

"I don't know. I shouldn't be telling you this," she starts to slip away from them, backing into the cabinet.

"Seraphine," Dr. Reeves warns, but she continues shaking her head, letting her head drop to her hands. Her shoulders tremble as her lips quiver, and she brings her knees to her chest.

"Just leave me alone," Seraphine whispers, knowing they can hear her. She doesn't want to cry in front of them, again.

"Angel--"

"Please," she begs, desperate for some alone time to sort through her thoughts and really think. When none of them respond, she grasps at straws. "I'll--I'll take the bath, I'll eat your dinner, I'll sleep here, just please."

Shuffling comes from above her head, and a few sighs sound. Footsteps echo on the bathroom tile, three pairs of them, and it's just her and someone else.

She peels her hands away from her face to see Dr. Wern.

He just stares at her neck. Seraphine sees all of his emotions in his eyes--guilt, anger, regret. Wanting to heal some of his turmoil, she leans forward and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him to her.

"Please don't blame yourself, Enzo." She knows it's risky, saying his name. He gasps softly and is still for a moment, before he buries her face into her hair and wraps his arms around her.

"It's my fault, babygirl, I can't--"

"It's not your fault. It's mine. I should've just...gone with him," she argues, blinking back tears as she thinks of following Derek into the bathroom and letting him have his way with her. Maybe if she'd just said yes, none of this would've happened, and her and Derek would be well on their way to healing their relationship.

"No." Enzo pulls away from her, his misty eyes hard. One of his hands comes from behind her and he gently cups her cheek, brushing away a few stray tears. "You absolutely did the right thing. He's not a good man, Seraphine. He would've taken what he wanted from you." He shakes his head as he looks away from her, his eyes clouded.

"He does anyway."