twenty three

                                    

                                          
Seraphine
The door creaks as Seraphine pushes it open, and she winces. Her eyes first go to the clock hanging on the wall next to the door, and her eyes widen at the time: it's almost 3. 
"Look who finally decided to show up," comes a menacing voice, and Seraphine jumps. Her gaze drops from the clock and she squints into the darkness, a gasp escaping her lips as she makes out just the outline of a figure leaning against the wall across from the kitchen. 
"D-Derek--" at the mention of his name, he scoffs and pushes off the wall. He stalks towards her until her back is pushing the door closed, and her breathing quickens as she realizes she's just blocked off her only exit. 
I deserve this. 
"Tell me, Seraphine, how do their cocks taste? How do they feel in that whore pussy of yours? Did you take all of them at once, you pathetic fucking slut?" His voice spits poison and actual spit at her, and she turns her head so her cheek presses into the wood of the door, squeezing her eyes shut. 
"Derek, I didn't--" A hand slams down on the door next to her face, and she jumps, shutting her mouth. 
"I don't fucking believe you, Seraphine. Nothing could make me believe you." Seraphine gapes at him, frozen in place.
"B-But, but, you're the one who sent me over there, Derek! It was your idea!" An anger she hadn't felt in a while surges to the surface, and she lifts a hand to poke at his chest. Derek doesn't budge, doesn't breathe, doesn't blink.
Seraphine only realizes her mistake when his arm swiftly rears back, his fingers curling into a fist. 
~~~
The next day is one without classes for Seraphine. She was ecstatic when she made her schedule and found out that she had her Fridays free--that would allow her to look for a job, or maybe get an internship.
Never mind that Derek wouldn't let her get a job in the first place. 
She wakes up on the ground in the hallway right next to the door, body aching and screaming. She lets out a small groan as she pushes herself up on her knees, moving slowly as to not awaken the nausea floating around in her stomach. 
Seraphine brings a hand up to her head to cradle it but hisses and immediately retracts it when she touches her left eye. 
Memories from last night come flying in, and Seraphine chokes on a sob, reaching up to rub at her neck.
Last night...last night, Derek almost killed her. 
She remembers his fist first, going straight into her eye. Her stomach is next, and when Seraphine's nose crinkles at a foul smell coming from somewhere around her, she looks down to see a small pile of vomit next to her head. She gags and covers her mouth, pressing her fingers to her lips in order to keep in the contents of her stomach.
Seraphine stares at the vomit a little too long and she recognizes the two bites of beef stroganoff she ate at her professors' house. 
Damien's meal, Enzo's regret, Nico's hands, Luca's demands...
She shakes her head as tears come to her eyes and pushes herself away from the middle of the hallway to lean on the wall.
Her eyes flutter shut as she weeps. 
Dr. Brummer, she chastises herself, and cries harder. Dr. Wern, Dr. Michaels, Dr. Reeves. 
Her professors. 
The club, the car, the mansion, the bath, the meal, the escape. 
She regrets it all--but running away from them is at the top of the list. 
If I didn't run, maybe I would've been safe. Maybe, just maybe, I could've stayed away from Derek, could've gotten away from him--
Seraphine brings her knees to her chest and inhales, drowning herself in Dr. Wern's scent. It brings her comfort and pain all at once, and her throat aches from crying so much.
She lifts a hand to her neck and coughs. It aches from crying, and from Derek's hand.
All she remembers before she blacked out last night was begging him to let go, her arms falling limp at her side, and his green eyes glinting with mirth as she slid down the door. 
I deserve this. She suddenly thinks, even though the very thought brings more tears to her eyes and bile up her throat. 
I deserve all of this. 
Not wanting to throw herself a pity party for much longer, she pushes up on her feet, using the wall to steady herself. Her head pounds with the change in pressure as she stands, but she tries her best to ignore it. 
Seraphine stumbles into the kitchen, the bright sunlight streaming through the blinds making her squint. 
Soft snores sound from the couch and she goes over to it to see Derek sleeping peacefully, his arm thrown over his eyes to block out the light. She watches his rising and falling chest for a moment, guilt searing her chest as she sees his split lip and cut cheek, courtesy of her professors.
She goes over to the window and pulls the blinds shut.
Her next order of business is to change out of Dr. Wern's clothes and into her own. The process takes more than ten minutes with her sore body, but she does it. She debates just throwing away the shirt and sweatpants, but guilt pangs through her and she tosses them into the laundry bin along with her dirty underwear. 
She'll wash them, give them back to him, and then never see him--any of them--again.
Except I'm in all of their classes. She bites her lip, then groans. And I'm their assistant. 
"Why did I take that damn job?" She whispers, regretting her decision to go behind Derek's back and accept the proposal. She knew he'd hate it if she got any kind of job, did any kind of work. He always insisted that he had to support her, so he never let her get a job. 
He almost didn't let her enroll in university, but somehow she convinced him.
Seraphine furrows her brows as she tugs at the hem of her oversized shirt. When did my life cease to be my own? 
She shakes her head and trudges into the kitchen, even though her stomach churns at the thought of food. 
Derek's just protecting me. I should be more grateful.
That morning, she wakes him up with pancakes and bacon, and a perfect smile.