Stories For the Damned

Tea 2

'So, so stupid' is what she thought to herself as she erased the nonsensical drawings that students had left in dry erase on her whiteboard. The swirls of color and squiggly lines were akin to the way she felt....somehow.

Her heart was already beating rapidly as her eyes avoided the clock that hung on top of the room's doorway. She already knew what time it was, looking wouldn't make the hands move any faster.

All she could do now was wait. And as the seconds turned into minutes she felt an air of anxiety as she thought of how she didn't have any more tea to sip on. Her thermos was empty and....and it was too late to leave her room now. She didn't want to miss her....assistant.

Sitting at her desk now, she tried to grade tests from her 2nd period but she couldn't focus. The pen in her hand was at a stand still as she stared at the same question, the same messy handwriting from a student who clearly didn't pay attention during lessons.

Her mind wandered to the way she had sensed her assistants eyes on her during class. The way she had tried not to panic at the idea of a student putting two and two together. She could not throw away her career, her life over something as...stupid as a little fling. An affair.

A frown crossed her features as she realized that while she hated the thought of losing everything she had, she hated the idea of being without her assistant just as much.

"So, so-" she whispered underneath her breath only to get cut off as her door opened and in stepped....her.

Immediately any reservations that she was having vanished as she caught sight of the smile that the woman sported and, admittedly, the way her hips swayed slightly. Full breasts caught her eye even though the outfit she wore wasn't revealing in the slightest.

"I'm late," the woman said, closing the door behind her.

"You...." she hadn't realized that it was a bit over. One glance at the clock confirmed that. Yet she acted as if it didn't really matter because truth be told it didn't. "You're not."

The woman quirked an eyebrow ever so slightly. "I am."

She would not argue about it mostly because they had never argued, ever. But in her mind she asked herself what her assistant was really late to. This was not a date. They weren't....having sex. Though the mere notion made her look down at her lap with barely controllable nerves. "It's....whatever," she mumbled, not caring if the woman heard her words or not.

"Hmm." A chair was pulled up to her desk just like that morning. Her assistant was close, almost unbearably so. The woman glanced at the door before speaking to her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She couldn't even lie to herself. She knew exactly what 'it' was. And she couldn't bring herself to broach the subject. Shaking her head and refused to look at the woman. Why was she tearing up?

One hand touched her thigh and she only looked at it because she was already looking down. Another hand went to her jaw, guiding her to tilt her head up enough so that her assistant could kiss her.

Soft lips calmed her and she blinked only to feel hot tears roll down her cheeks. So, she closed her eyes trying to ignore the way her heart ached. Her hands clenched into fists as she drifted with the current that the woman's kiss was. Gentle, sweet.

Momentarily, the woman's lips pressed against her wet skin, kissing away the salty tears before going back to her lips. And she hated it but not because it felt bad, but because it killed her inside.

She kissed harder.

Her hands went to the woman's shirt giving the gentlest tug as she tried to...well, she at least thought about doing something that she shouldn't. She just needed to be closer, if only she could touch-

Her assistant pulled away from the kiss leaving her reeling. She barely noticed the way she was panting while the woman who looked at her was not. Hands went to hers and gently pulled them away from her clothing.

Had she really gone that far? Never in the months since they started...this...had either of them attempted to take it a step further. The farthest she could recall was a hand on her thigh or her cheek from time to time. A boundary that she had just threatened to cross.

Of course, she could never really undress the woman in the open space of her classroom, a place with too much risk.

But was she really considering the unthinkable?

She said nothing and neither did her assistant as more tears streamed down her face. So much so that they dripped down her chin.

The woman hugged her then and all she could do was silently cry as she clinged to her life line.