Helena watched Diane switch off the lights as they entered the bathroom. She tried to focus on the motion, to center her attention on the delicate flick of Diane’s fingers. Anything to distract from how warm Diane’s body felt against hers.

It became harder to focus on anything else as Diane turned and shut the door behind them, locking them in darkness.

There was still a nightlight by the sink, reflecting off of the mirror to bounce around the room. But for a moment, Diane was just a silhouette. A soft, warm silhouette holding Helena to keep her standing.

Helena’s mind was racing. She wasn’t sure with what. Everything in her head was a muddled mess. Her physical sensations were all she felt she could trust: She felt a little queasy, she had a bit of a headache, her limbs felt sore and asleep from all the time spent in bed, and…

… and the blindingly bright lights from the hallway had been hurting her eyes. Now her eyes didn’t hurt anymore.

So maybe the lights being out right now was good. Even though the idea of being alone in the dark in a rather cramped room with her professor—her soon-to-be ex-professor, her mind reminded her—had her world spinning for a different reason.

She pulled away from Diane’s grasp.

She’d felt cold a moment ago, too. Her bedroom—Diane’s spare bedroom—was freezing, and it had only been on entering the hallway that she’d realized it was just the bedroom that was like that. Or it was the fever swinging her between extremes.

She definitely felt very, very hot right now.

Helena swallowed. Her physical sensations were all she could trust, but between the possible hangover, her probable fever, and… everything about Diane, figuring out what to do with all the information was overwhelming.

But… she did feel gross. Getting cleaned was a good first step. Right?

Dimly, she realized she must have gotten up at some point during the night to use the facilities. She didn’t remember doing so. She just had foggy recollections of entering this room before, or… being helped into the room, or something. Not much beyond that. But she definitely hadn’t showered in a long time.

“Helena?” Helena jumped, having completely lost track of herself. She turned to Diane, very glad her professor couldn’t see her blushing in the darkness. “Do you think you can manage this part on your own?”

The words stung, even though by this point Helena knew Diane didn’t mean anything cruel by them. She smiled sheepishly. “Well, I think I should manage, yeah. I mean, I’ve taken a shower be—”

“A yes or no is okay, Helena.”

Something in Helena’s throat felt hot. She nodded, smile vanishing. “Yes, Diane.”

In the darkness, she thought she could see Diane smiling. Probably out of sympathy, or pity. “You’re really out of it, huh?”

“What?” Helena blinked. “I-I mean, I feel…” She was a little out of it, but had anything she’d said really given that away? She was feeling better than she had in bed, at least. “... I mean. Maybe a bit, but—”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Diane laughed, raising her hands as if to placate Helena. “It’s kind of adorable seeing you get all rambly.”

Helena’s words fully caught at the top of her throat. She shut her mouth to keep from blurting out anything stupid. Was she being rambly? Was it really appropriate of Diane to… was Helena making Diane think it was appropriate to act this way towards her?

She decided she’d think about it later. A nice shower would wake her up a little. Maybe a cold one, she thought privately.

She turned to hide her reaction and focused on walking evenly towards the shower. It felt easier to do it now. She’d just had a nice, full meal thanks to Diane as of a couple minutes ago, and being out of bed, out of that room, felt… good. Refreshing. Like that room was a dreamspace, and Helena was finally waking up.

She parted the curtains to the shower and shopped short in confusion.

The bath was full.

Oh, right. Helena grimaced. Diane had said she’d drawn a bath. How was Helena going to tell her that Helena wanted to shower? That she hadn’t taken a bath since grade school?

She heard Diane’s laughter behind her. “You’re not going to get in with your clothes on, are you?”

“No!” Helena flushed. “No, I’m—no, Diane. I just—”

Helena’s words cut off. The covert meaning of Diane’s question had just registered with her, and she turned to face her professor in bewilderment. “Wait, are you… are you saying I should…?”

“What?” Diane smiled sweetly. “It’s pitch-black in here, anyways.”

“It’s… not that dark.” Helena could see Diane fairly clearly, in fact.

Diane squinted. “You must have really good night vision. That’s remarkable.”

The compliment settled sweetly on Helena’s cheek, and she had to fight back a shy smile. Get it together, girl. For fuck’s sake. “B-Be that as it may, Professor Wood—”

“Diane, dear.”

“Professor Wood.” Helena forced firmness into her voice. She almost immediately regretted it at how Diane’s smile faltered. “I’d just… I’d just feel a little more comfortable not being watched. Or feeling watched.”

Awkwardly, in the privacy of her own head, Helena wasn’t sure she’d mind Diane getting a look at her. The idea made her heart flutter more than she would ever be able to admit. She wanted Diane to see her. Wanted Diane to notice her body, to admire her lovely curves, her toned physique, the way her waist slinked inward to accentuate her hips and chest…

Fuck, she wanted Diane to leer.

But Helena had to… had to be an adult about this. Had to put up some boundaries. No more dreamland. And so as bitter as it was, she forced herself not to immediately retract what she’d said, no matter how unbearable Diane’s visible disappointment with her felt.

The worst part was that Diane didn’t argue. She just shrugged, appearing ambivalent. “Okay, Helena. I can turn around if that would help? It doesn’t make any difference to me. I really can’t see you.”

The idea that Diane couldn’t see her felt almost unbelievable. But Diane was closer to the nightlight, Helena supposed. She nodded curtly. “That’s f-fine. I appreciate it. Thank you, Diane.”

Diane turned around without a reply.

Helena hated how weirdly guilty she felt as she started pulling off her clothes. She’d come so close to just not saying anything, too. It was weird how hard standing up to Diane still felt, even after everything.

But it was also a relief that she still could. It helped remind her that she wasn’t some kind of invalid, wasn’t some pathetic, willing prisoner.

Her shirt reeked of her own sweat as she unpeeled it from her chest. Her bra was in even worse state. She sighed in soft relief as her breasts spilled out, finally freed from the hot, sticky confines of clothes she’d been wearing for what felt like days.

Thinking she heard a sound, her head snapped back to peek over her shoulder. Diane was still resolutely facing the door. Helena could see her calm smile reflected in the flickering mirror.

Helena was very glad Diane couldn’t see her red face. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t care! You’re the one who can’t stop thinking about it!

She hurriedly finished undressing and set her clothes on the counter, then went over to the tub. She stared down into the glittering depths, remembering her objections. “Oh. Um, I actually…”

“What’s that, Helena?” Diane’s voice was muted from facing away from her.

Helena hesitated. “... nothing.” She lifted a leg hesitantly. So what if she didn’t like baths. Diane had already prepared this one for her, and she didn’t want to wait for it to drain, and it was only going to get more lukewarm the more time they wasted.

And she… was starting to feel a little dizzy again. A lot dizzy, actually. Maybe lying down would be good.

She lowered her foot into the water.

The water was practically scalding.

Helena recoiled with a hoarse cry, pain electrocuting her numbness to searing pale light. She stumbled back, flailing for balance.

Luckily Diane was there to catch her.

“Helena! Are—are you alright?” It was pretty weird how Diane’s distressed voice sounded a lot like she was trying not to laugh.

“I—h-hot!” Helena’s stammering wasn’t from pain. It was from suddenly being naked and clutched in Diane’s arms. Feeling the woman’s chin resting atop her head, holding her close.

She felt heat of a different kind rolling through her like a storm front, and her mind was spinning like a weathervane.

A gentle chuckle came in answer. “Oh, is that all?”

Helena felt Diane bend over and watched her silhouette reach down, testing the water.

“It is a little warm.” A hand settled on Helena’s. “Just take it slow. Ease your way in.”

“I—I’d really prefer a shower,” Helena squeaked.

“Nonsense.” Diane’s other hand was on the small of Helena’s back. “Get in. I don’t trust you with a shower in your current state. You might fall.”

“B-But…” Helena’s voice sounded so weak and feeble to her ears. The dizziness was getting worse. She’d felt better just a few minutes ago; now she could barely keep track of what word she’d spoken last. “But I—”

“Just take it slow, Helena. If you jump right into hot water, obviously you’re going to jump right back out.” Diane’s voice was soft and sweet, but also unyielding, as she pushed Helena forward. Even though normally she knew she was stronger than Diane, Helena found herself helplessly complying. “But if we lower you in slowly… nice and slowly, now, so you have a chance to adjust…”

Helena held in a whimper of pain as Diane lowered her hand into the hot water. Slowly. Slowly.

“... we could bring the water to boiling,” Diane whispered, “and you wouldn’t even notice.”

“W-Wh…” The dizziness was getting worse. Worse than ever. The words were all spilling around Helena like cozy static, that brief clarity she’d felt was totally gone now, and Diane was so close…

“The key is just to take it nice and slow. To avoid letting you get too overwhelmed.” Helena shivered. She could swear Diane’s voice was close enough for those lips to brush skin, but that had to be her fevered imaginings… “Let you get used to it.”

Diane gently tapped the back of Helena’s thigh. Reluctantly, feeling like she had no other option, Helena lifted her leg and started climbing in again. “Give you time to acclimate, bit by bit.”

Helena swallowed. Diane’s voice was like a purr in her receptive ears as she slid into the hot water, this time forcing herself to hold in her cry of hurt. “Until it feels normal.”

Fingers ruffled through Helena’s hair. She had to restrain herself from rubbing up against the hand. She sank all the way in until just her head was poking out, and a sigh of complicated relief slid from her lips. Her head swam with molten heat. Her lashes fluttered.

“See?” More soft laughter. “Not so bad, right? Nice and refreshing now, isn’t it?”

It took Helena a moment to remember to respond. She was too focused on trying her best not to nod off.

When she did, her voice was small and unresisting.

“Yes, Diane.”

Silence.

For a moment, that was all.

Helena stared into the glimmering waters before her, taking deep breaths in and out. She tried not to think about the lingering pain, about Diane’s hand on her bare shoulder, or about how much of her had to be visible right now in the dim light. It was nice to take a hot bath. Diane hadn’t been wrong. And with her head swimming like this…

She rested her head against the back of the tub. It was a nice, big tub, too. With her size, there was plenty of room to make herself comfortable. To sink deep into the heat and just let the sudden heaviness of the world take her.

To let her eyelids droop lower, and lower.

Sweet imaginings dripped through her as she lay there, immersed up to her neck, miniature waves lightly lapping at her chin. She felt like molten metal in a crucible. Sinking. Dripping.

Her consciousness felt complicated, compromised, feebly negotiated between the flutterings of her lashes. Diane’s soft, cool hand on her bare shoulder, for example, faded in and out of her awareness. She knew consciously that it couldn’t still be there. But she still felt it.

Just dreams. She relaxed, letting her breathing slow. Just little half-dreams for her to fade in and out of as she sank deeper into the cozy heat. Obviously Diane had left the room. It’d be… silly for her to still be in there.

To still be standing so close to a naked Helena, shamelessly ogling her as she ran those fingers gently through Helena’s hair.

Those whispers were just dreams. Just more shameful dreams about her professor doing… bad things. Awful things. Wrong things.

Things she wanted so, so badly to stop wanting.

One hand stroking her hair. The other hand sliding down to grope a breast. Helena’s heart burned with shame at these fantasies, even as her back unconsciously arched, even as tiny sleepy gasps escaped her parted lips.

It was her fault. Her fault. She moaned softly as fingertips flicked her nipple. She needed to resist.

But she couldn’t.

She needed to stop having these dreams.

But she wouldn’t.

Pleasure eased into her as she relaxed… deeper.

Whimpers dripped from her slow and steady. She gyrated and nuzzled against the imaginary hands. The dream felt so good. So nice.

So sweet and soft and safe.

Deeper.

The hand was on her forehead now. She missed it petting her, but everything felt too goopy to think about for long.

She just liked Diane touching her.

Deeper.

She needed Diane touching her.

Deeper…

Helena’s heart fluttered.

She… she needed…

… air.

Helena’s eyes shot open. The realization cut through the fog like a gunshot. She stared up into murky twilight and let out a muted scream from beneath the water’s surface. Bubbles streamed around her.

She had somehow let herself sink underwater. She tried to push herself up, but her weakly-thrashing limbs felt like jello, like extensions of herself that weren’t hers.

Everything was a smear of panic and weakness. Terror paralyzed her, or something else, and all she could do was contort, was push at the foot of the tub with the tips of her toes, was try to push herself back towards the surface…

Hands gripped her shoulders. Arms wrapped around her.

Helena found herself bodily yanked past the surface. The cacophony returned to her in a shower of water and her own gasping breaths, her own heaving, coughing, retching. She had only been under the water’s surface for seconds, it felt like, but they had felt like some of the longest seconds of her life.

With every ounce of her fever-drugged strength, she clung to Diane like a life preserver.

“Helena,” Diane whispered. A hand ran through Helena’s hair, an achingly familiar touch. She leaned into it desperately. “Helena. Helena. What am I going to do with you?”

Helena just coughed and clung. Panic ruled her mind right now. Embarrassment was there, too, and agonizing shame. She had given Diane, the fraudulent professor she had meant to expose, yet another thing to hold over her. Stupid. She was so stupid. It all swarmed through her mind like a mass of scribbles.

But in there, too, was need. Need, scorching the rest of her like a hellburner, a burning ship sailing through wild waters towards the lighthouse that was her rescuer.

She clung because she was scared and needed comfort. Because she needed to be held. By anyone. Anyone.

She clung because she couldn’t bear to be pulled back to look in Diane’s eyes. She couldn’t bear the disappointment she knew she would find there. The contempt, the frustration at what a pathetic charity case Helena was turning out to be.

She clung because Diane was touching her. Because it felt so good when Diane touched her. So fuzzily, goopily good. She never wanted Diane to let go, never ever, she nuzzled Diane’s hand and clung as hard as her sleepy limbs would allow and would have begged for it if she could manage speech.

But most of all, she clung because Diane’s grip was loose.

If Helena let go, she would fall right back down under the water’s surface.

So she couldn’t let go.