Content Warning: This chapter contains a broken glass injury and some brief pain punishment involving it. This is where things get dark.
~~~
This couldn't have gone any worse.
"Stop fidgeting, Helena," the soft voice murmured in her ear.
"S-Sorry," Helena said reflexively.
Helena had come here to confront Professor Diane Wood. To tell her she'd figured out what a fraud she was and was going to report her. Now, though, she wasn't sure why she'd felt the need. Why had she come to Diane first? That question clung to her, sticky and wet like lipstick.
And she wasn't sure she'd like the answer.
Diane's hands were soft, her fingers moving delicately as they cleaned Helena's self-inflicted injury. Her breath was warm against Helena's cheek. Her body was warm, too. And soft. Diane smelled nice,
felt
nice, and the compulsion to lean in a bit felt...
"Sweetie, I said to quit fidgeting." Diane giggled. "Not to go stiff as a board.
Relax."
"I-I--"
"Drink."
The glass was in Helena's hands. Diane had put it there. It glimmered, pretty and inviting, like a precious jewel. Helena hesitated. She already felt... dizzy. Diane had said the drink was low alcohol, but... "I-I, um..." She forced her gaze away from the glass, towards Diane.
This was a mistake.
Diane's red hair glimmered like pouring wine in the dusky light. Her piercing blue eyes were focused intently on the hand she held in both of hers. "Honestly, Helena, I had no idea you were this danger-prone."
Helena's face heated up. "I--I--"
Diane smiled at her. "Shh. It's going to hurt more if you squirm." With a pair of tweezers, she plucked out a little shard, and Helena winced. "You've done enough damage to yourself for one day. Let me handle this."
"B-But I--damn it, Diane, I don't care about the hand!" Helena mustered a defiant glare. "I'm leaving. I can deal with this on my own.
After
I talk to the dean."
"She'll be asleep this time of night," Diane murmured. She looked completely unconcerned. "And you'll get an infection if you don't get this bandaged. Are you planning to drive to her home and smear blood over her bedroom window?"
"I--!"
"You didn't think any of this through." Diane stroked Helena's arm gently. "Not one of your strengths, is it?"
"But--!"
"Shh. Just let me take care of you." Diane plucked away another shard. Helena stayed still this time and barely felt it. "Good girl." Diane smiled up at Helena, eyes sparkling. "I seem to be better at it than you are."
Helena's breath caught. "I--you--" She wanted to argue. She wanted so badly to argue.
"Not to mention, drunk driving?" Diane shook her head with a
tsk
. "No, no, no. I won't allow that. I'm not letting anything happen to my smartest student."
"Buh... but...
Diane's eyes half-narrowed. Her smile faded. "And if you insist on disappointing me by acting like my
stupidest
, I'll just have to take over making the decisions for a while."
Helena felt the insecurity flooding in. She whimpered.
Diane's tweezers gripped another shard. This one was in deeper. It hurt. "Understood?"
Helena bit her lip, trying to hold in a soft cry of pain.
"Understood?" Diane's gaze was cold. That nurturing softness was gone.
"F-Fine," Helena managed, "just--"
The shard slipped out out. So did Helena's cry, pathetic and weak.
Instantly, Diane's smile was back, and the pretty blue eyes were wide with concern. "Oh, you poor thing." Soft, soothing coos spilled from her lips as she reached up to stroke Helena's hair. "Does it hurt?"
Helena felt dizzy from whiplash. She nodded, drunk, confused, vulnerable, staring at her bloody hand.
"Don't look at it."
Helena couldn't look away. Her breathing started to quicken.
Diane took her chin roughly and tilted it up. "Don't look at it. Look at me."
So instead, Helena stared into Diane's eyes.
Diane's gaze was hypnotic. Her eyes were warm, inviting summer pools, promising sanctuary and comfort if only she sank into them. Her breathing slowed. "I... I, um..."
The back off Diane's hand stroked Helena's cheek, and Helena shivered at the tenderness of the touch. "Good girl," she whispered. "Just relax. You're safe. Do you understand why I'm worried about you going on your own?"
Helena trembled. She wanted Diane to keep touching her like this. She didn't want Diane to turn cold again.
She gave a meek nod.
"Gooood,"
the professor cooed. Still holding Helena's chin, she turned Helena to face the left. "Don't look at me. If it helps, look at your drink. We're almost done."
The drink glittered in the light like the glass was full of garnets. Helena's heart pounded. Her lips felt dry.
She felt Diane release her, saw out of the corner of her eye Diane returning to work on her injury.
I shouldn't.
But she'd already had some. And she needed the distraction.
She relented, picking up the glass and taking a slow sip of sweet, comforting, toxic familiarity. Her eyes closed. She could have sworn she heard Diane laughing.
"That's it. Just let me take care of you." Diane's voice poured around her like sweet pink mist. "Enjoy your drink. I'm almost done."
She took another gulp as another tiny shard of glass hit the plate.
Her head felt hot. Swirly. Heavy. With her eyes closed, it felt so easy to just rest against Diane's shoulder. To let herself sink into that cozy warmth. To tip her glass back and drink.
The pain was less now. Diane was being gentle. Diane was so gentle with her.
Was she so bad, really?
Helena's eyes fluttered. Wait. "W-Wait."
The tweezers dug in roughly. Helena gasped and whimpered with pain, burying her face in Diane's shoulder. "Hm? What is it, sweetie?"
"N-Nothing," Helena cried softly. She trembled against Diane's warm, soft body.
"Good girl." The tweezers, suddenly gentle again, pulled out one final shard, and relief swept through Helena's body. A hand ran through Helena's hair, tender, comforting. "That's the very last one, my sweet girl. You've done
so well."
Good girl.
You've done so well.
To Helena's panicky, impressionable mind, these words were even sweeter ambrosia than the alcohol. She squirmed. "A-All done?" she managed, flushing at how weak she sounded. How... vulnerable.
"All done." As Helena's eyes opened, she saw Diane smiling radiantly down at her. "Now I just have to disinfect and bandage the cuts."
"O-Oh." Helena bit her lip. "I, um, I can probably handle th--"
"Stay still." Diane's grip on her wrist tightened. Her voice was cool. "Relax. It's easier to let me do it for you."
"But I--"
"Helena." Diane's voice was firm. Helena looked up to see that Diane's smile was gone. "You're being irrational. It makes no sense for you to do this on your own."
Helena's breath caught. She stared up into those beautiful blue eyes, and part of her desperately missed the warmth, felt like she would say anything to bring it back. "I-I just... I..."
Diane's fingertips brushed down her scalp and delicately over the nape of her neck, a ghost of the tenderness from before. "Be good for me, okay?"
Helena shivered. "O-Okay. Um, sorry."
The warmth flowed back in an instant. Diane's arm wrapped around her and pulled her close... then snaked up to take Helena's hand holding the drink. "It's completely fine," she cooed. "You're emotional, you poor thing. And no wonder, with everything you've put yourself through tonight. Just relax. I won't let anything happen to you."
