Helena stared at the bottle. For a moment, she couldn't speak. Couldn't think. Her pounding heartbeat filled her head, wild drums of danger. They drowned all other thought out.
Fuck. Oh, fuck.
"D-Diane." She barely recognized her own voice. It sounded so small and slurred, so uneven, so... weak. "I--the drink--"
But Diane was already refilling her glass, smiling at her. "What about it?"
"Th-The alcohol content... I thought you said it was, um, low."
"I never said that."
Helena's heart stumbled. "What?"
"I never said it was low." Diane took Helena's hand and guided it to grip the glass. She frowned down at her. "Are you feeling okay, sweetie?"
"Y-Yes!" Helena squirmed. "I..." She found herself lifting the glass to her lips, and couldn't tell if she was doing it of her own accord or if Diane's hand was... steering her. "You said it was l-low, and I said I have an... an addiction... or, I mean, a h-history of..."
"You said you could handle it." Diane's voice was as smooth and silky-sweet as the drink trickling onto Helena's tongue. "I trusted you. You're an adult, aren't you? Can't you make your own choices?"
"N-No, I--I mean, yes, and I did say that, but--" Helena took a deep breath, but couldn't help how it shuddered and quaked, like every beat of her heart sent tremors through her lungs. "You told me it was low alcohol content. I re--
remember
that."
"Are you sure?"
There it was. That question again, delivered with such sweet, gentle innocence. Helena stared at Diane, wondering when Diane had swept her hair back, when Diane's lips had ever been so luscious, glistening wine-red in the moody, romantic lighting. One perfect eyebrow arched.
"I--" Helena's voice faltered. She stared into Diane's eyes, such a beautiful, piercing blue. No. She couldn't feel this way. She
didn't
. Diane was a liar, a fraud, a--a manipulative
bitch
. "I think so--?"
Weakness dripped from her words like water from a leaky pipe. Weakness. Uncertainty. Doubt. She swallowed as Diane's smile emerged. It came out slowly, like a predator from its hiding place. Her eyes glittered, spider's eyes. Hungry. Certain. All the confidence Helena had drunk away Diane had drunk in, had devoured from her.
"You
think
so." Diane's voice was a crisp, delicate purr. "Helena, I distinctly remember telling you it was strong. I asked you if it was okay, didn't I? Didn't you tell me you could handle it? Because if you did, it's not fair to put the responsibility on me."
"I--" Helena took a sip for courage, then realized what she'd done and tried to will herself to lower the glass. It didn't leave her lips. Diane's hand was on hers, and it felt like she was holding it in place, but--but everything felt numb and tingly, and she couldn't bring her eyes to leave Diane's smile to check, because what if that smile disappeared again? What if her objections made Diane angry? A windstorm swirled in her stomach at the thought. "Yes, you--I did say that, but--"
"Helena. You're drunk." Diane's voice was gentle, but firm, a warning threading between the words. "I'm not sure if you understand how manipulative you're coming across right now."
"W-What?"
Diane leaned in slightly. "You're trying to tell me my own memory is wrong," she said softly, cupping Helena's cheek, and
oh,
Helena couldn't help leaning into such a soft touch. "Do you understand how scary that is for me?"
Helena froze. She tried to form words of argument, but none came out. No. That was... Diane was trying to...
"Drink."
"I..." Her lips parted. The glass tipped. Was it her hand tipping it?
Diane pressed in close. She felt nice. Soft. Warm. "Please apologize to me, Helena."
Helena blinked at her professor, letting her gaze drift over those thick, dark lashes, those confident blue eyes.
Diane should have been the one apologizing to
her.
But as she gazed at Helena with that dark, deadly authority, Helena felt as if she was being... squeezed.
She didn't have a crush on Diane. She couldn't. It was the alcohol. It was the closeness.
Diane was so close.
Had
she been... gaslighting Diane? To cover for her own mistake?
She'd done worse when she was an alcoholic. She'd written about that. In her essays for the class. Which Diane had read.
She'd told Diane so much about herself. Something about that felt sharp and serrated, like spilling her secrets into a spiderweb of barbed wire.
But...
She let herself wriggle a little closer, praying Diane wouldn't notice.
It also meant Diane already knew the worst of her. And she was still giving her the chance to...
"I'm sorry," she whimpered.
Diane's smile glowed like a campfire. Her arm wrapped around Helena, and Helena shivered at the touch, the silken restraint. There was nothing sharp or barbed about these threads encircling her right now. They only became sharp when she fought.
"It's okay, kitten," she cooed in Helena's ear.
"I forgive you."
Helena barely held in a moan of relief--or of pleasure, maybe, at how Diane's voice poured into her even sweeter than liqueur.
Diane's finger stroked along Helena's neck, tracing her throat. "But I need you to understand, Helena, that this is the adult world. And that means taking responsibility." Her voice dropped to a smoking purr. "If you can't learn to take responsibility, your responsibility will be taken from you."
"I-I know that," Helena said. Her voice sounded like a whine. Pathetic. Petulant.
"Good girl." Fingers laced with hers, helping her hold the glass up. "There's a good girl. Just let me take the weight for now. You're safe here. You can't hurt anyone here."
Helena's eyelids fluttered low.
"And you'll be staying here for tonight."
Helena's eyes opened wide. "But--but I--"
"Drink."
The glass tipped. Helena tried not to part her lips, or told herself she did, but it was like a dream--the sort of dream where you convinced yourself you'd gotten out of bed until you drifted back to consciousness and realized you hadn't moved.
In this case, she only realized her lips had parted when she tasted the addictive chocolatey nectar on her tongue.
"Wait," she gurgled, "no, I--"
"You're staying here tonight," Diane said sweetly over her. "Unless you want to walk home."
"B-But--"
"Drink."
The glass tipped. Helena tasted the sweetness and shuddered. She couldn't will herself not to swallow. Everything was so blurry. Fuzzed. She could barely manage her own words, but Diane's still came crystal-clear.
"Good girl. Now, stop being silly." Diane let out a beleaguered sigh. "I mean, a sexy thing like you wandering alone on campus, drunk and stupid, at a quarter to midnight? Are you that self-destructive?"
"I..."
"You're staying here tonight." Diane's voice sharpened into a knife on the next word.
"Understood?"
Helena quivered. She licked her lips.
"O-Okay," she heard herself whisper.
"Good girl." It felt like Diane's lips brushed her earlobe in the softest, briefest of kisses. It might have been her imagination. "Honestly. I can't believe the trouble I have to go through just to keep you safe from yourself."
Helena's cheeks burned. "I... I wasn't..."
"Shh." Diane sighed, her breath hot against Helena's cheek. "I forgive you, okay? Don't worry about it."
"B-But..."
"Now, be a sweet girl and help me message your friend. You don't want to worry her, do you?"
Helena opened her mouth. Liqueur streamed over her tongue to drown her objections. Her words came out garbled, incoherent.
"Of course you don't." Diane's hand brushed down over Helena's shoulder, along the collar of her button-up. "What's your phone password, by the way?"
"I--"
"No, it's a number code. Four digits." Diane's voice arched slightly. "Or did you forget it, silly girl? Or did you steal this phone?"
Helena's whole body went hot. "I--I didn't!" The world spun and twirled as she turned to face Diane.
And realized this put Diane's lips mere feathers from her own.
"Then what is it?" Diane's smile widened in amusement. Helena wondered how red her cheeks were. Were they the same shade as Diane's plump, sensuous lips?
So close. So fucking close. Oh,
fuck,
Diane was so...
beautiful
... no,
no,
she had to stop thinking like that!
"Well?" Diane prompted, jolting Helena from her mortifying thoughts.
"It's--it's four, two--" Helena realized with a lurch what she was doing, and she hesitated. But stopping midway would make it obvious she'd done it by accident, obvious she'd zoned out. Just another dumb move from a drunk, stupid student. She refused to give Helena the satisfaction, and injected as much annoyance as she could into her voice for the last two. "Eight. One. Happy now?"
But regret and shame filled her as Diane's eyes gleamed in satisfaction. Diane pulled away, swiping her finger across Helena's phone screen. "Good girl."
"Stop." Helena's cheeks burned. "Stop... saying that."
"What? Why?" Diane leaned in, nuzzling Helena's shoulder. "You're being so good for me!"
"S-Stop it!" Helena bit her lip at the tremble to her voice.
Over Diane's shoulder, she caught a glimpse of the email Diane was writing to her roommate.
Tammi, had an emergency. May be gone for a while. Will explain when I get back. Can u let ppl know?
A pleading emoji followed the request.
Helena couldn't help but feel like it was odd that no specific time of return was specified.
Before she could ask, though, Diane sent the message and tossed the phone onto the couch. "There. That should take care of it for now."
Helena swallowed. Diane hadn't just given her an excuse to be gone--she'd all-but guaranteed that Helena wouldn't be
able
to go back tonight without giving some sort of explanation. Not without explaining... this.
Not without explaining things like Diane's leg hooking over her thighs.
"Drink."
"N-No." Helena pulled away from the glass, but there was nowhere to escape to. Diane had her cornered on the couch, pinned, and suddenly a new kind of fear was filling her.
She could fight Diane off if she needed to... right?
