Seraphine

twenty seven

Seraphine 

Seraphine is still in a sour mood when she unlocks their apartment, grumbling under her breath. 

How dare they speak to me like that! Dr. Brummer stepped out of line. And Dr. Michaels...his hands...

She shivers at the memory of him touching her, shivers again at Liliana's words reminding her of their line of work--though she's not quite sure about that part--and what Dr. Michaels does for them. 

"Babe? What are you doing home early?" Derek calls from the kitchen, and Seraphine shakes her head to get rid of her thoughts. She plasters on a smile and steps out of her shoes, heading further into the apartment. 

Derek stands at the counter, hands splayed on the edge. Seraphine notices and her eyes drop to his hands, and she suddenly envisions a slightly larger pair with delicate ink swirling around the fingers. 

Dr. Reeves...

She blinks, and it's gone. 

"Sera?" Derek calls, waving his hand in front of her face. Seraphine glances up at his face, smiling sheepishly. 

"Sorry. Um, class was canceled. I didn't see until I got there, so I came back here." She explains, placing her bag on the counter and pulling out her phone, setting it on the counter.

Derek hums in understanding, turning around to grab his keys from the little dish he made out of clay back in high school. It's rough, an ugly vomit-green color, and has sharp edges, but he insisted on keeping it in their apartment. Seraphine hadn't wanted to fight, so she agreed. 

There are a lot of things you agreed on because you didn't want to fight.

Is getting a fist to the face your definition of keeping everything under control, darling? 

Dr. Brummer's words hit her like a truck, and Seraphine physically flinches from the blow. Her eyes flicker to Derek, who hums the melody to a familiar rock song she's heard blasting from his record player before. 

I do have everything under control.

Tears spring to her eyes as she thinks this affirmation, but she can't quite pinpoint why. 

Not wanting Derek to see her cry, she rushes into the bathroom, leaving both her schoolbag and her phone in the kitchen. 

Seraphine reaches the room and gently closes the door, gripping the sink so tight her knuckles turn white. She raises her gaze to the mirror, blinking against the tears until she can see her reflection clearly. 

Her blonde hair is well-tamed, her round face sporting a black eye. Surprisingly, she can still easily see her ocean blue eyes. Her nose twitches the more she stares, and she leans forward, spotting the last of her summer freckles. Her soft lips are quivering, and she drops her gaze to her neck, where Derek's fingers had left bruises. 

Seraphine breathes in shakily as she lifts her hand to fit around her neck, her fingers pressing lightly on the bruises. When Derek had choked her Thursday night, his fingers had gone to the same place they had the first time, almost like muscle memory. The second time was the same thing. 

This is the third time he's had his hand around my neck within a week. 

"I have everything..." Seraphine tries, her voice trembling and hoarse. She doesn't make it through the rest of the sentence before breaking down in front of the mirror, tears running freely down her face. 

Her hunched shoulders shake violently as she covers her mouth to keep in her sobs, not wanting Derek to hear her and come in to see her crying. 

Crying over him.