The feeble apologies and excuses streaming from Helena’s mouth felt like speaking underwater. She barely had breath to speak them. It was all she could do to keep from sobbing as she clutched Diane as tightly as she could.

And through it all, Diane was stone-silent. Only that gentle hand on the back of Helena’s head offered any comfort, any reassurance. It wasn’t the touch of an equal.

At long last, when Helena’s babbling was swallowed by shame and she finally let the words fade away, her face buried into the crook of Diane’s neck, Diane spoke.

“Let’s get you dried off,” her fraudulent professor whispered in her ear. “And then let’s get you back to bed.”

Helena shivered. Diane’s voice had never been so soft, so tender. So patronizing. She clung to it anyways. It was some indication Diane didn’t hate her. Wasn’t angry at her. Wasn’t blaming her. “O-Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Y-Y—” The words stumbled over her tongue. “Yes, D-Diane.”

The hand gently stroked through Helena’s hand. “Good.”

Helena remained in Diane’s arms as Diane gently toweled her off. She stayed still as the blowdryer briefly filled the room with noise, only tipping her head to the side when Diane told her to so it could dry the other angles of her hair.

Then, humiliated, humbled beyond belief, Helena had no choice but to let Diane practically carry her back to the bedroom.

Something felt different between the two of them now. Suddenly arguing with Diane felt impossible. Suddenly all of Helena’s shame felt like a thunderstorm inside her, and all her burning indignations had turned into… matchsticks. Matchsticks left out in the rain.

She’d nearly drowned. Somehow she’d let her head slip underwater, and if Diane hadn’t heard, hadn’t come running…

Her mind filled in the blanks. She shivered and clutched Diane tighter as they approached the bed.

“Oh, Helena.” Diane’s voice was still so soft as she stroked Helena’s hair. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Helena felt so dizzy. So weak. She knew Diane could peel her away if she wanted to, but Diane let her cling. They were next to the bed now.

Just a little longer, Helena wanted to plead. Just a few more seconds.

“You’re safe,” Diane repeated softly. Her fingertips trailed down to Helena’s neck. “You’re with me. You’re safe now.”

Helena held in a whimper. She clung tighter.

It had been so long since anyone had held her like this.

The fingertips traced down Helena’s neck and between Helena’s shoulderblades, and dimly, wretchedly, Helena registered that she was still naked. “God, Helena. You can’t even take a bath on your own?”

“S-Sorry,” Helena whispered.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Helena.” Diane did pull Helena away now, and Helena found herself staring up into her gorgeous professor’s brilliant blue eyes. “Maybe I’ll just have to keep an eye on you next time~”

Helena blinked rapidly, trying to process the almost… flirty tone? No, that had to be her imagination. She wouldn’t—Diane couldn’t—

Those fingertips met the small of Helena’s back, and a squeak slipped past Helena’s lips. Her eyes widened as she stared at Diane, realizing how close Diane was to groping her ass—a tiny wretched temptation told her to move in closer—

“Oops. Sensitive, are we?” Diane chuckled, her smile almost sly, and pushed Helena gently down onto the bed. Helena complied unthinkingly. “Oh, Helena. What is it you want from me?”

Helena stared up at Diane with big, helpless eyes. She started trembling. Not just because the room was freezing-cold and she was wet and naked.

But also because it took everything in her to keep her mouth shut.

Diane looked her up and down, and Helena flushed. She snatched up the heavy weighted blankets and weakly lifted them to cover herself, holding in a thousand shameless pleas by sheer force of will. “S-Sorry,” she whispered. Stop apologizing. Stop. Stop.

Diane just frowned, reaching over and feeling her forehead. “Your fever obviously hasn’t broken yet,” she murmured. “Get some sleep, sweet girl.”

She turned to leave.

Helena felt anxiety spike within her. Despite the tenderness of Diane’s words, Helena still felt this… irrational anxiety that she was being punished, somehow, for not giving an honest answer.

She looked around at the nearly-pitch-black room, then at the door, the crack of light briefly widening as Diane swung it open. Her hand shot out. “I—”

But the words choked in her throat as Diane turned back to her.

“I’ll be back when you’re feeling better,” Diane said. Her expression and tone were both neutral. “When you’re feeling ready to join me downstairs.”

“I-I’m—” Helena’s head swam. She gripped the mattress for support as vertigo started to demand concessions. “Wait—”

The door clicked shut, and darkness took her. Diane was gone. Helena was alone in the black.

Helena lay down and wrapped herself in blankets, trying desperately to stop shivering. She wanted to try to take this chance to think, to process, to understand while the memories were still clear.

But nothing felt clear even now. In fact, the longer she lay under the covers, allowing that fever-drugged exhaustion to take hold once more, the foggier everything seemed to get.

Fatigue soon won out. Her eyelids fluttered lower and lower.

Helena’s nightmares were wet dreams.

* * *

Helena was surprised at how much better she felt in the morning. At least until she registered it was morning.

The blackout curtains were still closed, of course. Helena awoke in pitch blackness, just as she had for the last… the last thirty-odd hours she’d spent in Diane’s bed. That realization was what soured her relief.

She sat up, groaning, and took in a deep breath. At least the room didn’t feel so cold anymore.

Memories trickled back slowly at first. It was like watching distant birds slowly fly closer and closer until she could make out their colors. As memories of herself clinging to Diane came back to her, her cheeks started to heat up. Oh. Oh, god, last night…

The rest of the memories hit like a wall of water, like a river breaking down a feeble dam and crushing what was left of her. Her bold confrontation. The drunken flirting. Letting Diane take control. Being carried to bed. The curtains. The bath.

Burning shame took her. Her nails dug into the blankets. She squeezed her stinging eyes shut tight. The last thing she needed was for Diane to see her crying and think she was even more pathetic than she’d already been.

Idiot. You let her walk all over you. You let everything get so out of hand.

Why did you even come here to begin with?

Diane’s words, or a paraphrase of them, echoed back to her. It felt like so long ago now.

Most people would go to the authorities. Most would go to the police. But you… you came to me. You’re a bit of a teacher’s pet, aren’t you, sweetie?

She shivered. It… it hadn’t been exactly like that.

Were you hoping for a pat on the head~?

She whimpered. Her memories of that night were so foggy, they almost felt unreal. But everything that had come afterward—her latenight tantrum with the curtains, all the moments she’d nuzzled or clung or—kissed? Fuck, how much of that had been dreams?

And last night. Her breath caught. Being taken to the bath like an invalid, like a child. All her stupid awkward fussing over Diane ogling her. So obvious. So pathetic. And then nearly… nearly…

And needing Diane to save her.

She tried to push it all out of her mind. She tried so hard. It all squished around her efforts like trying to push playdough through too small a hole, massed around her again like a swarm of fluttering butterflies. Her whimpers and pleas for Diane to stay close. Her touching herself. Her accusing Diane of things again and again, only for Diane to always dismiss it, always shut it down, always have an explanation.

She’d acted like a paranoid freak. A child. Like a pervert openly sharing her worst fantasies. And Diane forgiving her every time.

It was so easy to shamespiral. It almost felt comforting. But…

… but still.

Helena squeezed her eyes shut. She half-expected to wake up again when they opened, for this to just be another dream. But no, this was real. She was fully awake.

And she needed to act like it.

It was almost unbearable to face it all, but hiding from it all was how she’d managed to spend a whole day and night in… in Diane’s bed. Guest bed.

Nothing had gone like it was supposed to. Far from confronting her enemy, she’d… she’d made herself dependent on her. She’d made her enemy a… friend? Caretaker?

And Diane had saved her life. No matter what happened next, Diane had her in the palm of her hand, and they both knew it.

But Helena had still promised herself she would do what was right.

She bit her lip. If only her memories were clearer. If only she could be absolutely sure.

But she was absolutely sure that she needed to leave. It was time to call a ride and get out of Diane’s hair. She’d figure all this out back at her apartment. She would.

She reached over and groped about in the dark for a moment before finding the phone on the nightstand.

At this familiar motion, the thought of the other object in the room flickered through her. The one she’d found.

Helena leaned over the side of the bed and reached beneath it. For a moment, she didn’t feel anything, and relief rushed through her—So it wasa dream. Then her fingers met cold glass.

The bottle was still down there.

Helena swallowed. She didn’t know why she’d kept it a secret. She’d been so tired, and it had just felt natural, and now revealing it would just show that she’d been tempted. And Diane would use that. She would see it as proof that Helena wasn’t fit to be left alone, she’d pressure Helena back into bed, she’d… she’d…

Fuck, a drink sounded so good right now.

She shook the dangerous thoughts off and focused on the phone. It felt funny in her hands somehow. Different. The weight, the shape…

She tapped the screen, and a password prompt appeared before a completely unfamiliar background.

Helena stared in bewilderment. What?

This wasn’t her phone.

She heard movement outside the room. It sounded like footsteps on the stairs.

Helena’s heart started to pound. Diane was coming back. A strange fluttering guilt took hold of her, and she almost felt compelled to hide the phone, or hide that she’d noticed. She beat it back.

The footsteps drew nearer. Helena’s breathing was shallow. What do I say? What do I do?

She heard a metallic click. Almost like a latch lifting.

The doorknob turned, and the door opened.

Dazzling light nearly blinded Helena. She shaded her eyes with a hand as she heard Diane say, “Oh, you’re awake. Good. I thought you were gonna sleep another day away!”

Helena flushed. She barely kept herself from instinctively apologizing. “Yeah, I’m… I’m feeling a lot better.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Diane walked over to loom over the bed. As Helena’s eyes adjusted, she found she still couldn’t quite meet Diane’s gaze. Diane reached down and laid a hand on Helena’s forehead. “Hm.”

Helena’s nails dug into her blankets again. Diane’s hand felt so cool and refreshing. Her hands were so soft, too. Just a touch had memories swirling around Helena again, and she fought to suppress them before they overtook her again.

“You do feel better,” Diane remarked, and Helena’s heart leaped with relief. She immediately felt embarrassed at being relieved—as if she knew Diane to tell her how she felt! But Diane had every reason to doubt her lately. “That bath must have done you some good.”

“I… yeah.” Helena wanted to bring up the phone, but she stopped herself. “I just wanted to say—I mean—thank you.” She swallowed. “For… catching me there.”

“What do you mean?”

Helena’s heart caught in her throat. “For—for—” Had it just been a dream? Was she totally crazy? “For—when you caught me dozing, and I—”

Diane was silent for a moment.

Oh, God. That was a dream. You sound crazy. You sound pathetic. You sound…

“Oh, that.” Diane smiled and patted Helena’s cheek. Such a familiar gesture, but Helena didn’t feel able to say no to it. “Don’t worry about it, sweetie! Not like I could just sit by and let you drown yourself.”

She laughed. Helena tried to laugh, too, even though she wasn’t sure what was funny.

“So you’re welcome.” Diane’s smile widened. “And you’re welcome for bathing you, too.”

Helena’s world burned. She couldn’t help herself—she ducked halfway under the covers to hide her red cheeks. She felt like a flustered schoolgirl. Which, to Professor Wood, she basically was. “Right. Yes! Sorry. I mean, thanks.”

“I forgive you, Helena.” Diane’s smile turned into a smirk. “I mean, you’re welcome~” Her tone was playful, toying.

Helena nodded weakly. She now felt totally off-balance. All her confidence had melted away. She wanted to curl up in these blankets and just shut up, but…

But the phone.

She steeled herself. It might still be some sort of mistake. But something about it felt cold and strange and sinister in her gut. She rallied all momentum in her and cleared her throat. “Prof—Diane. There’s something I need to speak to you about.”

The smile dimmed slightly. Only slightly. “Oh? Is that so?”

Helena took a deep breath, hating how it made her seem less confident, and then forced herself to meet Diane’s clear blue eyes.

Mistake. Big mistake. In an instant, all momentum was lost. In an instant, she felt small. Very, very smell. Meeting those eyes suddenly made her feel like a mouse staring down a serpent. She stared into Diane’s pretty eyes and mouthed an attempt at words.

“Hm?” Diane cocked her head. “I’m sorry, sweetie, what was that?” That smile seemed to turn a little sly.

The condescending sweetie only made Helena’s heart beat faster. She squirmed unthinkingly. Get it together. Get your shit together!

But she felt overwhelmed by that gaze. She hadn’t been this way around Diane before. Something had changed. Something had changed horribly over the last twenty-four hours, and she wasn’t sure she would ever get it back.

She was cowed by Diane.

“I—I—”

“Well?” Diane giggled. “You, you, what?”

“I’m trying to say!”

Her harsh words split through the shadowy bedroom, and a brief silence followed.

“Please don’t shout at me, Helena.”

“I’m sorry.” Helena shrank back at the coldness that had entered Diane’s voice. She hadn’t been shouting. She’d—she’d raised her voice a little, sure, but—had it been shouting? She was just… she was…

She hung her head. “I’m sorry, Diane. It—I’m just trying to think, and… and it’s hard with you, um…”

A long silence stretched between them.

“Helena.” A hand cupped Helena’s cheek. Gently, firmly, Helena found herself guided to lift her head again, to meet Diane’s cool, gentle smile. “I wasn’t interrupting. I was trying to prompt you. You get so scattered lately, is all, and I was kinda wondering if you were about to drift off again.”

Frustration gnawed at Helena’s guilt. “But I wasn’t.” She tried to keep her voice soft, now. Soft and weak. “I wasn’t drifting. I was… I was just…”

“Do you need to sleep a little longer, Helena?” Diane smiled. “Do I need to bring you a glass of warm milk?”

She moved to pull away.


“No,” Helena whispered. “Please.”

Diane stared at her and raised an eyebrow.

Helena realized she’d reached up to take Diane’s wrist.

She licked her lips. She didn’t feel any more able to let go than she felt able to tear her eyes away from Diane’s. “I—I’m okay. Please.” Her voice was a pathetic keen, almost a whine. “Please don’t send me back to bed, Diane.”

There was a long silence. There was so much Helena wanted to say to break it, but she didn’t dare.

Diane pulled her hand out of Helena’s, then reached in to feel her forehead again. Helena shivered and leaned in—to make herself easier to reach, she told herself.

“Well, you are a little sweaty, but… you don’t feel feverish.” Diane furrowed her brow. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

Helena went nearly limp with relief. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like Diane could… force her to stay in bed. She just didn’t want to have to fight. She licked her lips, then said, trying very hard to keep her voice mild and gentle, “Can I please ask a question about my phone?”

“I dunno. Can you?”

Helena stared at Diane, frustration starting to bubble above the shame and embarrassment. “May I—”

“I’m just kidding!” Diane giggled, tousling Helena’s hair. “Sorry, Helena. I’m listening.”

Helena definitely felt like she wasn’t being taken seriously. Her momentum was totally in shambles, but she bit her lip and pressed on. “That… is not my phone.” She pointed to the new phone. In the light, she could clearly see it was completely different—a different model, clearly well-worn judging by the cracks in its protective casing. She looked at it, then at Diane, something in her gut furling and unfurling with anxiety, with a desire to say more, to swear, to confront… “Where. Where is my phone, Diane?”

She wasn’t sure how she’d expected Diane to respond. Dismissiveness, maybe. Or maybe anger. Or maybe alarmed, off-balance, finally losing a bit of that endless confidence.

Diane just stared at her like she was an idiot. “... that is your phone, Helena.”

Helena stared back.

For a moment, she almost doubted herself. She almost wondered if she was mistaken. She almost fumbled to take the phone, to input her password, to…

No. No. She glared. “It i-is not my phone. I know what my phone looks like. It’s dark blue, with a—”

“With a university sticker. Yes, I know.” Diane raised an eyebrow. “That was your phone. And then a few nights, a couple nights ago, you managed to break it by slamming a glass of booze into its screen.”

Helena’s throat constricted. “Wh…”

“So I bought you a new one.” Diane reached down and took Helena’s hand, one fingertip running along the mostly-healed cut. “I thought I told you earlier. I guess you were pretty out of it.”

Helena blinked.

She’d… she’d almost forgotten. The cut from the broken glass felt like so long ago. The bandage was gone, and the old wound barely even stung when Diane touched it now.

But… “But I didn’t break my phone then,” she whispered. “I—I squeezed the glass, and it cut me.”

“You squeezed the glass?”

Helena’s cheeks heated up. She’d phrased that stupidly. “Yes! I squeezed—I mean, my fist was clenching, and—”

“So you clenched your fist and broke the glass.”

Helena blinked rapidly. “Y-Yes.”

“And so something else broke your phone.”

“Yes. I mean, no, I—” Helena’s cheeks were burning. Diane was just repeating what she was saying, but it sounded so stupid the way Diane said it. “Can—may I please see it?”

“You threw it away.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” Diane sighed. “You said it was broken, and I asked if you wanted me to keep it, and you… well, you weren’t very clear, but I assumed you wanted it thrown away. It was pretty badly broken.”

“I-I didn’t.”

Diane frowned at her.

To Helena’s surprise, she sat down on the bed next to Helena. Right next to her. Right up against her, sitting beside her, shoulder touching shoulder.

Diane turned, and suddenly the professor’s eyes were inches from her student’s.

“I know this has been… hard for you,” Diane said gently. She reached up and cupped Helena’s cheek. “You’ve been through a lot these last few days.”

Diane’s sweet cinnamony perfume hung thick around them both. She was wearing a sleeveless shirt, and her skin was right against Helena’s, cool and soft and smooth. Her lips looked full. Her eyes were cold and endless, lightning in twin bottles.

Helena realized she was trembling. She stared into Diane’s eyes, lower lip quivering. Was she about to cry? She felt so—so confused, and so angry, and so helpless, and so—

—so…

… so…

Her heartrate quickened. She didn’t dare speak. She didn’t dare move.

“I know you have… a lot of feelings right now.” A dazzling smile, only lightly dusted with sympathy. It felt so nice to have Diane smile like that. Diane’s fingertip kept running along the length of Helena’s mostly-healed cut. “I wish there was something I could do to help with them.”

Part of Helena wanted to say that Diane had already done so much.

Part of Helena wanted to say that Diane had already done too much.

Part of her wanted to say that she knew exactly what she needed Diane to do to fix everything.

She didn’t speak. She just leaned in slightly as Diane caressed her cheek, aching for Diane to lean in, to just kiss her already, to banish these problems, to let Helena ruin it all in exchange for just a few precious seconds of pathetic, idiotic comfort…

“Let’s go downstairs,” Diane purred, “and put some food in you.”

Helena’s breath caught. “R-Really?”

“Yes. You’ve earned it.” Diane’s smile sweetened, and before Helena could process the implications of that statement, she went on, “And I think it would do you some good to get some fresh air. I’ve let you sequester yourself up here for way too long.”

“I. I was sick.”

Helena was so hungry. Helena was starving. Helena needed food and she needed water and she needed air, she needed all of those things, but she also needed… needed…

“I know, Helena.” Diane rose to her feet. The hand on Helena’s cheek guided her to follow. “And now you’re well. So let’s go downstairs, okay?”

Helena felt like she was being spun around in darkness. She was standing, now, and still so, so achingly close to Diane, still close enough that she could just… just lean in… kiss the woman who had saved her life…

Diane turned away and walked out the door.

And Helena followed at her heel.