Seraphine

nineteen

Seraphine

Soft, classical music plays from a radio Seraphine had found in the linen closet. She smiles as she thinks that Dr. Michaels isn't as new-age as his fellow professors thought.

Seraphine lifts a hand in the air, cradling a large bubble. She sees her reflection, upside down, and sighs, bringing her other hand up to pop it.

The bubble bath Dr. Wern--Enzo--had drawn for her before he left smells amazing, just like Dr. Michaels. His woodsy scent comes from his body wash, and Seraphine wouldn't be surprised if she slowly became addicted to it.

Her and Enzo had laughed together when he accidentally put shampoo in the bath instead of body wash to create the bubbles, and she'd teased him of not knowing his soaps.

Seraphine smiles as she recalls his embarrassed blush. It was cute.

She lifts her hand to rub down her face, but her eyes catch her stinging wrist before she can. She pauses, turning her arm to look at the angry red marks from all sides. A sigh pushes past her lips, and she drops her arm back into the lukewarm water.

Seraphine debates staying in the bath until the water is freezing, wanting to avoid all of her professors and their concerned, knowing gazes, but she knows she can't.

I have to get home to Derek.

Another sigh. She'd been arguing with herself ever since she first got in the bath an hour ago about whether or not she should go back to Derek.

On the one hand, he was her boyfriend. She had obligations to fulfill as his significant other, and not being with four older men was one of them.

On the other...

Seraphine groans softly and lets her head fall back, her neck hitting the rim of the tub. She winces at the pain, but pushes through it.

On the other hand, he'd choked her. Twice. The second time, she thought he was going to kill her.

She's not safe with him, not anymore. But...she's afraid of what he'll do if she doesn't come home. Will he seek her out? They do go to the same school, after all. And what if her professors aren't there to protect her? What then?

Once her mind is made up, Seraphine pulls the plug of the tub and stands, reaching for the fluffy white towel Enzo had left on the counter for her. The water makes a gurgling sound as it sinks, and she steps out onto the plush white mat in front of the standing tub. Her toes wiggle, feeling the soft material underneath her feet.

She smiles as she wraps the towel around her and closes her eyes, imagining herself on a fluffy cloud. It's been a while since she's felt this clean, this...pampered.

And certainly not by Derek.

Seraphine steps in front of the mirror and wipes the mist away, focusing on her reflection. She looks brighter than she did when she stepped into her professors' grand mansion, less caked with makeup and lies. The cut on her forehead isn't bleeding anymore, just looks an angry red. The bruises on her neck stand out proudly, as do the rope burns on her wrists and ankles, but there's no makeup here for her to use, and she reasons that the men already know about her injuries.

She finds the clothes left by Enzo, and smiles as she sees a University of Chicago Alumni shirt. She wouldn't be surprised if all of them graduated from their school--it certainly would've solidified their positions as professors.

She wonders how long they've been working at the university as she drops the towel and slips on her dirtied panties and uncomfortable strapless bra, not wanting to go commando in front of her professors.

Seraphine sighs again and tries to block Derek's voice out of her head. You're a fucking slut.

Her ribs hurt as she bends down, and her wrists and ankles still sting from the water and soap bothering them. Her neck throbs as she swallows, and tears prick her eyes.

She sniffs as she pulls on the sweatpants, rolling up the ankles so they're not dragging on the ground, and then deciding to also roll the waist so they don't sag and reveal her black lace underwear.

The shirt smells like cinnamon and spice, and she doesn't stop herself from inhaling greedily. It's all Enzo, and she loves it.

Derek used to give her his clothes to wear, and she used to adore his scent, but now he keeps his clothes to himself and smells plain. Not bad, just...plain.

Seraphine leans over and turns off the radio, filling the bathroom with silence. She stays in the warm air for another minute, secluded from the world and feeling glad.

A knock sounds on the door, making her jump, and she turns to the white wood. With a sigh, she walks towards it, her bare feet warm against the cold tile.

She turns the handle and opens the door a sliver, enough to reveal Dr. Michaels staring down at her.

"It's been an hour, little dove. We were starting to worry," he reasons, and she nods before opening the door wider and letting him in. The professor watches her as he steps inside the bathroom. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm--" before she can answer, his hand rises and two fingers curl under her chin, lifting her head so she looks him in the eye.

"And this time, don't lie to me." Her eyes widen as she remembers their conversation a day prior. He knows I lied?

"I'm...better," she answers honestly, but still avoiding telling him that she feels like an absolute slut and a bitch at the same time--going behind her boyfriends' back and staying with her professors.

"Good. Now, let's get some food in you, hm?" He drops his hand from her chin only to grab hers, drawing a gasp from her lips. He smiles down at her and tugs gently on her hand, slotting their fingers together.

Seraphine's face burns.

Dr. Michaels leads her out of the bathroom, across his room, and into the lit up hallway. Seraphine's head is on a swivel, never able to stay in one place for too long as she finds new things to look at every few seconds.

The hallway is a light cream color, matching the exterior of the house, with black accents along the walls. There are four hall tables outside Dr. Michaels' door and the ones immediately next to his, and Seraphine guesses those doors are for the other professors.

"Come on, little dove." Dr. Michaels tugs on her hand some more, grinning back at her and pulling a small smile from her lips. They travel down the long hallway until it meets the landing at the top of the stairs, and then they descend back down to the first floor.

Seraphine's eyes are on the large glass chandelier above the stairs, and she's reminded of the castle from Beauty and the Beast.

"Damien's made his famous beef stroganoff, some lemon chicken, and even threw in a frozen pizza if you didn't like either of those. I swear, he likes you more than he likes us--he's never made me a frozen pizza," Dr. Michaels murmurs the last part, but it still makes Seraphine chuckle.

"That all sounds delicious," she muses, and he smiles down at her as they reach the bottom of the stairs and he pulls her towards the kitchen.