Freya walked briskly across the campus. Anyone who knew her would say that this was odd. While occasionally late, Freya was always one to enjoy the world around her. Today was different. The flap on her satchel bounced with each step, another sign of unrest. Passers-by didn't notice anything out of order, for they didn't know Freya. They saw another student late for class or a meeting. Well, Freya was late for a meeting. It's why she was in such a rush. It was 14 minutes until the lecture started. She was meant to be there 15 minutes early to catch up with Beatrice. Under normal circumstances this would have been no problem for Freya, but Beatrice had asked her to be there 15 minutes early. Freya should be there 15 minutes early. Any other morning she could've been, but her... explorations this morning massively delayed her. The contents of which Freya was still running through her mind like a movie at 10 times speed. Flashes of the release, the energy... the emotion. Freya shuddered. Time had disappeared this morning. Freya knew exactly why, and how. She wished the memories were repulsive, repugnant; they were far from it. An ache still lingered. Freya arrived at the lecture hall. The red doors stood tall. Even with the small windows in them Freya couldn't see where she and Beatrice had sat the week before. "The hall did look rather empty though, maybe Beatrice wasn't here yet?"

With one final breath Freya pushed the door open. The metal bar used to unlock the door felt especially cold under Freya's fingers. The clang of the bar rung through the auditorium. Freya slowly looked around. Even without seeing her, Freya knew that Beatrice would be there as much as she wished otherwise. Part of her didn't want to find her, to just ignore her, maybe to just leave again. She couldn't. Her eyes fell on Beatrice, if only for a moment before darting away to the far side of the room yet again. It was enough to know Beatrice's stare was on her. Freya could feel the gaze now but she stood tall. Part of her wanted to take a seat as far away on the other side of the room as possible, but then they wouldn't be able to catch up. Freya had arrived early so they could catch up after all. 

If a horde of flies were in front of Freya, that may have explained her erratic eye movements better than any excuse she could think up, but alas the room was empty except for Freya and Beatrice. The distance between them was closing. Quickly. Freya's palms began to sweat as she turned into the aisle. She couldn't do anything but look at Beatrice now. Beatrice's hair was tied back today. It was sleek black until the a hair ribbon obfuscated the transition into purple. Her lips were once again painted black. She wore a navy blue dress with a revealing chest. Freya gulped. This wasn't going to be easy. Then the fragrance came. Rose and Sandalwood. It started soft, slow, barely perceptible; a slight tickle at the nose hairs. A few steps later it was all Freya could think about. "God it's so pretty." Her knees buckled ever so slightly. She needed to drink whatever elixir could produce such an aroma. "No. Stay strong. Resist. You can resist her Freya." In some vain attempt at resistance Freya sat leaving a gap between her and Beatrice. Her touch would be too much. She knew that.

Beatrice smirked. Her eyes flickered with recognition of what Freya was doing, but she showed no other signs of caring. No anger, no dismissal, nothing. "You're late." Each word spoken with a curtness that invited some form of explanation.

For a moment Freya thought about telling the truth, but settled on saying "Sorry, I slept in." Her hands fidgeted in her lap with uncertainty of whether Beatrice would see through her or not. She had to keep trying though. She had to fight.

“That's alright. I hope it was a restful sleep. How was your first week of classes?” There it was. The melodic rhythm. There was no tell to whether Beatrice had picked up on the lie or not. 

“Good. We didn’t do much,” Freya said quickly. Her eyes darted around the room. An unwillingness to look Beatrice in the eyes was good it meant she wasn’t done for.

“You seem nervous is something the matter?” Beatrice whispered with such care and affection. She leant forward with her hand stretching towards Freya’s. Her upturned wrist glistened slightly with specks of perfume and a golden bangle hung loosely on her wrist.

Freya instinctively jumped backwards, but also drew a deep breath. The perfume was near overpowering. Her head was spinning as the rose and sandalwood spread like a gas through every part of her mind. Slowly it receded, as Beatrice’s hand pulled back. Freya sighed with relief. 

“No. Everything is perfectly fine. Thank you.” Freya looked into her eyes and smiled. “Fuck. Her eyes are so pretty.” She looked away again frustrated at the mistake. Time was moving like a snail. Still no one else had entered the room. There was nothing to distract herself with. The game carried on.

“If you say so. You seem awfully tense though Freya. Like you could really use a relax.” 

The words flowed like honey. “Yea, a relax sounded good. Shit. No. No it didn’t.” Freya found her eyes finding Beatrice’s more often.

“If you have anything you want to get off your chest, I promise I won’t judge you. I’m here to help.”

“I-I-I,” Freya stammered. “God. It was so difficult. Should I just be honest?” Freya blinked.

“Yes. I should always be honest with Bea,” Freya whispered as Beatrice stopped stroking her arm. 

“Good girl Freya,” Beatrice whispered. Her smile shone brightly.

“Thank you Bea,” Freya said as she sat upright taking her head off of Beatrice’s shoulder. “A good girl is always honest. It made sense, you should always be honest with friends.” Freya looked around at the auditorium. It was full. She hadn’t even noticed anyone else enter. The professor began to talk. Freya pulled out her laptop and began taking notes for herself and Beatrice. “It’s what a friend does for the other.”

The lecture flew by. It was strange, Freya was never bad in lectures, but she often zoned out at one point or another, but today she was locked in. Only the professors words mattered (and anything Beatrice said of course). Notes were easy and it was great that Beatrice would benefit too, but it ended all too quickly. Just as soon as they had arrived they had to go again; and Freya had class to get to. She hugged Beatrice goodbye pressing her face into the crook of her neck inhaling her sweet perfume as deeply as she could when Beatrice whispered to her.

“I have my class later. You should see if someone wants to transfer then we can spend all day together.”

While that did sound nice, Freya loved just getting her work over and done with. She should look into it for Beatrice though. Maybe next semester they could work out their timetables together. 

“Bye Bea, see you next week!” Freya said excitedly with a wave and a smile while looking deep into Beatrice’s eyes. She skipped away to class; her mind feeling empty and ready to learn (from Beatrice, but she didn’t know that yet).

Freya arrived at class. She found the same table she was at with the same boring people. I mean I can’t blame them, they obviously aren’t Beatrice. The tutor also seemed really flat. This Mr Jenson. Beatrice had said she had a really good tutor. Freya kicked her feet under the table, her mind anywhere but class. By anywhere, well, it was focused on beautiful Beatrice and how amazing she was. She was so amazing after all. By the end of class all Freya had managed to write down was the date and title of the subject for the week “constellation,” “Ungh. I’ll need to revise. Beatrice was right. I should transfer classes.”

That was the first thing Freya did when she got back to her apartment. It was a quick walk home. Not as fast as this morning, but faster than Freya's more normal strolls. Freya just really wanted to transfer before she forgot. Thankfully there was someone looking to transfer out of Beatrice’s class! Freya said she’d accept and now they just had to wait for the coordinator which would likely only take a couple of days. Freya texted Beatrice, “Hey Bea. Transferred, we can spend all of next Monday together. x”

Freya threw her phone onto her bed giddy with excitement. She couldn’t wait for next week! But something did tickle the back of her mind. “When did she get Bea’s phone number? It didn’t matter. She and Bea were friends it made sense to have her number.” Looking around, the sticky notes on the wall stuck out like a sore thumb. Freya giggled. One by one she ripped them off of the wall. She read each word as she went: 
Perfume, Bea’s perfume was exquisite. Fingers, Bea’s fingers were enchanting. Beauty, Bea’s beauty was enrapturing. Speech, Bea’s words were angel song to be listened to. 

Rhythm, Obey Bea’s Rhythm. 
Careful, no need to be careful with Bea. 
Fight, don’t fight Bea.
Resist, can’t resist Bea.
Think, Bea thinks for me.
Combat, won’t combat Bea.
Deny, can’t deny Bea.
Free, Free to obey Bea.

A wide smile crossed Freya’s face as the bin lid closed on the notes. They were so silly, just like her. Thankfully she had Bea to tell her what to do. “But I’ve never needed anyone to tell me what to do before?” That didn’t matter though. Freya felt better now. Happier. Freer. She smiled complacently. “Yeah,” she murmured to herself as a wave of bliss rolled across her body like a wave across the ocean.

The next few days were much of the same. Nagging thoughts that something was off followed by reinforcements that everything was normal. When Freya was feeling extra negative she texted Bea who would respond with an angelic voice message that never failed to lift the mood. Freya was so lucky to have her. It wasn’t like she was changing either. She could still go outside and enjoy campus life. She was still attending classes and doing well. Talking with Beatrice was just talking with a new friend. Freya had nothing to worry about. “Except my thoughts are always on her. I’m barely enjoying the campus. Only waiting till I can see Bea again. God I want to see her. No. No.” Freya gripped at her head. Nails dug into her scalp as she pushed trying to move a puzzle piece she couldn’t find back into place. Freya knew there was something missing. Something was happening. Something to do with beautiful Bea. The frustration though only served one purpose. Enhancing her arousal. As much as Freya wished to deny it, pretended it didn’t exist, the more she thought about Bea, the more aroused she became. 

Saturday was where everything came to a head. It wasn’t Freya's first bout of turmoil; and it wasn’t the first to turn into a masturbation session either. Freya had embraced the pleasure even if an immense shadow of shame was left hanging behind her afterwards. During the moment, that shame was non-existent. Barely a speck some distance in the background. Only carnal desire fuelling each and every movement. There were times Freya contemplated recording herself for Bea. No that was too much. The tickle of the idea was more than enough though. Freya wasn’t just touching herself now, she was fucking herself with her fingers, she rode them. Her hips bucked on them. Countless puddles had formed beneath her as ecstasy rampaged in her mind. Moaned expletives filled the room, all for Bea. It’s not that Freya had never partaken in such activities previously, merely they weren’t so boisterous and passionate. The entire body experiencing wave after wave was new… and addicting. Yet another truth Freya wanted to disappear from. 

Freya finished. Her arms and legs shaking from the exertion. Slowly the self-reprimanding thoughts began to form as the high wore off. “I am changing.” That was at least true. For the better or worse Freya could not yet discern, but any change was always disconcerting and a little scary… especially when brought about for reasons not entirely of one’s own volition. Freya cleaned up and curled into bed. Her knees were up against her chest as a tear rolled down her cheek. She’d have to face Bea again on Monday. For the whole day. It had been 25 minutes maximum so far and she already felt this way. Monday would be at least 4 hours between classes. Freya shuddered; daring not to imagine potential outcomes finding an unknown oblivion a more recompense belief to hold. Freya flicked on the lamp beside her grabbing a pencil and notepad.

“To my future me, I’m not sure if you’ll ever read this, or when. Whatever occurs Monday, I’m sorry I couldn’t fight longer. You deserved more. Until we meet again.”

Freya pushed the tear-stained notepad under her bed to the far wall. The only reason she ever wanted to find it again was because she remembered to look for it. Anything else and it would be meaningless. Time marched ever on though, and in just two sleeps Freya knew, everything would change.