As soon as Paul was out of sight a choked sob bubbled up in Suzy's throat, her legs were sagging with sudden exhaustion as she began to tremble all over. She felt the weight of Professor Jacob's gaze on her even though she was unable to bring her eyes up to meet his. She was so ashamed of herself so angry for having let Paul do this to me, for letting herself be fooled by his easy charm and quick smile.
Her sentiment was reflected moments later by the professor as he uttered those same words, "How could you be so stupid, Miss Suzy?"
Her heart plummeted even further at his words. Losing the respect of the teacher she most admired was like rubbing salt into the wounds left by Paul's vicious actions.
"I'm…so…so... sorry," She sobbed, clutching her shirt to her all the tighter as her vision swam with fresh tears.
She watched through blurry vision as his shadow lengthened on the floor, his steps soft as he moved back from the door, his arm directing her into the room beyond.
"Come along, Miss Suzy. We had better get you cleaned up," he said with a sigh and a subtle shake of his head that made her sob all the louder.
"Do not dawdle," he added stiffly, the soft and impatient tap of his foot on the floor making her heart flutter as she quickly stepped out into the main room. Without actually touching her, he ushered her through the thankfully deserted art room and into his office on the other side, pointing to the visitor's chair in front of his neat and orderly desk.
"Sit."
Skirting past him with her eyes downcast, she sat down as he instructed, perching on the edge of the chair and staring into her lap.
She could not hide her jump as he shut the door with a sharp click and walked around his desk with quick and deliberate strides, the light shining through the lush leaves of the trees outside the window casting his face in dappled shadow.
The sound of creaking leather drew her eyes up as he settled himself in his chair, his expression clouded and stern, though his light green eyes held a glimmer of sympathy.
"Are you alright?" he finally asked.
He retrieved a small packet of wet wipes from the top drawer of his desk and extended them to her. After a moment's pause, she took them from him with violently trembling fingers, almost dropping them in the process.
"Umm… I am not sure," she mumbled, looking down at the packet in her hand, unable to meet his gaze.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he prompted, the question bringing the memory of Paul's hands pawing at her, hurting her, to the surface, and causing fresh tears to prick at her eyes. With her voice stuck somewhere in the back of her throat, she shook her head emphatically, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to hold back the tears that had begun to trail down her cheeks again.
Through tear-blurred vision she watched him rise from his seat and come around the desk to stand in front of her. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his long ponytail draped over his shoulder, the dark strands stark against the whiteness of his shirt.
"I did not think he would…" She heard herself saying, her voice sounding distant and lost in the otherwise silent room. His fingers sent a spark of surprise and electricity through her as they curled around her chin and drew her face upwards.
"You foolish girl," he sighed, the warmth in his eyes softening the words as he looked into her upturned face.
Drawing a handkerchief from his pocket, he grasped her chin firmly and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Don't you know the reputation that boy has?"
Furrowing her brow she tried to shake her head but his grip stopped the motion. Instead, she whispered a broken and strained "No."
His raised eyebrows expressed disbelief, but he did not say anything else as he continued to dry her face. Stuffing the handkerchief back in his pocket he took the packet of wipes from her shaking hand.
"Stand up," he commanded gruffly.
She flinched at his tone and he stopped moving towards her.
"Please," he added softly.
Rising unsteadily to her feet she stood in front of him, our eyes level as he leaned against the edge of the desk. Tearing the package open in one smooth motion he withdrew a moist wipe and reached out to lift up one side of her shirt.
She drew a shuddering breath, her cheeks heating as she stepped closer, her thighs almost brushing against his knees.
"Are you a virgin, Miss Suzy?" he asked.
The boldness of his question caught her off-guard until she noticed him inclining his head towards her stomach and the blood-smeared there.
"Umm yes… well, I suppose not anymore technically," She said with bitterness, hysterical laughter, feeling the prickling heat of tears in my eyes again.
"It is a shame that such an undeserving fuckwit should rob you of that," he said as he swept the cool wipe over her skin, gently washing away the evidence of Paul's actions.
She could only nod in response, her cheeks flushing at his language and the heated look in his eyes.
"Such a thing should be appreciated for the treasure that it truly is," he added as he wiped away the last of the blood, pausing for the barest of moments before he buttoned her shirt, his fingers moving with practiced grace and speed. The intimacy of the act brought new heat to her cheeks and caused her heart to flutter in her chest.
Pulling another wipe from the packet he cupped her chin in his hand and wiped away her fresh tears, the cool cloth a delicious counterpoint to the heat in her cheeks. His eyes were like icy chips of emerald as they regarded her with a professional distance as his fingers moved over her face, but they filled with a dark heat when they locked with her own.
"I think you had best go home now, Miss Suzy," he said stiffly, his hands dropping away from her as he rose to his feet.
Leaning down to the side of his desk he retrieved a bottle filled with some liquid from his bag and extended it towards her. "Take a couple of these and a hot bath, it will help with the pain."
"I... Thank you." She mumbled as she accepted the bottle and slipped it into the pocket of her jeans. Pausing to straighten her clothes with trembling hands she ducked her head one last time in thanks before reaching for the door handle, even though her fingers were closing over the metal but they were refusing to turn it.
"Was there something else?" he asked, his voice tinged with a small trace of concern.
"Could you… please... walk with me? I am just afraid that h-he might...," She tried to explain but was unable to turn and look at him.
"Sure." He shut his desk drawer, collected his bag.
Reaching around her to the open door his warm fingers closed over her long enough to turn the handle before quickly releasing her as if burned.
"Let's go," he prompted as he held the door open, gesturing for her to precede him. They stopped long enough for him to lock the door behind them before walking through the main art room and out into the hallway.
All the while she kept my eyes down, refusing to look at him. To her relief, Paul was not waiting outside. Sliding into her old car she murmured her thanks as she fiddled with her seatbelt and rolled down her window to let in the cooling air.
A brief shock of electricity passed through her as he pressed her keys into her hand, his fingers brushing her upturned palm. His penetrating gaze lingered on her as he stepped back and waited for her to start the car. Fortunately, the car started on the first attempt not embarrassing her more.
"Be safe, Miss Suzy."